#impractical jokers angst

[38livesalone-has3cats]

could you write for the impractical jokers with an s/o that has anorexia ? if that would be too triggering for you, i completely understand!!

hihi ! thank u for the ask :) i did my best with this and i didn't mention purging or binging because that's a lil triggering so i hope this is what you were wanting !!

The Impractical Jokers with a s/o with anorexia

-- tw; eating disorders(obv), unhealthy eating habits --

Sal

-he definitely monitors your eating as much as he can(in a loving way i swear, not trying to be creepy)

-texts you casual reminders to eat throughout the day, even if he know you won't

-he has your safe meals/meals he knows your comfortable with memorized

-y'all don't go out to eat often(he def has hellofresh or smth), but when you do, he makes sure to look up the menu with you beforehand and you guys plan what you'll get together

-he's very particular about what he eats so he has absolutely no shame while the two of you are out and will send back any food you mention isn't made the way you like

-honestly you could just give the plate a weird look and he's already calling the waiter back

-makes sure you take at least a few bites, but he won't force you into anything

-anywaysss

-sitting and eating with you is his love language atp

-he's always so proud of you, no matter what !! and he won't hesitate to tell you that

Joe

-we all know this man loves to eat

-he won't hesitate to finish your plate for you(after you take a few bites of course !)

-absolutely LOVES talking about sweet treats with you and honestly that's how he get's you to try new treats most times

-he will def get you to take silly pics with him with food connecting y'alls mouths or making silly faces with the food to "trick" you into eating

-his favorite dates with you are dinner dates, because he loves to chow down and he loves to watch his partner eat

-all in all he doesn't 100 percent understand ! but he supports you, loves you, and keeps you well-fed !

Murr

-he's genuinely so caring with you

-he makes sure you ALWAYS know how much he loves and cares about you

-he loves to pack lunches for the both of you, and he always leaves you cutesy little notes !!

-he insists that you two eat dinner together every night, he loves sitting down to unwind, chitchat, and share a meal with you(no matter how much you eat !)

-he can(and will) just go on and on about how beautiful he thinks you are

-he tells the guys that he doesn't understand how he got such a gorgeous person on his arm

-He will read books and watch yt videos to learn more about anorexia and how he can help

-will always keep it real with you when you start getting bad again, not in a mean way ! he just loves you and hates to see you that way

-loves to remind you of how far you've come in your relationships with food and your body

Q

-he's had his own struggles with depression, so although he may not completely understand, he gets it

-loves to curl up on the couch with you and watch movies; he'll hand-feed you a few bites of whatever snack he's got

-he's completely obsessed with you tbh

-he often brings home your favorite takeout for dinner because it's easy and he knows he can get you to take a few bites

-always wants to remind you how beautiful you are, rarely calls you by your name; it's always "gorgeous" or "beautiful" from him

-he will also text you throughout the day; he loves to yap about how his day is going, he'll also sneak in little reminders to eat a snack of some sort

-he will celebrate every little milestone with you, no matter how small or insignificant you tell him it is(he's buying you flowers, jewelry, the whole works)

-he's just so loving with you ugh

-on days where you're feeling extra weak or tired he's so gentle with you, he spends all day coddling you and making you stay in bed while he takes care of you

[howlettsbaby]

Our Little Secret ʚ♡ɞ

brian quinn x afab!reader

warnings: porn w/ little plot, reader is over 18, age gap, unprotected sex, oral!fem receiving, daddy kink, secret relationship, dub con (??) , rough sex, pussy inspection, nipple play, use of pet names (baby, doll, slut), mild manipulation, squirting, choking, overstimulation

summary: it’s been hard keeping a secret relationship with your dads best friend. despite how much you crave him, how would brian react if you started pushing him away?

a/n: just a small announcement - i have received various requests and i’ve already got drafts going for a couple of them. please don’t be alarmed if it takes me a while, i’m doing my best!

ever since you started sneaking around with your dads best friend, it feels like your whole life has changed. you cared for brian, you really did. but it was hard not being able to show your relationship publicly.

—

currently, your sitting on your kitchen island, eating a bag of chips when he walked in. looking up from the bag, you watched as brian closed the door behind him. he made his way towards you, sighing as he stood ahead you.

“hey baby,” his words were gentle. he softly smiled at you, resting a thumb over your uncovered thigh. it’s been hard trying to avoid him, despite seeing him recently around the house. you could tell he knew something was up with you. needing to come to a conclusion, he spoke before your could greet him back.

“you going to tell me whats been going on?” you let out an exhale, knowing that this moment was approaching. you knew you needed to communicate with him, but you couldn’t lose your dads best friend.

you sighed, avoiding eye contact. “i don’t know if we should do this anymore bri..” he paused, removing his hand from your thigh. “what do you mean?” he questioned, confused from your mixed feelings. “i just..” you stopped, trying to find the right words to say. “you know i care about you, i just don’t want us to get caught.” you murmured while he remained still.

“we’ve talked about this honey, you know i won’t let anyone find out.” he softly caressed your cheek soothingly. “i can’t let go of you.” you whimpered at his statement, “i can’t let go of you either.” looking up at him - you locked eyes with the beautiful brown-eyed man. instantly, a pool of wetness started to form in your panties. “is this why you haven’t answered my texts baby?” you nodded nervously. he exhaled once again, letting a smile creep around his lips to comfort you.

he placed a kiss on your lips, holding onto your jawline. “i’m sorry,” a small whine exited your lips. “don’t be, let daddy take care of you, mkay?”

his calloused hands wrapped around your thighs, lifting you up with a small gasp exiting your lips. “not here though.” he continued kissing you as he made his way up the stairs, concentrated on making his little doll feel good. when the two of you approached your room, he opened the door and placed you on your bed. he removed his lips from yours to stand up and go lock the door behind him — this was for nobody else to see.

brian rushed back over to the bed, immediately smashing his lips onto yours. “you taste so sweet baby,” he flirted. you blushed in response, rutting your heated area against his clothed buldge. “you want me baby? i want you.” your cheeks became even hotter - “yes, want you so bad daddy” you squealed, craving for him to be inside you.

his cock bulged at your whines, pulsing for you inside his jeans. he nearly tore your shirt in half due to his eagerness to take it off. luckily for him, you were bare underneath. your nipples hardened in the chilly room. “look so pretty like this,” he stared at your perfect tits for a moment, before smashing his face in-between them. his lips connected to your left nipple, as he massaged the right with his hands. you threw your head back while running your fingers through his hair. your freshly manicured acrylics scratched his scalp in all the right places.

after that, he worked his way out of his clothes, leaving him in only his boxers. he moved down your tiny shorts after he unclothed himself, discarding them to somewhere in your room. for a second, he admired your soaked panties. “all for me doll?” he chuckled, grazing his hand over your covered clit. you nodded in response, aching from the need of pleasure. “it aches daddy,” you rubbed a hand over your lower-belly, whining out for him. “i know baby, gonna fix that for you m’kay?” he lowered himself over your pulsating core, removing your cotton panties.

brian slid a finger through your glistening folds, admiring how much he turned you on. he watched as your hole clenched around nothing, and how your clit was beating out for him. “touch me, touch me bri” you threw your head back in anticipation. “just a second baby, let daddy have a look.” he said before he removed his hands from your wet pussy. brian then gripped your thighs for support as he kissed alongside them, nose nearly touching your clit. when you were about to confront him for the teasing, he slammed his tongue directly into your dripping hole.

he glided his tongue in and out your hole before sliding it around your clit. his grip on your thighs became rougher as you started to squirm. he watched as you started to grab everything - the sheets, his hair, your stuffed animals. he knew he was the only one who could make you feel this way, and planned on never letting you go. he didn’t give a fuck about risking his friendship with your dad - hell, he just started talking to him when he saw his pretty, innocent daughter.

brian was the first man to ever touch you like this, which led to you becoming obsessed with him. the way he cared for you as if you were a fragile piece of glass meant everything.

“mm, gonna cum,” you whined, alerting him about your release. he nodded his head side to side, lips still locked in your pussy. “not yet.” he demanded. his voice was stern and imperious. you moaned, not knowing how you’ll hold on any longer.

a couple minutes went by, and he was still settled in between your legs. “can’t bri!” you nearly screamed, becoming dumbfounded by the pleasure. he looked up at your face, watching how it contorted and how your eyes rolled back. the pleasure became too unbearable, so you started pushing yourself away from him. he was strong though, too strong. he kept you locked in place by just holding down your thighs. brian had a goal - and he knew he was about to reach it.

many “no’s” and “please’s” left your lips before you could feel something unfamiliar approaching. before you could make another move, a small aray of hot liquid drained from your core. it made a complete mess all over your bed but more importantly, all over his face. you hollered before the last drop of liquid left your body. your body fell limp on the bed, too weak to move.

brian lifted himself up and examined the mess you made. “didn’t know you could squirt doll,” he moved his way to hover his entire body over you. you let out a small whine in response, not able to form words in your head.

he moved your body and spread your legs before pulling down his boxers. “gonna fuck you now, okay?” it was almost as if he was asking permission, but you knew that wasn’t what it was. you nodded with your eyes still closed, too heavy to open them. “i need words baby” he demanded. you sniffled as a tear rolled down your cheek, “okay daddy,” you huffed. he kissed the tear off your face before lowering himself into your overused cunt.

instantly, you winced at the pain of his large cock slowly sliding inside of you. he made it about halfway before pulling out and gliding his cock along your folds. you groaned when his shaft touched your sensitive clit. caught up in the bliss, you snapped out of it when he slammed his cock fully inside of you. “ah, mm - hurts daddy.” you cried, wrapping your arms around his back for support. he was too big, and could barely fit inside your small cunt. “i know baby, hush, daddy’s got you.” he said peering above you.

he started to thrust inside of you, as you rocked your hips back n forth. the burning pain soon passed and turned into immense pleasure. he felt so fucking good deep inside your core.

he started to pick up the pace once he felt your hips move. his cock throbbed in your hole while destroying your sensitive gummy walls. it took everything in him not to completely brutalize you. he knew you were just a sensitive little girl, and he cared for you.

you could feel his tip kissing your cervix, sending you into a spiral. brian always watched your faces because it was easy to tell when you were going to cum. also, he just loves to look at his pathetic little slut whining on his cock. “yes, yes, yes!” you groaned out as he started to rub your puffy red clit with his thumb. nearing your orgasm, you bit down on his shoulder to muffle your noises. he grabbed one of his hands that were wrapped around your waist, locked it in with your hair, and harshly tugged you back. “no baby” he said between thrusts. “gotta hear you.”

while his hand was still pulling your head back, he moved his lips down your neck, sucking on the skin. brian knew all of your sensitive spots, and knew where to kiss you.

“i’m so c..close” you could barely manage to get the words out, stuttering between them. “you gonna cum for daddy, hm?” he said as he placed the hand that was once in your hair around your neck. “gonna make a mess on daddy’s cock?” his eyes were dark with lust. you could see it in him.

you could feel the knot in your lower stomach, begging for a release. “can i cum daddy, please?” you pleaded. he groaned in response, leaving you to release the buildup that’s been trying to get out. your back arched as you rode out your intense high. his orgasm followed soon after, pulling out and spreading his seed all over your stomach while you were still spazzing out.

he held you close as you started to calm down. you immediately fell into his chest, crying from the intense intimacy you two just shared. he rubbed your back soothingly and wiped the tears that fell from your face.

you both laid in silence for a moment, but it was comforting. then, you looked down at your legs and spot the huge mess you made. you whimpered, “i’m all messy” he chuckled. “i’ll clean you up soon baby, just let daddy hold you for a second.”

“mm, was i good?” you innocently look up at him. he grinned in awe, realizing how fucking obsessed with you his was. “did so good for me baby.” you smiled widely before tucking yourself back into his hairy chest, feeling a wave of relaxation hit you.

“we gotta do this again.” you said, words mumbled as you were tucked away. “hm, don’t think this is the end of it baby.” he said as the two of you closed your eyes and cuddled after the intimate event.

[bqu1nns]

im sorry i havent been posting, i feel like shit because ive been sick but i wanted to post this fic still ! someone requested a jealous!brian + sal sister trope because they liked it so much (thank you!) so here u go! whomever u are, i love u and it was awesome writing this. love u guys, i hope u are all safe and if i dont see u guys soon, happy new year ! my request box is open still if u guys want me to write anything specific AND i am open to writing for people who arent brian quinn lol !! hit me up ! toodles xx

daddy's girl 𐙚 brian q.

3219 words! my biggest one :3

the party was absolute chaos, which was what the vulcano’s were known for. well, mostly what sal was famous for. his apartment buzzed with energy, filled with people laughing too loudly and moving in and out of the hallways like it was some kind of jungle. you stayed by the hall, nursing a drink you didn't even like, your eyes doing what they’d been doing the entire night: tracking him. 

brian quinn. your boyfriend. or a friend you fool around with from time to time.

he was in the kitchen, leaning back against the counter like he owned the damn place. one hand holding a beer, his hand collecting liquid as his beer was getting warm, the other tucked casually into his pocket. he looked completely at ease. as if you didn't even exist to him. but you knew him better than that. you’d noticed the sparkle in his eyes when you walked in, the way his lips twitched like he wanted to grin but knew he couldn't. not here. not now. 

not with sal just across the room, playing host like he was the king of staten island. no one knew about the stolen kisses in dimly lit corners, the late night drives when you just couldn't keep your hands off of each other, or the way brian’s voice softened when he whispered your name in private when you belonged to him. the secret felt like it was fraying at the edges, waiting to be ripped off at any given moment. 

and then there was her.

she was standing almost too close, her body turned towards him like some damn flower bending to the sunlight. she laughed a little too loudly at something he said, her arm resting on his arm.

her arm resting on his arm. !!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

your stomach churned with something that you hadn't felt before, something that you couldn't even name, but it wasn't jealousy. no, that would be way too simple. it was something far worse.

it was possession. 

it hasn't always been this way—those stolen moments when no one was looking, when hands lingered just a second longer than intended, when his lips brushed yours like it was a secret between the two of you and no one else’s (which it was). but tonight? tonight was different. his gaze flickered across the room, catching yours for just a beat too long, but he didn't even move. instead, his attention slid back to the brunette, laughing like it didn't matter. like you didn't matter. 

you tried to look away, tried to focus on something—anything else. but the knot in your stomach tightened with every laugh he shared with her, with every gesture that seemed so familiar but so distant tonight. it made you want to scream. 

“hey,” someone said, his smile wide. “i don't think we’ve met. i’m jason.” you couldn't help but smile back, even if it was a little forced. “hi, jason.” you didn't want to seem rude to a polite man.

jason extended his hand and though it was unnecessary, you shook it anyway. his grip was firm, the kind of handshake rich people would have. “you must be new around here. i haven't seen you around at sal’s parties before,” he said, leaning casually. “i don't come to them often, he's my brother but they aren't really my scene. i just wanted to come to support him, i guess.”

his grin widened, teeth almost disturbingly white and flashy. “ah, one of those ‘too cool to party’ types, huh,” he teased, his tone light. “let me guess–you were dragged here against your own will?”

you laughed softly, amused by him now. “something like that.” jason leaned in slightly to whisper in your ear. “i'm sorry but i actually already knew you were sal’s sister,” his tone shifted to sound smug. your brows rose in mild surprise. “oh really? then why’d you ask..”

he shrugged casually, taking a sip of his drink. “just thought i’d have a little fun. but, actually, sal told me earlier. he mentioned you’d be here tonight and, uh…” his eyes flicked over you briefly. “suggested that i’d keep an eye out for you. said something about you not being a fan of these kinds of things.”

you blinked, the revelation catching you off guard. “he told you to keep an eye on me? how pathetic. sounds more like babysitting to me,” you scoffed at the thought. “hey, honestly, if he didnt say anything, i probably would’ve noticed you anyway.” you tilted your head, “oh really?”

“yeah,” he replied smoothly. “you don't exactly blend into the background, y’know.” it was a compliment, sure, but it landed a little too practiced. you rolled your eyes but a small smile tugged at the corner of your lips despite yourself. “thanks, i guess,” you said dryly. 

“no prob. so, what's it gonna take to make sure you dont bolt from this party in the next 5 to 10 minutes?” before you could answer, you felt it—an unexpected pressure against your side, like someone had bumped past you with purpose and undetermined effort. without warning, you felt brian. his shoulder collided with yours, hard enough to send you stumbling slightly. 

“mind if i borrow her for a few minutes, man?”

your heart skipped a few beats at the sound of brian’s voice—like warm honey mixed with something darker. he didn't even glance at jason, his eyes were on you, the intensity in them almost too irresistible to ignore.

without missing a beat, brian stepped forward, pushing past jason as if he wasn't even there. before you could even process what was happening, he had you pressed against the nearest wall, his hand bracing behind your head while his lips crashed into yours. the world seemed to blur all around you, the party, the noise, the eyes of anyone else—they all simply faded. it was just brian, the heat of his body against yours, the urgency in his kiss that made everything else matter significantly less. 

for a moment, you forgot about the idea of sal seeing the two of you making out on his wall, about jason, about the fact that you were pretty much in a hallway at a crowded party. even though a small voice in the back of your head screamed that this wasn't the place, you didn't even care anymore. brian’s chest rose and fell, his breathing heavy but his eyes burned with something between frustration and want. 

“you're impossible,” you whispered, but there wasn't a real bite in your tone. it came out much softer, breathless, as you tried to catch up with everything that just happened

“me? you're the one flirting with your brother’s idiot coworker,” brian shot back, voice rough, but his hands—one sliding up to cradle your jaw—was anything but harsh. “do you have any idea what that just did to me, sweetheart? watching him try to charm you, knowing damn well hes out of your fucking league? huh?”

you tried to come up with something clever, something biting, but all you could manage was: “then do something about it.” his eyes narrowed slightly, jaw tightening as if he didn’t hear you correctly. “let’s go,” you said, your voice steady as you grabbed him by his hand and started pulling him towards the hallway.

“where?” he asked, though there wasn't hesitation in the way he followed. you glanced back at him, biting back a laugh. “the bathroom. we need to talk.” he let out a disbelieving laugh but you didn't ignore the excitement in his eyes. “talk, huh?”

the moment the bathroom door clicked shut behind the two of you, the muffled sounds of the party fell away, leaving only the sound of your own raging heartbeat roaring in your ears. you turned to face brian, who already had his arms leaning back against the sink, a grin tugging his lips. 

his gaze was relentless, dragging over you in a way that felt like he could see straight through every wall you’d built around yourself. “you're gonna tell me what the hell that was out there?” his voice was low, the kind of tone that left no room for denial. “what do you mean?” you shot back, though your voice came out more innocent than you intended. 

brian tilted his head, his tongue running over his bottom lip like he was trying to stay cool and calm, though you could feel his restraint unraveling right in front of your eyes. “don't play cute with me, doll. you know exactly what i'm talkin’ about. jason.”

you bristled, stepping closer to him, your heart flaring up again. “oh, so it's my fault now? you've been busy charming every single girl in the room except me, but the second someone so much as talks to me, you act—”

“like you're mine?” he interrupted, his voice sharp enough to cut through you. he pushed himself off the sink, coming towards you. “yeah, i do. because you are.” your breath caught in your throat, but brian wasn't finished. 

“do you have any idea what it's like to stand there and watch some dickhead try to put his hands in your pants?” his voice softened but his words burned hotter by the minute. “you smiling at him, letting him think he could take you home for the night? do you know what that did to me?”

his words hit you like a large swell, stealing the air from your lungs. “i don't want anyone else looking at you like that, touching you,” he continued. “not when i know what's mine. and you are, baby. dont even try and deny it.” you swallowed hard, his words making your pulse thunder in your ears. “brian i’m s–”

his thumb traced your delicate jaw, his touch gentle. “say it,” he urged, almost pleading. “say you're mine.” your heart pounded, all your defenses crumbling under one blow; under the weight of his words and the intensity in his longing gaze. “i'm yours. only yours,” you admitted, the confession falling from your lips like some secret you could no longer bear to keep. 

you opened your mouth to respond even more but brian didn't give you the chance. his lips were on yours again, this time slower, deeper, like he was trying to memorize every part of you. the kiss’s tenderness made your stomach do somersaults. your hands found their way to his shirt, fisting the fabric as he pressed closer, the heat of him overwhelming in such a small space. his teeth grazed your bottom lip, you let out a soft moan that seemed to spur him on, his hand slipping to your waist to pull you even tighter against him. 

“god, you have no idea what you do to me, baby,” he moaned against your lips, voice husky, laced with raw need. “do’ya feel that? it's all because of you,” he murmured, placing your hand on his hard bulge, grinding against your hand. his lips moved to your jaw, pressing soft, open-mouthed kisses along the curve until he reached your neck. the sensation sent a shiver down your spine, and you tilted your head, letting him get more access as he nipped and sucked sweet hickeys along your sensitive skin just below your ear. 

“brian.. i need you,” you whimpered, your voice trembling equally with desire and disbelief. he hummed in response, his lips curving into a smile against your sweet skin. “say it again,” he murmured, his hand unbuttoning your shirt, his fingers shaky. 

you swallowed hard, your hands moving to the back of his neck, pulling him closer. “i need you so bad right now.. do whatever you want,” you pleaded, the words barely audible over the sound of your own heartbeat and shared breaths of desperation. 

“fuck, youre so goddamn beautiful, baby,” he growls, his large hands cupping your breast as he takes in the sight of your heaving chest. you gasp at the sudden contact of his warm hands, arching into his touch as he kneads the soft flesh. “need to be inside of ya, doll. i need to feel your tight little pussy wrapped around my cock. ”, he sounds desperate and needy. “m’gonna make you feel so good baby. not gonna stop ‘til you're screaming my name.”

he lifts you onto the sink, spreading your legs as wide as he steps between them. his hands tremble slightly as he unzips his jeans, his fingers fumbling with the button in his haste to get them off. i bet his cock hurts so bad right now. he shoves his pants down his legs, kicking them aside as he steps out of them. his boxers follow quickly, revealing his hard, throbbing cock, the tip already glistening with pre-cum. 

he wraps his large hand around his shaft, his fingers squeezing tightly as he pumped himself up and down, his eyes locked on your almost-naked form in the mirror. he spits into his palm, rubbing the saliva all over his cock, making it glisten in the harsh bathroom light. 

his hands slide down your sides, fingers dripping beneath the waistband of your skirt. he tugs it down along with your pretty laced panties, letting them pool at your ankles. the cool feeling of the sink hits your bare skin, making you shiver with anticipation. brian steps closer to you, his rough fingers parting your slick folds. he rubs your clit in rough, quick circles. “fuck, how’re you wet for me baby? such a needy little girl, aren't you…me getting jealous, did that excite you or somethin’?” he chuckles to himself, his voice vibrating to my core. 

“fuck– fuck no. was thinkin’ of taking him home, actually”, you moan softly as the heat spreads all over your body. his fingers curled deeper inside you, the squelch of his fingers fuck into you, fast and deep, the answer was quite enough. “mmph okay, tell me sweetheart,” he murmured, his lips brushing past the corner of my mouth, he's teasing. “would he have you sprawled out on your brothers sink, already fucked out just by his fingers? would he have let you cum on his fingers?”

you're panting now, brian’s name leaving your lips in a wave of whines and moans. brian drinks it all in, his hand leaving your clit to pinch at your nipple. “c'mon sweetheart, you can tell me anything,” he says, cockily and sweet all in one. 

“you–aah!–drive me fucking insane. you think i wanted that prick?” you whispered, your voice trembling with need. “you think i was smiling at him because i wanted him to fuck me, to mark me as his? you–shit–couldn't be more wrong, brian.” 

brian's fingers slow for a moment, twisting so he can thumb at your nipple before he continues his motions. you cry out, eyes shut closed, hips bucking forward. you want more, if that was even humanly possible. you're not sure if you can handle more. your eyes struggle to stay open, but when you open them, you catch the flash of brian’s pleased grin–fixated on your dumb-fucked expression before he focuses back between your thighs. 

“such a pretty pussy,” his fingers never spotting their relentless thrusting on your clit, “i bet jason would've loved to see me pounding into this tight hole. hear you screaming my name, begging for me. fuck, i bet he’d cum so hard,” his words were filthy. he was marking you, claiming you as his own. god help you, you loved it. 

“it's the fact that i can't stand the thought of anyone else touchin’ you, baby, lookin at you, even dreaming about you. you're mine. y-you've ruined me for anyone else. always you, baby. always.”

his words seem to steal your breath. you turn your head to kiss him. you both pour everything you have into it. he positions himself up, the head of his fat cock nudging at your entrance. he spreads your puffy lips apart as he slowly sinks into your heat. an inch, then another, until your walls were stretching beautifully around him. “fuck me… youre so tight. gonna take all of me, aren't you?”

you gasp at the sudden fullness, “brian… there's probably a line out there, they’ll hear us!”, you cry, tears bubbling. brian is quick to shush you, using his big hand over your mouth to muffle your moans. his hips snap against yours as he pounds relentlessly into you. the sink below you rattles with each powerful thrust, the lewd sound of skin slapping against skin mixing with the distant music. “you did this to me, now you're goin’ to have to deal with it, princess,” he leans down, capturing your lips in a bruising kiss as he angles his hips to hit that spot inside you that makes you go insane. your legs begin to shake, he can feel your walls fluttering as he drives you closer and closer to the edge. 

your cheeks burn fiercely as brian’s hot breath ghosts over your lips, you guys are practically forehead to forehead together, spewing filth as he rams his thick cock into your hole over and over. the squelching of your mixed juices has your ears ringing and your thighs shaking. just as you were about to cum, there was a loud banging on the other side of the door, none other than your brother. “whoevers in there, hurry the fuck up!” 

“i’m busy here, sal!” brian called out, voice straining as he's too focused on making you cum. he knew you were close. “gonna fuck you so good, you’ll be feeling me for days.” you moan at that, arms sprawled onto his bare back. “fill this pussy up with your cum, mark me as yours, please” you seeth. your words are like a drug to him, spurring him on. you meet his thrusts, your manicured nails digging into his back as you cling to him, the pleasure building and building. “bri! oh god, brian, gonna cum on your cock!” he pounds into you harder, “let me feel this pussy squeeze me. fuck–fuck– gonna fill you up, make you mine. you can cum, you've been a good girl.” he’s talkative alright. 

that's all it took before you're gushing around brian’s dick. you think you screamed, biting down way too hard on his hand that was covering your mouth. he lets out a low whimper, spraying your walls with his warm cum. he sinks his teeth into your warm shoulder in attempts to cover his sounds as he comes. he doesn't stop thrusting and bucking his hips into yours, riding out both of your orgasms.

he looks completely fucked. you both do. your hair is a mess and you just realize all the hickeys you left on his chest, bright and red. brian smirks at the state of you, noticing how you both have to get out of the party looking like this. 

“i hate you,” you mutter as you try to catch your breath. he laughs, wincing when he pulls his sensitive cock out of you. “yeahhh sure,” he says as he puts his jeans back on and zips his fly back up. 

“you need to wear this dress more often, baby.” he says as he presses a few kisses to your cheek, and also a light smack to your butt. you don't respond with words, only an annoyed huff as you get down from the sink to put your dress back on. 

you hope this dress is long enough to cover up the stream of brian's cum traveling down your thighs for the rest of the night.

--

𖹭 happy new years !!! and thank u all so much for 200 followers <3

[dollylvr]

Brian “Q” Quinn x Reader

mood board ₊˚⊹ᰔ

[tonycries]

Go For It, Gojo! [Part 2] - G.S.

Synopsis. Just two weeks ago you could barely stand him - so, really, why is your heart beating so loud? Surely, it’s just the way he’s got you pushed against the wall, face stuffed in your cunt - right?

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, academic rivals to lovers, student president! reader, unprotected sex, semi-public sex, slight angst + comfort, vibrators, banter about physics, cunnilingus, Yaga is tired, oral sex (male + female), college! AU, both reader and Satoru do some growing up, overstimulation, super sappy actually, pet names (sweetheart, hardass), swearing.

Word count. 10.5k

A/N. Passed out five times, here’s Part 2 (joke). PART 1 HERE. Art by @_3aem on X.

Gojo Satoru likes to think he’s hilarious. A real connoisseur of the fine art of comedy. The fifth member of Impractical Jokers, if you will. 

Which is probably why, for someone who didn’t know the definition of shutting the fuck up, he sure was intent on staying quiet about whatever this was.

It’s been exactly 2 weeks, 5 days and 17 hours since you and Satoru had entered this weird limbo, and there still wasn’t a peep out of the man about what the two of you are to each other.

Friends? Acquaintances? A booty call that he happens to argue way too much with? You’d smack that pretty nose of his if that was the case - as soon as you admittedly stopped being a pussy yourself…

But, semantics.

And right now, his fingers intertwined with yours as he practically drags you through the aquarium ticket counter - you couldn’t help but wonder - was this a date?

Not exactly lovers, but definitely more than friends, a tense understanding crackling in the air between you two. Something prickly and jittery that pooled in your stomach and made your head spin. 

And as someone used to having the answers to everything, it bothered you that you didn’t have the one to this. 

You haven’t been to an aquarium since you were a kid - quickly having outgrown it at the ripe age of seven. So, really, it made sense that the 6’3 manchild beside you insisted it was the perfect spot to celebrate finishing your assignment.

“That damn quantum entanglement hell.” you’d called it - and ranted about all the way inside - more so to fill the charged silence than anything. His fingers still tight around yours despite the dissipating crowd, burning into your skin.

“You know for someone who loves the elegance of science, you’re an extra hardass about quantum entanglement.” he titters in-between worried mutters of “doesn’t that old lady look like the mafia queenpin from the café.” as you two try to navigate your way through the aquarium.

You desperately cling onto his remark - a sense of normalcy you could finally breathe in.

“Well, Satoru, for someone who treats life like an improv show, you sure have a knack for avoiding scientific precision,” you retort, some strange part of you delighting in the way his fingers tighten around yours. 

“Precision is for pussies.” he chuckles, bringing up a hand to your face, fingers wiggling in a ludicrous attempt at hypnotic suggestion. “Besides, sweetheart, life is a cosmic joke, and quantum mechanics is the punchline.”

“As expected from a Pilot-Wave theorist, that just sounds like an excuse to be lazy. ‘Oh, let’s embrace uncertainty and blame it on quantum mechanics!’”

“It’s also the punchline.”

“At least my punchlines make sense.”

He lets out an exaggerated whine, “And here I thought we were bonding over shared disdain for the hard-headed laws of physics.”

“Shared disdain? I actually respect the laws of physics. They’re the backbone of our universe.”

“Maybe.” he responds, voice a bit uncharacteristically somber. “But, quantum mechanics, uncertainty, whatever. In the end it doesn’t matter the universe, aren’t we all just wandering through a sea of unpredictability? It’s exciting.” he weaves through the crowd with you, gaze flickering between you and the vibrant schools of fish.

And maybe you’re an overthinker - you’ve always been told you were - but it felt like his words carried a heavy tone that went beyond your stupid little debate about quantum entanglement. This was not about physics.

“That excitement often leads to chaos, no matter the universe.”

“Embrace the chaos in every universe then. It keeps things interesting.”

“You’re incorrigible.” you scoff, meeting his intense gaze head-on, skin flaring at the sheer intensity of it. “I bet in every universe you’re an unchangeable hell-raiser.”

“Maybe.” He leans in, a mischievous twinkle in his eyes, gaze now locked on you, his lips dangerously ghosting your ear. “Or maybe I’m just more of a hands-on learner?”

It might never have been about physics.

It’s innocent fun, right? Two classmates celebrating the end of an assignment? Innocent, innocent fu-

“Y’know with the way you’re so dripping wet f’me, I’m starting to think our lil’ arguments are just foreplay, prez.”

Sleek plastic cold against your back, Satoru’s mouth hot on yours - hungry and insistent. Lips tangy with the taste of minty toothpaste and the thrill of the forbidden as he cages you against that heady bathroom stall.

“You’re the one that riles me up. Got a degradation kink, Satoru?” you shoot back between gasps as his greedy hands map every curve and dip of your body. Groping. Kneading. Such a fucking tease.

“Mhm~ Love when you talk dirty to me, sweetheart.” he hums into the heated skin of your neck. White-hot tingles of electricity running along your body. “Though, I really prefer when that smart mouth is choking around my cock instead.”

“I’m gonna hah- drown you in the fucking clownfish tank.”

“Kinky, but that’s not that’s not the magic word, sweetheart.”

You grit your teeth - in both pleasure and irritation, but most importantly the need for more more more. He always did drive you insane. Words choked, “P-please.”

A sharp moan rips from your throat as long fingers graze your swollen folds through your soaked panties. Teasing the dainty hem. Pulling it down. Delving in. Curving deftly upwards, easily pressing into that one spot inside. Over and over. In and out in and out in and-

“Teasing hah- teasing bastard.” you hiss, even as your traitorous hips buck into his touch.

Satoru chuckles darkly, breath warm against your ear, sending shivers running down your spine. “Your teasing bastard.” Your heart pounds in your ears, mind caught on the “your”, drowning out the distant hum and bustle of the aquarium outside. 

And before you can open your mouth - maybe to say something so utterly stupid - he falls to his knees. Pretty lips ghosting your inner thigh, leaving a trail of fire in their wake. A stark contrast with the cool air of the bathroom stall. 

Mindlessly, your legs press together, a bead of slick trailing enticingly down them - aching for an ounce of friction. Down, down, down-

And Satoru notices - of course he notices - because his tongue darts out urgently, tracing the seam of your swollen folds. Eyes rolling to the back of his head, pooling your juices on his tongue before letting them flow down his throat - groaning as if it was his favorite taste. 

Shit, you really were his favorite taste. 

Nose-deep in your cunt and on his knees in that cramped aquarium bathroom, all he can do is lap up your juices. Cock aching, tasting you, breathing you in like a man dying of thirst. 

Pulling down his trousers just enough for his throbbing erection to spring free. Leaking tip smearing against his toned abdomen, trailing down the prominent vein in the middle. A large hand firmly gripping the base, pressing his heavy balls so obscenely on your calf, pulling in sinful little tugs to you.

Blood rushes straight to the throbbing erection in his hands at the way your breath hitches, pretty little mewls of his name leaving those kiss-bitten lips. Such a shame he had to muffle them, two fingers in your mouth, forcing you to taste yourself. 

Ah, he didn’t get to see those manta rays yet, but it’s alright - right now, hips bucking helplessly into him, your hands knotted in his hair - you’re his favorite view anyway. His pretty girl.

“Hngh- Jus’ like that, Satoru.” you moan.

He groans into your dripping pussy, vibrations sending a jolt of electricity shooting through your veins, making you clench further around the tongue pushing its way into your heated hole. Cunt aching for release, and his leaking cock not far behind as he fucks his fist urgently. Grinding into you like a fucking dog in heat.

“Please.” 

Granting your unspoken request, he moves purposefully. Nose catching on your clit, rubbing it over and over as he alternates between gentle sucks and rapid thrusts of his tongue dipping into your entrance. Satoru’s unspoken pace sends you spiraling into insanity - and the edge. 

Almost there.

You lock eyes with him, seeing just as much need for you reflected back in his own eyes. Flitting between his hungry gaze and the thumb teasing his flushed slit. Jerky, desperate strokes of his hand along his veined length - up, up, up - just the way you do it.

Time seems to stand still as with one two three thrusts you shatter all over his tongue. Choked-up cries of his name bouncing off the walls of the empty bathroom as you chase peak after peak on his pretty face.

Your vision blurs at the edges, blood roaring in your ears. Torn between wanting to scream in pleasure and not wanting to be arrested for public indecency. Breathless whispers of pleasure slurring together as your mind clouds with only Satoru Satoru Satoru-

As the haze clears slightly, you realize you’re cradling his head, stroking his silky locks soothingly. Pulling away - embarrassed more at this than what just transpired - you let Satoru rise to his feet, towering over you. 

“On your knees, sweetheart.”

Still delirious from your orgasm, you mindlessly drop to your knees before him. Wordlessly, he guides himself into your mouth, precum salty on your tongue and cock glistening in the dim light of the bathroom.

His hips begin to thrust, matching the pace from before as he fucks your hot mouth. You relax your jaw, letting him take control as he plunges deeper and deeper. Fighting the urge to gag as he hits the back of your throat. Saliva drips down your chin so lewdly, smearing on his cock,

Satoru’s breathing grows heavier and heavier as your nose hits the tufts of hair on his pelvis, already wet with precum and spit. Grip searing on your scalp, you look up to meet his gaze - eyes half-lidded and tears clinging to your lashes.

Maybe it was the carnal look in your eyes, or the way your glossy lips stretch so prettily around him - because with a guttural groan, Satoru spills his load down your throat. Grasp steady on your hair, making you sputter and drink every drop as his cock twitches on your tongue. Cum dribbling down the corner of your lips, the tap! tap! tap! of it ringing in your ears.

As his high passes, you feel as if you’re in a daze as Satoru helps you up. Voice shot and throat burning as he cleans the both of you up. 

Gentle hands on your cheek, a thumb caressing your lips. Your face burning at the way he looks at you. Why does he look at you like that.

A soft smile plays on his lips - kiss-bitten and prettily glossed with your juices. Wordlessly, he leans in, pressing a tender kiss to your lips, sending a sudden tug at your heartstrings.

“I bet in every universe we sneak around and choose the worst lil’ hideouts.”

Yeah. Yeah, maybe you did.

And you don’t know why it hurt. 

It’s almost like you’re on autopilot as you quickly smooth down your clothes and follow Satoru outside, back into the bustling aquarium as inconspicuously as possible. 

As you walk side by side, you can’t help but feel the previous euphoria inside you coiling into something more. Something uncomfortable.

Passing by a group of kids excitedly pointing at a giant tank of tropical fish, you feel a wistful ache as you’re reminded of simpler times. Back when you didn’t analyze everything interaction. Maybe back when things were better.

Pulling back, “Satoru…”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“About what happened…about us-” you sputter out, uncharacteristically inarticulate. “I don’t want-”

“We don’t have to talk about it if you don’t want to, y’know.” 

Your head snaps up. Unspoken words lingering in the air - is it me or you that doesn’t want to talk about it.

Your eyes catch on the shine of his hair in the cool light. The subtle flex of muscles beneath his shirt as he leads the way through the mesmerizing corridors of the aquarium, the soft glow of the tanks casting an ethereal light on his silhouette. 

His hand warm in yours, and that little dimple at the corner of his grin as he turns to you. Devastating.

It was like something snapped. And it hits you with a pang. All glory and beautiful.

He wasn’t yours.

And he probably might never be.

Somehow that terrified you. 

Because in the end, weren’t you just playing along in his elaborate cosmic joke? Just part of his unknown?

But why did that hurt so much?

“Gojo, I’m going home.”

Fear.

---

There have only been three times in his life that Gojo Satoru has truly felt fear. The first, of course, was right after kissing your pretty lips in that dingy closet - if there was ever a true “ah, if I live I’m making this my legacy” moment then that was it. 

The second was when he accidentally walked in on Yaga practicing his interpretative dance routine in the faculty lounge. The man had some moves - but it was something that Satoru saw nightmares about for days.

And the third time? Well, that’s the ongoing saga of trying to decipher you and why the hell you were sitting in another row during Advanced Quantum Physics, so gorgeous and unbothered ignoring him.

No texts, no calls, no snarky debates on anything since the aquarium a few days ago.  

Almost as if he was back to square one - worse even.

So yes, Gojo Satoru is scared. In fact, some might even say he’s utterly terrified. 

But even more than that, he’s so so stupid.

Because for the life of him he couldn’t remember what he’d done to mess up that fragile little connection that you two had formed. 

Maybe you just liked seafood too much to visit the aquarium? That couldn’t be it…

Did you find out he accidentally knocked over that stack of books in the library and blamed it on you? No, he’s heard you blame worse things on him to his face. 

Have you finally gotten sick of him?

…

Nahhh.

He steals a glance in your direction. Eyes mapping your ramrod posture, the way you’re hanging off of Yaga’s every word, and that slight frown marring your features. Ah, you looked so beautiful there even when you looked like you’re about to have an aneurysm.

It’s as if you’ve erected an invisible fortress around yourself, and he’s outside looking in. Desperately calling for you.

Satoru sighs inwardly, realizing he’s going to have to pull out the big guns. With the subtlety of a sledgehammer, he clears his throat, shifting his chair a little too loudly to yours in the row in front of him. 

Paying no mind to the irritated glance that Yaga (and you) shoot at him, he whispers loud enough that it probably carries to the entire classroom. “So, prez~ Did I accidentally stumble into an alternate universe where you still hate me or have you just been avoiding me like I’m a contagious disease.”

You flinch - probably both at the audacity and at him addressing you. Eyes still firmly trained on the now-disgruntled Yaga, you reply curtly, “This is not an alternate universe, Gojo. And I haven’t been avoiding you, I’ve just been busy.”

“Busy ignoring me? Space might’ve worked for Neil Armstrong but it won’t work for me, sweetheart. Just tell me what I did so I can get on my knees and beg for forgiveness.”

Your brows furrow, eyes rereading the same sentence on your textbook over and over. “Just focus on these causal dynamical triangulations, Gojo.”

“Oh yeah, I had one of those once.”

“Satoru. I swear to-”

A sharp call of your name - followed by his. Professor Yaga’s irritation, now palpable, hangs in the air like a storm. “If you two can't maintain some decorum, I suggest you continue your discussion outside.”

Satoru grins unabashedly, batting his long lashes, “Why, Yaga, I thought you enjoyed our discussions.”

“Out, both of you.”

Each word clipped and shattering your dreams of becoming Professor Yaga’s protégé into tinier and tinier pieces. 

“You heard the man, prez. Let’s take this show on the road.” 

Hastily, you gather your belongings, shooting an apologetic glance at Professor Yaga, who gives you a sympathetic look in response. As the door slams behind you, noise ringing in your ears, you stand frozen in a mixture of shock and disbelief. 

Satoru, however, seems unfazed. “Well, that was an unbridled success.”

Irritation spikes as you hiss out, “What?”

“I mean, you called me Satoru for the first time in days so I consider that an unbridled success.”

A strange stab at your heart, and maybe for the first time since working together on that quantum entanglement assignment, Satoru’s joke doesn’t land. 

Your eyes narrow at him, “This isn’t a joke, Satoru. I needed Professor Yaga’s guidance - how else am I going to get a research position with him?”

“It wasn’t a joke.” 

Following your weighty silence, Satoru lets out a heavy sigh. The expression on his face looked more serious than you’d ever seen it as his eyes search yours. “Look, prez, I didn’t mean to mess things up for you - though Yaga basically worships the ground you walk on so-” 

At your raised eyebrow he gets back on track, “Anyway, something’s wrong and I just wanted to understand what’s going on between us.”

A humorless laugh leaves your lips, “Now you want to talk about us?”

You clench your fists, frustration and confusion boiling over within you. You know you’re part of this too. You know you’re not blameless in this tangled mess. And right now, the sheer warmth of his gaze made a strange little part of you consider just giving in and running to his arms. Fuck what he wants of you. Fuck all the uncertainty. 

And that’s exactly what scared you.

You take a deep breath, trying to steady the whirlwind of thoughts within your mind. “I don’t even know what ‘us’ is, Gojo. And I don’t think you do either.”

Your voice is surprisingly steady - as are your feet as they carry you away from Satoru. You’d caught one, final glance at the slump of his shoulders, and the silent plea in his eyes. 

Purposeful steps sound in your ears as you walk to God-knows-where. Yet, they still stutter - as does your heart - as Satoru’s voice rings in the hallway behind you, “Take all the time you need, prez. I’ll win you back with my world-renowned Gojo charm again~”

Light words following a heavy admission, his humor attempting to bandage over the cracks of what you two had not too long ago. The echo of his words accompany you down the corridor, and despite yourself, you find your lips tugging into the slightest beginnings of a smile. The slightest.

It’s okay. This is okay. Things can go back to whatever they were now - normal, steady.

“World-renowned Gojo charm.” you repeat under your breath, ready to find a quiet corner of campus where you can throw yourself into causal dynamical triangulations. 

Gaze unwavering, Satoru stands still, searching for any signs of you looking back. Turn around. Turn around turn around turn-

“Mr. Gojo, are you going to find the building exit with the same enthusiasm you exhibit when spouting lines from your imaginary romance novel?”

“Ah. Yaga, I was just- wait imaginary? I can assure you that my charm is as real as quantum mechanics - just ask your star student! Although these days even quantum mechanics might have trouble explaining why she’s-”

“Mr. Gojo.”

“Understood. On my way.” A comical salute, “May your lectures be as riveting as my girl when she’s threatening to drown me in clownfish tanks~”

“Good. And please, spare us all from any more ‘unbridled success’ in the future.”

---

The following week turned into a delicate dance, a waltz of cautious side steps and tense half-glances - all of which were met by that fond gaze that made your heart clutch so involuntarily. Like a silent drama where neither of you knew the next line.

The sprawling campus now seemed so tiny, a tension connecting the two of you like an invisible thread. From Professor Yaga’s class - now so dull without that usual bickering - all the way down to that café just off-campus where the stuffy air hums with old banter and unspoken words.

Yet, the routine remained unchanged, you still found yourself visiting there time and time again - by that little booth in the corner, right next to the window. Just without your familiar companion.

You never realized how quiet the café could get without someone talking your ear off about everything from the Pilot-Wave theory to why the little girl at the grocery store who mistook him for a Kakashi cosplayer is definitely conspiring against him. 

It’s thrown you off - and you’re sick of thinking of that stupid smirk when you’re trying to meticulously sort through the overflow of student archives.

Ugh, you’ve been losing sleep over these for days. Feeling hot under your temples, you try to push away the pressure behind your eyes - If you don’t get this categorized before the next meeti-

“Whatcha reading, sweetheart?”

Speak of the devil.

Startled, you look up from your sea of paperwork. 

Ah, there he was. All nonchalance and grace, eyes twinkling with mischief and an easy grin curling his lips. And for a moment - a brief, fleeting moment - you’re filled with a familiar warmth, tension from the past few days melting into nothingness.

“Oh, just some archives.” you blink, with a measured calmness.

“Absolutely fascinating.” Satoru chuckles, sliding into the chair across from you with the casual elegance of someone who’s completely unaware of the mess he left in his wake. “What’s next, a riveting analysis on the historical significance of paperclips?”

Ignoring his banter, you focus diligently on the task at hand - Gakuganji would have your head. “If only. Now what do you want, Satoru? I’m busy.”

His grin widens, undeterred. “Busy with what? Cataloging the thrilling history of staplers and notepads?”

You shoot him a pointed look, “The secret lives of archives can be more scandalous than you think, Gojo.” 

“Just how do you contain your excitement, prez?”

“I don’t.” you drone out. Shuffling your papers, gathering them with a deliberate focus. “Now, if you’re done with your stand-up routine, I actually have work to do.”

Satoru straightens up, the playfulness in his eyes dimming ever so slightly. “Wait wait, sweetheart, we need to talk.”

You let out a sigh - there it is. And maybe you were being petty. Maybe you were slightly scared. “Oh, now, we do? How convenient.”

“Can’t we just go back to the way things were? I don’t want things to be weird between us.” He runs a hand through his silky locks, a gesture that usually accompanies his frustration. 

A bitter laugh escapes your lips. “Weird? Gojo, things have been weird between us for a while now. You just never bothered to notice until it got inconvenient for you..” You stand up, your archives now neatly organized. “I have to finish seven files of these now, excuse me.”

A subtle ache takes residence in your bones as you walk away, his gaze hot on your back. The barista, a friendly soul who had witnessed countless interactions between you and Gojo, offered you a sympathetic smile as you made your way out.

The café's atmosphere, once cozy with laughter, now suffocatingly laced with unease. That invisible thread connecting you both feels strained. Hanging by the thinnest of threads - on the verge of snapping. 

And, yet, through it all one thought rings clear. 

You missed him.

Satoru didn’t know what hurt more - the way you called him “Gojo” or the way he didn’t even get a giggle out of his paperclip joke.

“Gojo, things have been weird between us for a while now.”

Yeah, definitely the way you called him “Gojo”.

“Well, well, if it isn’t the cloud of doom himself. I can barely enjoy my Earl Grey. What’s eating at you, young man?” 

Satoru’s head snaps up at the curious croak, tone a mix of concern and amusement. His eyes meet sharp, perceptive ones that seem to cut through his sulky haze. Oh, it’s the mafia queenpin.

At his wordless staring she plows on, taking a seat opposite him, “Oh c’mon, boy. Don’t think I haven’t seen you lurking and moping about. You’ve got as much subtlety as my late husband - and he once tried to hide a mistress by having her disguise as a potted plant.”

A half-hearted grin makes its way onto his face, “No potted plants here, just the usual existential crisis. You know how it is.”

The old lady snorted, unimpressed. “Please, spare me the theatrics. I’ve seen drama queens with more subtlety. Now spill.”

Satoru hesitated, wincing at the stare that seemed to cut right into his soul. It reminded him of a little someone. 

Finally, he sighs relentingly, “It's complicated. Things with someone... changed. I miss the way it used to be, you know?”

A sharp cackle, echoing in the empty space around them. “Ah, love troubles. You youngsters make it sound so dramatic. Look, boy, if you want something, go and get it.”

He huffs in defeat, now way more into impromptu love counseling than he initially thought he’d be. “I tried but-”

But the old lady cuts him off, sharp and incisive, “Trying isn’t the same as doing, kid. And let me tell you, I’ve seen enough guys like you wasting time pondering instead of acting.” 

It seems this mafia queenpin brought out all the childish, petty sides of him. Because Satoru whines in a way that he definitely wouldn’t if you hadn’t been avoiding him and if you hadn’t called him “Gojo” and-

“But she hates me, and she’s sick of me.” A rare vulnerability creeping into his voice. “Maybe things were better the way they were.”

“Life’s too short for that crap. And trust me, that girl does not hate you, you’re just scaring her off. I would have smacked you after that first dumb comment about paperclips.” The old lady snorts, dismissing his complaint. “Uptight academics, always scared of their own feelings. Afraid that if they acknowledge them, the world might end.” 

Satoru blinks, taken aback by the unexpected insight. “Scaring her off? I'm just being myself.”

She leans in, sharp eyes drilling into him - picking him apart. “Being yourself doesn't mean avoiding the real conversations. You’ve got feelings, boy. Instead of playing the joker, try being sincere for once. Maybe you’ll be surprised.” 

Taking a patient sip of her tea, “Now, go and fix whatever mess you made. Or better yet, just grab the girl and give her a damn good kiss. Works wonders.”

Satoru blinks, taken aback by the unexpected advice. The old lady cackles again, a knowing twinkle in her eye.

“Now, scram, and let an old lady enjoy her coffee in peace.” 

He nods, more to himself than her, feeling a strange mix of determination and embarrassment at being given advice by the same lady he had a silent bet with you about being an underground overlord.

Immediately standing up, he salutes her goodbye before rushing out - only to stop abruptly halfway out the door. Turning and speedwalking back to the table, with a mix of curiosity and urgency. 

“Hey, granny, I have a question.”

“Anything as long as it isn’t my age, boy.”

“Would you happen to have any mafia connections by chance?.”

Ah, you think you’re dying. 

Or maybe that’s just what the towering stack of papers on your cluttered desk want you to think…

It mocks you. A painful reminder of the mundane world you were now in. That invisible thread connecting you to that little booth in the corner of the café now feels like a noose tightening around your neck. 

What’s done is done. And right now you have bigger fish to fry - fish shaped annoyingly like the unresolved chaos of these archives.

You rub your eyes, room swaying slightly as you squint at the tiny print, letters melting into one another and conspiring against you. Rereading the same sentence over and over, sweat beading on your forehead.

God, was the heater on too high?

The documents on the desk seem to dance, a mocking waltz that laughs in the face of your feeble attempts to restore order. Chaos. 

Stop it.  

An incessant pounding on your temples, blood roaring in your ears. 

You reach for a pen, your fingers fumbling as it slips through your grasp. Falling onto the floor with a clatter that reverberates in your throbbing head. Chaos. 

The room is stifling, walls closing in on you. Breaths hot and labored. Temples drumming louder. And louder.  Urgent and insistent. Chaos.

“Open up! It’s Satoru!”

Satoru.

Body acting before your brain, you stagger out of your seat, the world spinning dangerously as you clutch onto the desk for support.

Satoru?

Your unsteady feet carry you towards the door - almost subconsciously. You wince at the stab of pain in your temples as it throbs in time with the urgent knocking.

Hands unsteady on the doorknob, vision bleary, yet you’d recognize that shock of cloudy hair anywhere. His words hit you before the realization that Satoru was here, and why was he here looking so adorably disheveled like he’d run here and what was he rambling about now-

“I'm so so sorry. I messed up, I should’ve noticed. I know I’ve been avoiding the real conversation and I didn’t realize how much-”

His voice, tinged with a vulnerability you’re not used to hearing, is abruptly cut off as Satoru looks up from where he was fumbling with his fingers in nervousness - wide blue eyes taking in your glassy eyes and clammy skin. In your hazy vision you make out the deep concern creeping its way onto those pretty features.

“Sweetheart?”

A sudden wave of dizziness hits you. The room tilts, and for a brief, disorienting moment, you feel like you’re floating in space. Ah, didn’t know you could breathe in space. Wonder if you’ll win a Nobel for this discovery?

A sharp call of your name cuts through the haze, the last thing you register before the world folds around you like a delicate paper. Fading to black., and perhaps the warm arms around you are the only thing grounding you right now. The chaotic waltz has won.

Now, the great Gojo Satoru usually calls his mother for only one of two reasons - 1. His beloved ramen shop is closed, or worse - out of his favorite special spicy sauce, and 2. A dire and life-threatening emergency.

“Mama! I’ve got an emergency and no it’s not the ramen this time.”

His mother’s voice crackles through the phone, a mix of concern and amusement. “Satoru, are you sure it’s that dire? I’m at a work meeting, y’know”

Dramatically, “Of course, mama. Someone I care about is sick. Yes, I have a heart under this fabulous exterior. A real one.”

A brief pause, “Oh my lil’ Toru~ You mean you finally confessed to that student prez you’ve been swooning over for months? The one with ‘a brilliant mind like a quantum computer’ and ‘eyes like-’”

Squirming in embarrassment, “Well- not exactly, but-”

“Spill.”

“I need the recipe to our secret family chicken soup, like, urgently. It’s a life-or-death situation.”

His mother’s laughter echoes through the phone. “Life-or-death, huh? Alright, my little drama king, I’ll send it right away. But you owe me a detailed account of what's happening.”

“Deal!”

With a click, the call ends, and Satoru is left in your hallway, holding you in his arms, desperately awaiting the secret weapon - his mother’s legendary chicken soup.

In the meantime, he shifts you in his arms, steady hands carefully lifting you off the ground, cradling you to his chest. 

Face burning at the practiced way his feet carry him to your room. “Come on, sweetheart. Wake up. Don’t make me regret not calling an ambulance. Should I call an ambulance? No, chicken soup first, then maybe an ambulance. Ugh, I should've paid more attention in first aid.”

Slow, deliberate steps through the corridor. Heart dropping as his eyes catch on the mountains of scattered papers and files. Next time he passes by Gakuganji’s office he’s gonna swap the keys on that fossil’s keyboard. 

The soft click of the door closing seems too loud in the quiet room as he lays you gently on the bed. Heart clenching at the way you bury yourself mindlessly into the covers, pretty eyes still screwed shut, he mutters to himself “What am I going to do with you?”

His gaze drifts to the scattered papers on the floor, starting to gather them, creating a semblance of order amidst the chaos. Satoru glances at you, noticing the creased lines on your forehead even in your unconscious state. A pang of guilt hits him.

“Avoiding the real conversation, huh?” he mumbles, more to himself than to you. He risks a glance at your sleeping figure again, “I’m sorry, my sweetheart.”

Finishing his impromptu cleanup - and after taking maybe one picture of you all snuggled up - he gets up determinedly to make the legendary chicken soup. “I’ll make it right, prez. First, chicken soup. Then, we'll have that real conversation, no matter how scary it gets.”

You wake up to the cacophony of pots and pans, and a voice…cursing bad cooking for being genetic? The aromatic smell of chicken soup hits you - as does the cold sweat beading on your forehead.

Joints aching, you try to sit up, the room still spinning - but ever-so-slightly less than before. Recollections from earlier slowly come to you, you don’t even have to look at the figure now standing at the doorway to know who it is.

“Whoa, there, sweetheart. Lay back.”

Your weakened smile is met with a worried frown. Satoru’s gentle tone, masking his franticness, rings in your ears like a song you loved but haven’t heard in a long time. He rushes to guide you gently back onto the bed, a thumb wiping away the sweat trickling down your temple. “Soup’s on the stove. But first, let’s get you cleaned up. Is that okay?”

Before you can protest - as if you had the strength to - Satoru scampers off to your bathroom. You lay there in the deafening silence as he does. You had an image to uphold, archives to categorize, and a Satoru to distance yourself from. 

But right now, your eyes meeting his like constellations aligning in the night sky as he returns with a small basin filled with warm water, a soft cloth draped over his shoulder, you think that you wouldn’t mind falling apart for him. 

Sitting down beside you, his gaze never leaving your face, “Just relax, sweetheart. I’ve got you.” A tenderness in his voice matching the warmth of the damp washcloth gently dabbing your forehead.

A heavy feeling settles in your gut. You want to shy away from the fondness in those blue depths as they never leave yours. You want to block out the hushed whispers of reassurance as his fingers trail lightly across your skin, uncomfortably hot. You want to cry. 

And you don’t realize you are until Satoru’s hand stiffens, eyes widening with emotions you can’t name. 

Oh. 

Satoru has seen you strong, capable, and fiercely independent. He’s seen you turn his elaborate equation into a doodle of a ramen bowl with the caption, “Even my ramen has more substance than this theory, Satoru.”

But Satoru has never seen you like this. 

“Hey, hey, c’mon. It’s okay, prez. I’m here. I’ve got you.” Satoru whispers, as if afraid that speaking louder might shatter the fragile reality you both find yourselves in.

His words hanging in the air, and the sincerity in his eyes coax you to unravel the knot of emotions you’ve been suppressing ever since you were pushed into that damn closet with him.

“Satoru.” And it spills out. “I’m scared. And I missed you. And I’m scared that I missed you - scared of what that could mean, and scared of where this might lead. Because I missed you and you’re here.”

His brows furrow in concern, but he remains silent, urging you to continue.

“I've built walls, convinced myself that I can’t afford to be vulnerable out of fear of the unpredictable. Yet, here we are. I can’t escape it, and it terrifies me.” you confess, eyes flickering away from the intensity of his gaze as if avoiding the reality of your words.

Satoru inches his hand closer to cradle yours. “You don’t have to be scared, prez, I’m not going anywhere.” His voice a steady anchor, “Though, I was scared too. Scared that if I confronted these feelings, you’d run away. So, I waited, telling myself that I was giving you time, but honestly it was just a shitty excuse.”

His thumb caresses the back of your hand, a gentle rhythm matching the beating of your heart. “Because for all I spout about chaos and uncertainty, facing these feelings head-on is scarier than any angry Yaga.”

A fresh wave of tears - both at his admission and at that familiar attempt to lighten the humor. “You’re an idiot you know.” you sputter.

“I know.”

“And your theories on life and the universe are stupid.”

“Absolutely.”

“And your overpriced glasses make you look like the fourth blind rat from Shrek.”

“Now that’s too far, he’s a mouse, sweetheart.”

A watery chuckle as his fingers interlace with yours. Satoru leans in, his forehead resting against yours - no care in the world for how contagious you might be. Because fuck if the sickness might not be then these feelings sure were.

“You scared me, y’know.” he confesses.

“I’m sorry. I should have taken care of my-”

“Not that.” Satoru’s unspoken words echo in the small, charged space between you two.

Your heart clenches, understanding. “For that, I am sorry, too.”

Disappointment spikes your heart as he withdraws slightly, hand feeling cold at the sudden absence. But before you can question the impending doom at his mischievous glint, Satoru produces a pen from your top drawer. 

“What are you up to now, Satoru?” you drone, raising a brow at his antics.

“Just a little insurance policy.” he smirks at your confused hum, taking your left hand back in his. Pen poised over your ring finger, ink cold on your skin.

“Insurance policy against what?”

“A promise.”

A delicate infinity sign, it draws your gaze and locks it there. You almost miss the flush creeping up on Satoru’s ears, “Just a symbol, y’know- We can get an actual ring if you want, my mother is actually best friend’s with-”

The sight of him makes something bloom in your chest. It hurt. Not because of fear, but because you felt so full. 

Cutting off his rambles with your lips on his. Steady, and electric, molding together as if they were meant to fit perfectly. A lingering promise. 

When you finally pull away, he huffs out an euphoric laugh. “I was gonna say you look like you wanted to kiss me so bad, but you already did.”

Rolling your eyes, “Think if I tell you something now you can write it off as me being sick and delirious?”

“Absolutely not.”

“Satoru, I love you.”

And that’s all Satoru ever wanted to hear.

“And I love you, in every universe.”

---

The sleep that follows Satoru’s “world famous Gojo family chicken soup” - and that heavy conversation - is the best you’ve had in days. You dream of manta rays in tuxedos, the guests of honor at yours and Satoru’s Nobel prize ceremony.

And, 12 full hours later and finally clear-headed, you find yourself groggily standing in the middle of your room. Blinking in disbelief at the perfectly categorized files of archives, and the sparkling organization of your once-scattered space - Satoru, peacefully snoring at your desk, pen still tightly gripped in his hand.

He…finished all of it?

Your heart clenches, warmth flowering all over your body. 

As you approach, Satoru stirs, those familiar blue eyes slowly opening to meet yours. A dazed smile stretches across his face as he sheepishly scratches the back of his head.

“Got a bit carried away. Guess you really are rubbing off on me, prez.” he chuckles, his voice still laced with sleep. 

“Good then, soon your brain won’t be a black hole of theoretical abstractions.”

Eyes sparkling, he throws his head back to laugh, carefree. “There’s my girl. Feeling better now, hm?”

Your face burns at his words, and his proximity as he stands from his chair to tower over you. Heat radiating off his skin. “Yeah, all thanks to your mother’s recipe.”

“And my charm, of course.”

“Oh, yes, the begging on your knees.”

“Hey it worked, didn’t it? Don’t insult the world-renowned Gojo charm that way~!”

You raise an eyebrow, unable to suppress a smirk. “Yes, yes of course. That world-renowned ‘Gojo charm’ strikes again. Is that why Yaga sent me a gift basket apologizing on your behalf?”

“Listen, sometimes collateral apologies are inevitable. And I learned the hard way that wishing Yaga’s lectures are as riveting as my girl when she’s threatening to drown me in clownfish tanks does not go well.”

A startled laugh escapes your lips, sound bouncing off the once-heavy walls, and you almost miss the captivated expression on Satoru’s face. A tender smile spreads across his lips.

Laughter bating, you throw your hands around his waist in one, fluid motion, relishing at his flustered expression. “We should go to the aquarium again sometime.”

“Mhm~”

A beat of silence. One. Two. 

“Satoru?”

He leans in, minty breath fanning your face. “Yes, sweetheart?”

“Thank you.”

Body moving almost subconsciously, your lips crush against his. Hungry and yearning. Kissing each other with a desperation that eclipses the need for air. He didn’t mind dying if it meant suffocating by your lips anyway - both of them. 

You let out a muffled moan as he pulls on your lips, hands snaking down to grip your ass, squeezing possessively. His tongue was sloppy, intertwining with yours with matching urgency. Trapping yours between his ruby lips, sucking so lewdly. 

Large fingers bruising on your waist, pulling you flush against his body till you could feel the incessant banging of his heart against his ribcage - or maybe that was yours. 

His shirt is all but ripped off of him - as is yours, and if you were in a clearer state of mind you’d feel sad at the tattered state of your favorite Steins;Gate t-shirt. But all that flies out of your mind at the creamy skin of Satoru’s chiseled chest. 

You raise your hips to meet the throbbing erection now straining against his pants, fabric stretched and precum forming a pool right at the tip of his leaking head. A low groan is stifled into your mouth, almost as if it hurt to be apart. 

Satoru’s fingers dig into your hips, moving you to grind against his achingly hard length at a maddeningly sensual pace. Up and down, up and down, up and-

A white-hot jolt of electricity runs down to your cunt each time the prominent vein down his side catches on your covered clit, thin panties now soaked with your slick and his precum.

You almost don’t recognize the disappointed whine that leaves your lips as he pulls away, delicate strings of spit snapping.

“You drive me insane, sweetheart.” he murmurs, breathless with lust. 

“The feeling’s mutual, Satoru.”

And it was like something snapped - maybe his sanity, probably you by the end of this.

Because with a low, carnal growl, Satoru picks you up as if you weigh nothing. Seating you roughly onto your nearby desk and pinning you down. Papers scattering everywhere in the heat of the moment, rendering his earlier hard work useless. 

Satoru crowds your space, ravaging your mouth, grinding against your heated core till the only thing you can see is him, the only thing you can feel is him, the only thing you can think of-

Your legs wrap around his waist, pulling him impossibly closer. The friction is maddening, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Yet, Satoru, as always, disrupts your plans. Breaking the heated kiss, he trails his lips down your neck, nipping and sucking at the sensitive skin. You cry out - both in pain and pleasure - as he continues his assault, digging your nails into his sculpted back.

“I won’t be the first one to cum.” he mutters into the crook of your neck as a hand roams up your thigh, deftly pulling off your shorts. You writhe beneath him as lithe fingers tease the hem of your dripping panties, relishing in the choked gasp that leaves Satoru’s mouth as your swollen lips catch on his tip.

“Oh yeah? Damn well won’t be me either.”

You’ve barely gotten the words out before he tears off your panties, pocketing this pair as well for a lonely night - though, with the way your cunt quivers at his touch, he doubts it’ll be any time soon. “Wanna bet, prez~?”

He plunges his fingers inside you with a savageness that steals your breath away. Easily finding that magical spot, thrusting inside to hit it with scary accuracy over and over. Your plush walls convulse around him, crying out his name. Ah, he missed this. 

But you weren’t gonna sit there and be one-upped. A trembling hand moves down to urgently tug down his tight boxers. Rock-hard cock springing out, glistening with precum, your favorite shade of pretty pink. It made your mouth water. 

Satoru’s eyes roll to the back of his head as he feels your tight grip on his length, thumb swirling deftly under the sensitive slit. Spreading his precum along his flushed head. Torturing him. Warmth pooling at your core at the way he fucks your fist in mindless, shallow thrusts.

“Fuck. You really do drive me insane.” he groans, voice strained with desire as he keeps up the punishing pace of his fingers in your dripping cunt. Both of you unrelenting. Both of you in a fight for the other’s release.

It’s a close tie.

“Oh- oh, sweetheart I’m-” 

And Satoru spills into your hand in thick, hot spurts and pornographic moans. Your fist still pumps up and down his twitching length, milking him for all he’s worth as you tip over the edge as well, walls fluttering around his merciless fingers.

“I win.” you challenge, eyes half-lidded as you still reel from the intensity of your orgasm. Satoru’s fingers quiver inside you as he pulls out with a hiss. Pupils blown-out, the look in his eyes feral.

A slow grin spreading across his lips, words breathless and tinged with a bit of insanity that made your pussy clench, “Best out of three?”

“Always knew you were a sore loser.”

“Nah, I’d win.”

“You’re on.”

Before you know it, you’re being thrown onto the bed, bouncing at the sheer force of the throw - cut short as Satoru looms over you, pinning you down onto the mattress.

His lips graze yours with a tenderness that doesn’t translate to his hips as they grind on yours. You moan as his still-painfully hard erection throbs against your wall, head falling back in surrender as your swollen folds envelope him in his favorite heaven. Sensitive - so sensitive. 

Hands moving to your breasts, cupping them, teasing. Rolling your nipples between his deft fingers as your hips buck wildly into his. Precum and slick smearing obscenely. Faster. More desperate. Absolutely filthy. Racing towards the end.

And your voice cuts through the heady air, “W-wait, Satoru, wait. As the winner last time…” Words trailing off enticingly, a hand reaching hastily underneath your pillow. 

Oh, just when Satoru didn’t think you could surprise him any more. 

A jolt goes through his body at the thick, pink vibrator that emerges from beneath the pillow. Sleek metal catching the light, his eyes trailing up, up, up, intimidatingly large in your hands.

Eyes widening, Satoru’s breath hitches in his throat as he watches you handle it with practiced ease. Flip, switch - bzzzzz-

It rings in his ears and resonates through the room. A surprised smile stretched across his lips, despite himself. “Oh, who knew the esteemed student prez was such a little minx. Shit, sweetheart, gonna give me a heart attack.”

“You’re not the only one with lonely nights.” You nod pointedly at his pants - strewn across your bedroom floor and panties stuffed safely in his pocket. 

You bite your lower lip in a way that has probably all the blood in Satoru’s body rushing to his pulsing cock. Aching for something. Aching for you. 

Sensually, you press the buzzing toy against your clit, hips bucking at the immediate and intense stimulation. A jolt of pleasure making you gasp.

Satoru watches, spellbound, as you writhe beneath him - eyes locked so dangerously with his. He can see the slick beading at your folds, pooling onto your bed sheets. 

Impulsively, he reaches out, wrapping a large hand around yours, guiding it to your dripping hole. “Now…” your eyes light up in excitement at his predatory tone. “That’s just playing dirty, prez. I might just cream myself.”

Agonizingly slow, Satoru eases the vibrator inside you, walls clamping down so deliciously. A clever hand draws tight, little circles on your throbbing clit. 

You arch off the bed at the sensation and the stretch - full. So full. Full and so in heaven.

A fresh wave of slick coating the already-glistening metal, Satoru begins to fuck the toy into you, matching the rhythm of the vibrations. Relentless, he was absolutely relentless. Base meeting your swollen lips, tip kissing your cervix. 

It drives you insane. He drives you insane. 

“Fu-fuck Satoru-” Breathing ragged, tears pricking your eyes at the sensitivity, it only takes one two three more thrusts of the vibrator stuffing your cunt before you’re cumming with a loud cry of Satoru’s name, till you see stars behind your eyes. 

“Ah, I’m so glad we made it to the bed this time.” 

“Idiot.”

“Love you too~” Satoru continues to fuck into you mercilessly with it over and over, drawing out your high until you’re left limp and boneless beneath him. The only thing you can do being to take it.

As the shocks of electricity in your body fade, Satoru carefully removes the vibrator. You whimper at the sudden emptiness.

“Round 2 goes to me.” smugness evident in his words, slightly muffled by your lips.

“Shut up and kiss me. It’s the tie-breaker.”

His lips capture yours in a deep kiss. You can taste the salt of your sweat on his lips, and the desperation of the moment. It’s intoxicating. More addictive than any drug in the world. 

Wrapping your arms around his neck, pulling him against your body - sticky with sweat and cum - till you can feel his rock-hard cock once more. Eager and aching for you. Teasing your folds with his leaking tip, readily spreading for him.

Finally, after what feels like hours - maybe even weeks - of buildup, he sheaths himself in your snug cunt the way you’d been dying for these lonely nights with just your vibrator. And with the way Satoru lets out a low, desperate moan - head thrown back - you think he might share the sentiment.

“God. Hah- Ah you look so beautiful under me, sweetheart. Hngh- wouldn’t get used to this in my lifetime.”

“Then hngh- find me in the n-next.”

He presses in slowly, languidly - a sensuality that envelopes you and makes you keen at the stretch. Finally bottoming out, he savors the heavenly feeling of being completely inside you. You really were heaven on Earth. 

Pulling back, prominent veins grazing that spot just right, he rams back into you with purpose. Savoring you. Torturing you. “Satoru oh- f-fuck me like you hah- mean it goddamit.”

But it’s not long before the great Gojo Satoru loses his handle on himself. Maybe it was the tears clinging to your lashes. Maybe it was the way your legs wrap so tightly around his waist, meeting him thrust for thrust. Or maybe it was the fucked-out whines of his name spilling from your mouth.

Because he’s fucking into you desperately. Feral, deliberate strokes that make you ass sting at the smack of his heavy balls. The harsh slapping of skin on skin echoing in your heady bedroom at his unforgiving cadence.

The air charged so tensely that you could barely breath - or maybe that was the way Satoru’s furious tip kissing your cervix over and over knocked the air out of your lungs. Every nerve ending in your body felt alight with white-hot pleasure, electrifying you from the tips of your toes to the crown of your head - filled only with Satoru Satoru Satoru-

Vision blurry, head dazed so lustfully, you barely notice the way Satoru reaches down between you, his fingers familiarly finding your clit to rub harsh circles on it in time with his thrusts. It’s too much. Ah, you were going to pass out.

Instead, you cum - all over his twitching cock. The sensation almost too much as wave after wave of pleasure crashes over you. Especially when your walls clamp down, milking his cock so sinfully as Satoru spills into your snug cunt.

Balls tightening as he thrusts thick ropes of seed into your dripping pussy, your juices mixing with his as he thrusts animalistically into you, fucking it deeper and deeper. Decorating your plush walls white, cum spilling out of your sloppy hole as it overflows. 

Flashes of light behind his eyes at the sensitivity - pain, pleasure, yearning all melting into one, gooey mess that mirrored his heart right now. Desperate calls of your name leaving his lips like a prayer. Because maybe you were his salvation.

With a moan of pure ecstasy at the feeling of being so full you think you’d explode, you pull Satoru to you, nails dragging down his shoulder and every part of you wrapped around him so impossibly tight. As if you never wanted to let go - and you didn’t.

You don’t, even as you both gasp for air - and sanity. Even as he collapses his sweaty body onto yours, careful to not crush you with his weight. And you especially don’t let go as those dazed eyes bore into yours, a tender moment in the weighty silence. 

Because right now, no words were needed.

“I love you.”

“And, I love you. In every universe.”

Except maybe those. 

It’s only once reality is setting in, exhausted and intertwined so tenderly in his arms, that a sense of familiarity permeates the heavy air. 

“I win.”

An agitating, grating voice that you loved so much.

You let out a dragged out groan, rolling your eyes. “That’s only because I went easy on you.”

“Oh yeah? Well, I’d love to prove you wrong, sweetheart, but I think my dick is out of commission for the next week at least.”

A sharp bark of laughter startles its way out of your lips as he bounces you two on the mattress, laying on his stomach and swinging his feet as if he was at some slumber party.

“Soooo~ Now that we’re finally dating, I can finally stop holding back on the quantum entanglement puns, I’ve got a list on my Notes app that-”

“I’m gonna entangle your face with my fist.”

“Jokes on you I’m into that.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“But you love it.”

“Unfortunately.”

---

Gojo Satoru likes to think he’s hilarious. A real connoisseur of the fine art of comedy. The fifth member of Impractical Jokers. 

So, of course, he had to barge into the hell that was his new 8am class with style. Bursting in through the swinging doors, imaginary cape flowing in the wind. Sue him, so what if he’s an attention-whore?! 

His bright gaze sweeps over all the students barely keeping their eyes open, before finally landing on you - on the edge of your seat, brows furrowed so adorably and eagerly drinking in every word Yaga droned on about. Who the hell found advanced quantum physics that riveting?

Intrigue piquing as he makes a beeline to you, Satoru’s heart lurches at that weird little part of him that wishes your attentive gaze was on him instead. Strange. 

Sliding into the empty seat beside you, of course he immediately turns on his world-renowned Gojo charm. You’ll be putty in his hands in no time~!

“Any closer to Yaga and you’d be fucking his wife, y’know.” 

“...”

Okay, maybe that didn’t come out as suave as he expected, but damn, not even a giggle?

You couldn’t blame the guy for getting nervous in front of a pretty girl! Nor could you really blame him for plowing on despite that - not after the jolt of electricity that ran through his body the second your irritated eyes met his. 

Oh wow. So that’s what it’s like to have your soul pierced and buried six feet under.

It was sort of addicting.

And if Satoru thought his knees were weak at just a glare from you - well, he was not ready for the way you snapped at him and told him to shut the fuck up. Ah, truly a woman of his dreams. 

Not even half an hour into the lecture and if you asked Satoru to recall a word spoken by Yaga then he wouldn’t have been able to tell you. The words went in one ear and he couldn’t even remember if it went out the next - too focused on getting your attention on him at least once more. 

He just wished you’d look at him - let him see all the shades of your eyes, and the exact degree at which your lip curls in annoyance. What would that smart mouth say to him next? 

“Now, would anyone here be able to discuss the interpretations in the debate between the Copenhagen interpretation and the Pilot-Wave theory?”

Which is why he positively jumped at the chance to show off his academic prowess to you. Only to find…you teetering on the edge of your seat as well? 

Your voice is even, a fiery glint in your eyes. He’s entranced. 

“The Copenhagen Interpretation uses Heisenberg's uncertainty principle and emphasizes measurement to state that quantum-level particles can act as both waves and particles. It’s the most widely accepted and pragmatic theory.”

Oh. This was going to be interesting.

Heart banging against his ribcage, voice slightly shaky, “Not to be the devil’s advocate but the Pilot-Wave theory makes way more sense practically.”

Thus, Gojo Satoru, in his failed attempts to flirt, starts a rivalry with you that shakes the entire physics department - and his heart. 

He was sure if he told Shoko and Suguru the real reason why he was suddenly spending hours poring over his physics textbooks then they’d definitely laugh their asses off - after giving him a good smack for being so ridiculous. 

It’s not that he didn’t like being on the receiving ends of your snarky remarks and death stares - but it’s just that he also wishes you’d kiss him silly while you do it. God, for someone voted campus hottie three times in a row, why was it so hard to just ask you out?

Which is why, seeing you being dragged into their little circle at that off-brand frat party, he thinks - ah, this might just be fate. 

Silently thanking Shoko for her accidental wingmanning, Satoru watches in amusement as you reluctantly scribble your name on that crumpled piece of paper. And if he slipped in a couple extra with his name on it, well, he was only glad you were too busy cursing his entire bloodline out to catch him.

The smell of cheap beer filling his senses, strobe lights matching the banging of his heart against his chest. Even if he did cheat at the game a little, Satoru didn’t think he’d end the night with your soaked panties burning a hole in his pocket - and the whisper of your lips on his searing even more. He was dazed. 

Was that…a dream? 

It must be, right? There’s no way the gorgeous student prez who hates his guts would suddenly be in the same proximity as him - let alone let him tonguefuck you into insanity. 

You tasted so sweet.

Yeah, must’ve been some hallucination. 

Months later, your soft grumbles in his ear, and your hand warm in his, swinging playfully between you two in the buzzing aquarium - a part of Satoru still thinks he’s hallucinating.

“Slow down, Satoru! The fish aren’t going anywhere.” you huff as he flits excitedly from tank to tank, eyes sparkling like a kid in a candy store. Yet, you couldn't help the beginnings of a smile curling at the corners of your lips at his childlike excitement.

“Can’t! I couldn’t show you this last time, even a hardass like you’d love it.” 

Whatever retort on the tip of your tongue is cut off by the breathtaking sight before you.

A grandiose tank - a kaleidoscope of an underwater world that stretched beyond your field of vision. Hues of blues and greens glimmering before you. Marine life you wouldn’t be able to name - no matter how many hours of watching NatGeo - in an ethereal dance across the water.

“Last time we were here we talked about multiverses. I know now, I hope that in every universe, we’ll be here together. Standing side by side, watching the deep blue and arguing about physics.”

Eyes widening at the beauty - and his words - you turn to Satoru, only to see his piercing gaze already on you. Satisfied grin bathed in a soft blue light from the tank, his twinkling eyes reflecting you and the lights and you. It was beautiful. He was beautiful.

“See? Didn’t I tell you you’d love it? I’m always so great at these thi-”

You shut up that big mouth - with your lips on his. 

Tender and weighty - as if you two had all the time in the world. And, your hands electric under Satoru’s touch, cold metal of the infinity sign searing into your ring finger - you think you probably do. Because Satoru’s tastes like candied apples and everything you could ever want. A promise.

“T-told you I was irresistible.” 

Confident words, muffled by your lips. You pull away with a disbelieving huff of laughter, and you’re glad you did - because you catch a glimpse of the nervous twinkle in his eyes and the flushed cheeks betraying him.

“You wish.” you chuckle, brushing your fingers over his cloudy white locks. That familiar, easy grin tugs on the corners of your heart, and for a moment - just this moment - it feels like just the two of you in this bustling aquarium. In this uncertain world.

“Sure do.” he whispers, as if a secret - meant for just the two of you. 

“Now, my prez, wanna go to our little booth at the café and debate the Copenhagen interpretation and the Pilot-Wave theory?”

A/N. Can you tell the title was inspired by Go For It, Nakamura?

Also so sorry for posting only sporadically this week, for some reason my posts refuse to show up under any tags and as a creator that’s really discouraging. But here’s to next week being better hopefully!

Plagiarism not authorized. 

Taglist:

@bbyxxm @maskedpacific @mrs--imperfect @dunixxd @scarammouch

[strawbrry-vamp]

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 🌸 intro | request rules | fandoms 🌸 *ੈ✩‧₊˚

- basic about me info & main account here ♡

- my ao3

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 🌸 intro | request rules | fandoms 🌸 *ੈ✩‧₊˚

☆ my requests are open!¡!

☆ if im not comfortable writing something, i will say so. i can and will turn down writing something if i am not comfortable with it

☆ requests may be slow, my life is always in shambles and chaos plus i have a job

☆ i write in lower-case :3

☆ i won't write :: full on smut,, drug/alcohol abuse,, highly gory things,, innapropriate age gaps,, transphobia/homophobia/racism etc,, whump fics,, inc3st,, non-con

☆ i will write :: fictional agere/petre,, alternate universes,, mild gore and blood,, some violence,, same sex relationships,, poly relationships,, female/gn/male reader,, non canon/canon compliant,, fluff/angst/hurt comfort,, suggestive stuff,, headcanons,, one-shots/blurbs

*ੈ✩‧₊˚ 🌸 intro | request rules | fandoms 🌸 *ੈ✩‧₊˚

☆ the fandoms i write for most (on my own) are in bold ♡

☆ slipknot

☆ insnae clown posse

☆ babymetal

☆ vocaloid

☆ project sekai

☆ d4dj groovy mix

☆ jojo's bizarre adventure

☆ sanrio

☆ twiztid

☆ eminem

☆ 8 mile

☆ planet of the apes (reboot)

☆ friends (tv show)

☆ slashers

- michael myers,, leatherface,, ghostface

☆ house of 1000 corpses

☆ impractical jokers

☆ killer klowns from outer space

☆ sleep token

☆ green day

☆ ghost bc

☆ mad medicine

☆ miumio

☆ honkai star rail

- robin,, gallagher,, himeko

☆ ryomen sukuna

☆ gojo satoru

[bardoftheshire]

Introduction! [Updated]

Hello! My name is Joe, I use He/Him pronouns. I am a Mexican Author, Musican, and Artist that has been writing and creating art on several different platforms for several years now.

Some of the fandoms and things I am interested in include; Impractical Jokers, Star Wars, Star Trek, The Big Bang Theory, House M.D X-Men, Marvel, DC [Specifically The Batman 2022], Hellboy, Bullet Train, Ghostbusters, and Horror Classic Movies.

Bands I enjoy are; Fall Out Boy, Panic! At The Disco, My Chemical Romance, Muse, Ice Nine Kills, Pink Floyd, The Rolling Stones, and Gorillaz.

Fandoms I will write for-

X-Men

MCU

DC

Hellboy

Bullet Train

Better Call Saul

Characters (And People,) I Will Write For [Specific]

Brian Quinn (Q) [Impractical Jokers]

Patrick Stump [Fall Out Boy/Band]

Lemon [Bullet Train]

Tangerine [Bullet Train]

Egon Spengler [Ghostbusters]

Peter Maximoff [X-Men]

Peter Quill [Guardians of the Galaxy]

Paul Dano [Characters]

James Wilson [House M.D]

Fic Genres I Will Write:

Fluff

Angst

Platonic

Hurt/Comfort

Songfics

Things I Will *NOT* Write;

Smut/NSFW

Onecest

Incest

Pedophilia

PWP

Ships

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

Now that all of that is out of the way, I hope you all enjoy reading my works.

Send in your requests for stories! Look at my introduction to see if anything you like is something I'll write, and DM me for further questions!

[thismachinefucksguitars]

Okay, and hear me out, almost all Batman comics involving Joker hinge around the fact that Batman is barely holding on by a thread and the only thing keeping him from going down a dark path is his self-imposed impractical rule. But what if he DOESN'T go down a dark path, and instead Jason Todd starts abusing his power.

It would be shocking and almost anticlimactic for Bruce to see himself NOT become a twisted psycho, after all the metric truckloads of angst and all the situations where forcing himself to obey his rule has extreme consequences. But what if his suffering was still vindicated, by his own pupil endangering others?

Jason has every reason to get sloppy and overambitious. After all, he was proven entirely right about Batman. And it must annoy Jason how Batman still feels so guilty, and doesn't come around to his way of thinking, even when the entire city agrees he did nothing wrong. Well, now that Batman isn't crime-fighting and is instead cowering with therapists and the now preoccupied bat-family, SOMEONE has to clean up the streets.

Jason doesn't become a villain outright. He takes charge because he has to, and he's not as restrained. Innocents get killed by accident. Okay, Batman would've handled the situation better, but after all, Batman has endangered far more people by sticking to his silly rule. Slowly, Jason shows the signs of power corrupting that Bruce was terrified of seeing in himself.

Of course Jason is annoyed when Batman FINALLY shows up, only to lecture him. Hasn't he already been proven wrong, the hypocrite? Jason knows that it hurts when he points out what Batman did, how he broke his rule. But he's not taunting like a villain, he just wants to get it through his thick stubborn skull. If Batman has a panic attack by him just pointing out the obvious, that's his own fault.

Of course Jason doesn't see any parallels between himself and Joker. He might be goading a traumatized Batman to be more comfortable with killing, but he's not some kind of psycho, he's just *frustrated* and wants Batman to understand. Sure, Jason has made more mistakes than usual recently, but he genuinely feels bad about them, he doesn't revel in it. But this just makes Batman more angry because feeling sorry isn't enough he would never have made those mistakes- not with Joker exploiting his every misstep - *could* never have made those mistakes.

And now that Jason sees how unstable and irrational Batman has become, and he's been running the crime-fighting business on his own just fine, when Batman tells Jason to stand back or there will be consequences, of course the first thing he says is "Or what? You'll kill me?"

Their tussling isn't an all-out battle at first. They're just trying to nudge each other out of the way, often letting the criminals get away.

The thought must occur to Jason that of course he can't beat his mentor, so if he really wants Batman to step aside for a long time, he needs to give him a bit of emotional shock so he goes back into retirement. Nothing sadistic, just something along the lines of taunting Batman into a little skirmish and making Batman think he killed him. Of course he's not acting like the Joker. He's being pragmatic. Rational.

What he didn't count on is that detective work is Batman's enrichment. No matter how traumatized, give this man a puzzle and he's LOCKED TF IN. Whatever scheme Jason thinks up, Batman will piece together, and sit down to have a lecture with the edgy pragmatist. After all, Jason isn't as clever a schemer as Joker was. There's no malicious cunning in anything Jason does, just overconfidence of a boy whose ego started to get too big.

Jason's critical mistake was thinking that Batman was unstable. Batman himself obsessed over the idea that killing someone would make him lose his mind. But all the angst over killing Joker, all the sobbing to therapists and friends, all the doubling-down on a creed that surely was disproven - that wasn't Batman losing it. That was Batman healing.

And even though Batman is mentally more stable than he thought, all his angst over not killing - all the impossible decisions he made and suffering he went though in order to never kill - is vindicated. Batman doesn't kill, not because he'd be "just as bad as Joker", not because his traumatized mind would be easily corrupted, but because anyone who thinks themselves rational and above corruption is just as likely to be tainted by power.

(Now you just have to write this so it doesn't read like "Jason Todd is dumb and the no kill rule is the objectively correct way to act in every situation" because you know there's gonna be people interpreting it this way. Make the final lecture less about "your philosophy is wrong" and more about "don't ever try that, kid, you're not the Joker, and that won't break me" and have Jason realize "oh shit I have been acting kinda careless out of frustration. Still gonna stick to my guns but I'm not gonna entirely replace Batman".)

(Maybe Batman can also pull his own Jokeresque stunt on Jason to really show "Don't ever pull that kind of stunt, I know Joker better than you ever could". Having two heroes trying to out-Joker each other is the best possible way to end a storyline involving Joker's death.)

I have been thinking lately about a universe where Bruce Wayne killed the Joker.

I want to be clear here, since there are so many longstanding debates on this topic: I do not think Bruce Wayne should kill the Joker. I have just been wondering what would happen if the circumstances aligned in such a way that he did.

And to be clear on a related, yet slightly different topic: when I say I have been wondering about what if Bruce Wayne killed the Joker, I do not mean as the Batman. I mean Bruce "Brucie" Wayne.

Maybe it's kind of an accident? Like, he definitely did intend to hit the Joker, but he's Brucie right now, so he's trying not to look like he knows what he's doing while still doing enough damage to keep the Joker from killing someone, and meanwhile the Joker makes just the wrong move and -

And here we are. Brucie just killed the Joker.

Bruce's reaction here is one thing; he has his one rule for a reason, he's just broken it, he's determined to turn himself in -

His family's reaction is a whole different story. How does Cass feel about this?

How does Jason? Bruce has killed the Joker, just like he wanted, but it wasn't for him, not really, and -

And meanwhile, this happens in front of, say, a gala full of people, so now all of Gotham gets to react to it too.

Average Gothamite, seeing the words BRUCE WAYNE, JOKER, and KILLED in the same headline: OH, NO.

Average Gothamite, once they've processed the order those words are actually in: . . . I did not have that on this year's bingo card.

The city's most famous mass murderer has just been publicly killed by the city's biggest employer/philanthropist/source of tabloid harmless nonsense! Three days before Brucie was making tabloid headlines by tripping into a fountain and somehow losing his shirt in the process! Two weeks before, the newspaper was running a retrospective on the Wayne murders and what donation Brucie was making to help the families of victims this year! The article mentioned how one of his adopted sons had also tragically become a murder victim!

Now this has happened, and Bruce is having a breakdown over breaking his one rule, and the rest of Gotham just assumes that this is because poor Brucie thinks this somehow makes him like the man who killed his parents. They send a huge outpouring of support his way. This in no way helps Bruce's actual breakdown.

Ninety percent of Gotham is sure Brucie didn't actually mean to kill the Joker, and pretty much a hundred percent of them support him whether he meant to do it or not. No one wants to have anything to do with prosecuting this mess. Bruce is trying to make it as clear as possible that he will fully cooperate with the justice system and meanwhile an entire gala full of people is suddenly acting like they could in no way have possibly witnessed events that took place ten feet in front of their faces. Did Bruce kill the Joker? Is the officer sure? That doesn't seem like him. Maybe the Joker just tripped on his own. Marble floors, you know. Very slippery.

[writer59january13]

The following fictitious scenario I evoke

Analogous to fire breathing puffed up imaginary dragon (in a land called Honah Lee) ye might rightly think what the deuce haunting spectre ace of spades goodfella aiming to be a poet all about, meaning sexagenarian wordsmith, this once upon a time jackanapes presently decked out like cadaverous card

still sporting fine kingly raiment and crown of thorns atop noggin impossible mission to disguise rapscallion mien, nevertheless mine true harmless colors glowingly dim meant shunned buzzfeeding demonic, horrific malefic tightly coiled asp symbiotically fostering mein kampf

thru poisonous white fangs,

I strive and stride rite to live life like good humor man, until grim reaper rocked my boat whose death on par for an impractical joker,

after rigor mortis seized body electric, hence burial at sea where mates honored wish of mine on the briny deep shipped overboard in a casket wrought of oak, where (yes) grateful dead foo fighter

hoisted into Davy Jones' locker after one last exhilarating heavenly toke

from potent Cannabis and draught of stout ale finally freed me from ills of a morose lactose intolerant impotent existence that did yoke body and mind and set spirit soaring like aircraft christened Saint Louis mine being riddled with angst.

When alive with the sound of music and robust health smitten with searing infatuation to sow seeds of life and white lily during jump/kick starting manhood, when hormonal secretions found me being naughty bit player for prime time innocent untainted puppy love

concerning fecund (she), the unbeknownst petty heartbreaker with whom I fancied and fantasized to pledge my troth

which hand of distressed damsel never tested to fit mine like a glove,

nor sanctified debauched soul asylum demise and death be not proud courtesy

Spiritus Mundi above.

Now gnarled arthritic fingers

and bowed back

these lovely bones severely jangled, when cough that doth wrack

accompanied by thick choking phlegm gagging yours truly while lying supine on me deathbed disrupted with torturous hack

panting like an overworked dog

even after the leash goes slack.

Every end of year

when auld lang syne sung

weather beaten formerly well muscled skiff wrung after being subjected to whims of mother nature cannibalistic headhunters interestingly enough poked and prodded buzzfeeeding me rawbits eroded taste buds populating tongue

recorded global cuisine avast webbed wide world across all four directions of compass found globetrotter huzzaing

experiencing evanescent, concupiscent and acquiescent aborigines far flung, where couple females in particular among the madding crowd of barenaked ladies struck my fancy

amusing themselves with innocent coy non verbal repartee, where one in particular approached

with outstretched legions of extensive alms, where colorful amulets sported to stave off superstitious shrunken skull and crossbones dangled and clung.

[salvatorequinn]

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] last updated: APRIL 6, 2023

I write about whatever I feel like at the time, but mostly Impractical Jokers bs. I just joined so my blog is mostly empty, but slowly I'm going to start filling up with old and new scraps.

Please do not republish, repost, or alter my fics in anyways. Recommendations are okay as long as you tag me.

»»————-　♡　————-««

ABOUT ME

august | she/they virgo istp | joe keery, stranger things, stardew valley

❤ : candy, cats, , candles, makeup, music, hearts, legos, writing, drawing, coloring, fashion, sunflower seeds.

✖ : milk chocolate, mud, being in rain, the beach, non-fiction.

learn more about me here

»»————-　♡　————-««

MISC BULLSHIT

currently only writing impractical jokers, but I will take requests if I know the character! (I don't watch anime btw)

will write smut, angst, fluff, and anything asked. I will absolutely not write about any triggering topics like sa, sh, abuse, ed, etc, if you're unsure of your request, send it anyway and i'll get back to you. reader is of age in all of my writing.

currently do not have a taglist, but I can make one if you ask!!

I absolutely take criticism and feedback!

masterlist | requests | commissions

»»————-　♡　————-««

CHECK ME OUT

ask box : [ open ]

request status: [ open ]

commissions: [ open ]

spotify | wattpad | ao3 | art

»»————-　♡　————-««

[ ❥ ] ~ SALVATORE QUIN

[quixotic-writer]

Please Don’t Leave Me

Song inspo: Hidden in the Sand — Tally Hall

Summary: Q has a terrible nightmare that he has a repeat of his last serious relationship and wakes up in the midst of an anxiety attack and his girlfriend helps him get through it.

The mist of the sea sprays them as they walk along the shore. Wet sand squishes between each toe with each step they take leaving a trail of footsteps behind them. Q looks out along the gray cast coast line with clouds swept gently across the sky, the sun lightly illuminating their path. He holds her hand carefully in his, looking at her and watching as her hair flies in the wind. She walked like a work of art and had the complexion of a flower budding in the spring.

They stop under the old empty pier where the air is cold and crisp and a breeze consistently flows through, they watch along the shore as the waves come crashing in sizzling as they dissolve on the shore. The songs of the waves and the creaking if the old pier filled their ears.

“It’s such a beautiful today. I’m so happy i’m spending it with you.” He says hushed, admiring the woman that stood next to him. She looks up in his eyes and he could tell immediately something was different.

“We need to talk. Real talk.” This sentence always made Q’s stomach plummet below the earth, but he took it in good faith hoping it’s not what he thinks it might be. Maybe it’s about marriage, or dinner, starting a family, anything but what he fears it could be.

“Sure, anything. Be open. Be honest.” He says taking both her hands in his, but she draws away from his hold and folds them protectively against her chest.

“Listen. I like you a lot, I really do. But I just can’t do this anymore.” She took another step back, at this point Q’s gears were working over time trying to make sense of what he just heard.

“What? What do you mean?” Puzzled and looking for answers he looks at her trying to get some explanation at the suddenness of this outlandish statement. Her eyes were avoiding contact with his as she looks to the ground.

“You’ll find someone. I already have.” Q feels his heart pounding out of his chest at a million miles a minute. Was he hurt? Confused? Bewildered? He wasn’t sure. But the only emotion he could put into words was overwhelmed. “It’s high tide Brian. It’s sink or swim.” She turns around and disappears into the sea mist and fog. Q reaches out for her but his feet won’t move. Soon the water began to engulf him and he was deep in the waters. His arms cut through the water trying to reach the surface but it was no use, the water soon encased him. Each breath he took felt like he was breathing in ash from a fire and all his cries were trapped in his throat and couldn’t escape, only bubbles are released from his mouth, his cries are left silent.

He saw the sun peaking through the top of the water from where he was, but he kept sinking down and the light began to fade like an old TV shutting off and the screen closing in.

It happened again. It always happens. Just when you think everything is fine, they always find someone else. No one truly loved him. He wasn’t worthy of love.

“Brian? Brian? Brian!” Was all he heard muffled in the waters. He closed his eyes and stopped struggling in the waters as he was encased in his aquatic tomb. He just let his body go and accepted his fate, it’s what he deserved, it’s what he wanted.

“BRIAN!” Q’s eyes shoot open and he’s shaking profusely and his cheeks are soaked with tears his body drenched in nervous sweat. He looks over and sees his girlfriend sat up in bed with her arm on his. She was illuminated by the light on the nightstand and had a look of concern in her eyes. “Honey, it’s okay. It’s was a nightmare. Look at me, it’s okay i’m here. Take a moment and breathe please.” She spoke softly. Q hadn’t realized how erratically he was breathing, he was taking small shallow gasps of breath and slowly wrapped his arms around her.

“Please don’t leave.” Was all he said quietly with a shaky groggy voice. She reciprocates and wraps her arms around him and rubs his back softly and delicately.

“Hey big guy, i’m not going anywhere okay? I’m here. Just please take a moment to steady your breathing okay? In through your nose, out through your mouth. Steady now.” She said quietly as he tried his best to follow along as she imitated the action. “Grounding techniques sweetie. Let’s do it together, okay? 5 things you can see. 4 things you can feel. 3 things you can hear. 2 you can smell. 1 you can taste. Ready?” He nods his head and begins listing off everything. She sits next to him and spoke in a calm voice coaching him through it. She has his hand in hers and rubs gentle circles with the pad of her thumb.

They lay in bed quietly together, he held her close to his chest until he finally was calm. Nothing else was said after that. The quiet felt like comfort and understanding. And that was all that Q had needed.

[howlettsbaby]

His Doll ~ ౨ৎ

older!brian x younger!reader headcannons

warnings; lots of tooth-rotting fluff, brian being a cutie, nsfw themes, mentions of oral and unprotected sex, perv!brian, possessive!brian, overall not much

SFW

- brian LOVES his little doll more than anything in the world, he’s such a caregiver.

- you struggled reaching the higher selfs in the cabinet, trying to get your favorite snack when he came in the room. once he saw you, he let out a little chuckle noticing your struggle. you turned around when you heard your boyfriends laughs. “can you help me bri?” he nodded and walked over to you, rubbing a hand on your back. “which one you want princess?” he looked up and down before you pointed to your favorite bag of chips. instead of him reaching up and grabbing them, he snuck his hands around your waist and lifted you up so you could receive what you’d been eyeing.

- he definitely spoils you as much as he can. buying you all your necessities, and even items you don’t need.

- he keeps his eyes and ears open for you constantly. he’s always there for assistance! and like i said, he’s such a caregiver.

- one day, you were sitting home alone in the bathroom realizing you had just started your period. before even reaching for you phone - you heard the front door unlock and someone making their way towards your shared restroom. once brian opened the door, you noticed him holding some female products. “noticed you ran out,” he’d say as he handed them to you.

- at all times he must be connected to you, whether its him rubbing your thigh, holding hands, or even just his hand on your shoulder. he ALWAYS needed to be in contact with you physically.

- despite others in public notably conspiring about your age gap, neither of you made it come in-between your relationship.

- he loves you, and you love him.

- extremely possessive of you.

NSFW

- his favorite position his missionary, so he can see the bliss running across your face while he makes you feel good.

- “feels good baby?” he’d teasingly chuckle, knowing you’re too fucked-out to respond.

- he does everything to make you aware that your pussy belongs to him.

- such an ideal boyfriend when it comes to pleasing you. need his mouth on your throbbing clit? he’s there. want him to fill you up with his cum? he’s there.

- he’s a bit of a perv in your relationship. you’ve noticed some of your underwear missing and after a while, you started thinking it wasn’t your washing machine eating your panties.

- he fucks his hand out of jealousy when you go out in public without him. ESPECIALLY if you’re dressed a certain way

- “miss you” he would text so simply, and then a picture of his hard dick would pop up on your screen making you hide your phone in the crowd.

- his favorite place to fuck you is definitely in the shower. seeing your tits all soapy drives him insane.

- this man is the KING of aftercare. he holds you close after sex not wanting to ever let you go.

i hope you guys enjoyed <3

[bqu1nns]

hiiiiii!!! thank u for ALL the freaking love on my posts/dm's i have recieved!! dont be afraid to leave a request in my inbox if u guys have any ideas for things u want to see me write (im currently writing a smut request... ask away!!) for this fic i wanted to delve in deeper with more "darker" themes of past s@ and other stuff :'( ive gone thru this myself and i just wanted to write it out!! also this is basically about brian doesnt want u to leave him because youre returning for a new sem in college/uni and hes gonna miss u. i hope u guys this like this one + ask me if u guys want a SERIES of this one.. i have so many ideas. LOVE YALL!! ps. i will be writing HOPEFULLY every single day from now on :0)

also i was inspired to write this based off of "smoke signals" by the beautiful and charming phoebe bridgers. song is about reconnecting with the broken parts of yourself and confronting the truths that hadn't been said before... YES!

also idek if brian smokes.. i know he smokes w33d sometimes but idk about cigarettes? hopefully that didn't ruin the story sorry :'(

smoke signals ꔫ brian q.

1385 words

the evening had been a whirlwind of laughter, warmth, and drunk friends that lingered long after they bid their goodbyes to me and brian. brian had this way of making you feel like you were the only person in the room. tonight had surely been no different. after a cozy dinner and hours of effortless conversations. his laughter echoed in your mind like a favourite song you just couldn't forget, but it wasn't the laughter you awoke to hours later. it was complete and utter silence. 

the bed was empty next to you, the indent of his body still carved into the soft mattress. the faint scent of his smell— earthy and familiar—lingered into the sheets. you sat up slowly, the blanket pooling around your waist, you scanned the room. it sure was quiet, safe from the muted hum of the city below. then, you saw it: a faint glow from the balcony door, the flicker of a lighter’s flame sparkling against the night. 

you pulled on his hoodie from the chair by the bed—it smelled like him, a little worn—and stepped out onto the balcony, barefoot and all. 

brian stood with his back to you, the city skyline stretching out before him like a sea of fractured stars. the cigarette between his two calloused fingers burned lazily, the smoke curling up and flowing into the night’s air. he was still, almost too still, his shoulders tense beneath his band t-shirt. for a moment, you hesitated, not wanting to intrude. 

“i can feel your eyes on me, hon,” brian said, his voice low and gruff, cutting through the silence. 

you froze for a second, but then a smile crept onto your lips. “you can feel my eyes on you?,” you stepped closer to his side.

he turned his head just slightly, enough for you to catch the edge of his smirk, “you've got a stare that's pretty hard to miss.”

you leaned against the railing beside him, letting your arms brush his, the sudden contact seemed to soften him up. he glanced up and down at you, smiling softly, and then at the cigarette between his fingers before taking a slow drag, ember glowing briefly in the dark. 

“couldn't sleep?,” you asked, breaking the silence once again.

he exhaled, the smoke curling past his lips. “didn’t see the point of it,” he chuckled. “you?”, he nudged your shoulder.

you shrugged, pulling his hoodie tighter around yourself. “woke up and you weren't there. thought you’d been abducted by aliens or something.”

that earned a quiet laugh from him, but it didn't quite reach his eyes. he tilted his head back, staring at the night sky—or what could've been beyond the city lights. “nah, if the aliens wanted me, they’d have come for me a loooong time ago.”

he wasn't a man who wasted his words.

“brian,” you started gently, the breeze carrying your hair softly, “what's going on?”

he didn't answer right away. instead, he just stared out at the city, the glow of the streetlights casting colourful shadows across his face. he finally spoke, voice low, almost like a whisper. 

“you're leaving tomorrow.”

you swallowed, the weight of his words setting over you. “you know i have to, bri,” you said softly.

his rough hands gripped the railing, knuckles clenching. “do you remember what you told me when i left for college? seems like it was ages ago.”

the question caught you off guard, but it didn't take long to search through your brain to find the answer. you remembered every word, every tear-stain on your pillow, every goodbye. 

“i told you that i couldn't stand being away from you when you're gonna be in a whole other state while i'm here finishing highschool,” you said quietly.

brian nodded, “you said it wasn't fair to either of us. that we needed to live our own lives.” he paused, put the cigarette out, squishing it. “but i didn't know what you were really going through.”

you flinched at the memory of those days, flooding back like a tidal wave. the nights you cried yourself to sleep. the mornings you woke up feeling like a shell of yourself; pearl taken away from you by some other man. the way you couldn't bring yourself to tell him about the assault—how could you? how would that conversation even go? he was already carrying the weight of his own future and you’d been drowning in yours. 

“i didn't want to hold you back,” you said, your voice barely above a whisper.

he turned to look at you then, his eyes searching for something. “you didn't hold me back,” he said, his voice cracking a little. “i didn't understand why you left back then. i just…i thought i wasn't enough for you to fight for.”

the words hit you like a good punch in the gut, and for a moment, you couldn't breathe. “brian, it was never like that. it wasn't that,” you said, voice trembling. “i was—” you stopped, choking over your own words. “i didn't leave because i didn't love you. i left because i didn't know how to handle what happened to me. i couldn't handle us while trying to put myself back together.”

the weight of your confession hung in the air, words you didn't even really realize within yourself just popped out. for a moment, he didn't say anything. he just stared at you, face softening as the anxiety drained away from his features. 

like he had tears in his eyes. 

“i know that now,” he said finally, voice getting quieter. “i know why you did what you did but that doesn't mean that it didn't hurt like hell.”

“i didn't want to hurt you,” you whispered. “i thought i was doing the right thing. you had a whole future in front of you, and i didnt want to drag you down with my… mess.”

he reached out, hand brushing yours. “you weren't ever a mess to me. you're never going to lose me.”

“but what if i do?” you whispered, question trembling in the space between the two of you.

“when you left last time,” his voice low and unsteady, “it felt like…like someone had ripped out the ground beneath me. and i told myself that i’d never let anyone have that kind of power over me. that i’d never fall in love again.”

you bit your lip, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. 

“but then you came back into my life,” he continued, voice softening. “and all that—everything i’d tried so fucking hard to bury—it came rushing back like it had never left me, even for a second. and i let it back in. for you. us.”

you reached for his hand, threading your fingers through his. his rip was firm, grounding, like he was holding on for the both of you.

“It's ironic, isn't it?” he said, the corner of his mouth turning into a smirk. “you're the one that's going to college and leaving this time.”

“i don't want to go.” you chuckle as tears spilled over now, hot and out of your control. you hugged him tightly, putting your face into the crook of his neck. 

“then stay,” he said, cradling your face in between his hands, kissing your cheeks sweet and slowly. 

“i can't,” you said, wiping your tears. “you know i can't. but that doesnt mean im letting you go. not this time.”

he lets out a shaky breath and you feel it on your skin. “feels like you're slippin’ through my fingers all over again, doll.”

you turned to him, hand reaching to touch his face, your thumb brushing against the scruff of his jaw. “i'm not,” you said, words steady even though your heart ached. “i'm not going to let us fall apart. you have to believe me, bri.”

he leaned into your touch, pressing a kiss to your hand. “you swear?” he asked, barely above a whisper. “i swear,” you said, “i love you too much to lose you again.”

he pulled you tightly into his arms, holding you like he was afraid you’d disappear if he let go. “i love you so much…too much baby,” he murmured into your hair. 

“let's get back to bed, hmm?” you say as you pull back, leading him back in. 

“you sure we’ll actually sleep?”

– ♡

would u guys want me to make a pt 2 of this or a series of this fic with them of them going to the airport perhaps and dropping reader off.... maybe... college!gf and firefighter!brian .... im dropping my fantasies onto you guys SOUNDS FUN!!!

[sibsteria]

Bygones (Brian Quinn)

a/n I wrote this so long ago, don’t sue me

Prompts: ''I never meant to hurt you'', ''I need to leave'', ''I thought you loved me'' Summary: Tabloids can be harmful, they can also be eye opening realisations. Warnings: Angst ↴ Thin autumn crispness layered the air around the city, leaves blew from place to place aimlessly, hues of orange and red bustling the long streets. Summer had passed, come and gone like seasons often do. Frost brushed over the once green grass, the once clean bricks. Fall season.

I was scrolling needlessly on my laptop, scouring news coverage, pointless quizzes, buzz stories for the public. Induced in a hot chocolate coma I almost don't hear the subtle ping from my laptop, alerting me of a new story produced by one of the many weeklys seeking attention. Hovering my mouse pointer over the notification, the title catches my eye:

SUMMER ROMANCE OR RETIRED FLING? READ FOR MORE

I wonder which washed up celebrity has been caught mid an affair this time. Opening the page, pictures of the alleged liaison are plastered throughout the webpage. The thing that caught me off guard was the fact that I was sure I recognised that tuft of hair...and that nose...and that face. I can feel my heartbeat in my fingertips as I scroll to read the article, dread fills me quicker than a laundry basket.

SUMMER ROMANCE OR RETIRED FLING?

New seen photos, released from press spotlight TruTV's own Brian Quinn [Q] known for hit show Impractical Jokers caught meandering with an old flame on Venice's Lido beach. Former ladies man found cheating on long-time girlfriend Y/n L/n during their [Impractical Jokers] summer tour. What will become of the well loved daytime TV couple? Click for more.

I shut my laptop with a force, unable to read any more. The gall. The gumption, the cheek, the absolute audacity of the man. Dare I say, boy. Of course it was true because of the incriminating pictures, courtesy of the paparazzi. There was no denying it now, I had my suspicions something was up due to the constant phone calls from his work meant for him labelled as a 'PR control issue' along with his refusal to elaborate. He had done it before, not to me, but other hopeless women who he promised a life with. I thought it was different with me? Grave disheartenment washes over me. It's futile for me to carry on like this with him. I'm not an incompetent slut like the women he chooses to seduce. I can safely assume there are women not just a woman.

This worthless relationship, torn apart. If I choose to remain here, I will only end up in a vicious cycle going nowhere, of remote self-pity. I couldn't stay in the apartment, our apartment. Taking my laptop in my stride I lead into the bedroom, packing an overnight bag of my favourite items. I set it on the couch and walk toward the fridge, a collage of happy photos with my boyfriend endow the exterior- taking one from the night he came home from tour, I shred it in my own hands. I pull out paper and a simple ball point pen from the kitchen draw, I begin to write.

Oh dear Brian, How lovely of you to cheat on me during a time where I longed for you to be next to me. How lovely of you to continue our relationship out of dishonesty and adultery. How lovely of you to attempt to keep the matter quiet, addressing it as a PR control issue. I hope you have a nice life full of heartbreak and regret. Love, Y/-

I'm interrupted by the clip of a lock from the front door. I was hoping to leave before he came home, hoping to have no confrontation with the cheating pig. ''Hey, Y/n, sweetheart? I'm home-'' I squeezed my eyes tight with hurt, a tear escaping. I stay silent sat at the kitchen counter. ''Where are you?'' He walks into the kitchen. ''What are you doi- hey, hey why are you crying?'' He leans down to comfort me, I hold up my palm hastily, pardoning his speech. ''Save it. Tabloids came out. You're little PR control issue is no longer controlled.'' He stumbles over his words for an explanation. ''I don't-, what? I- what do you mean?'' He struggles to compose himself. ''I left you this to read, I'm uh, staying James' tonight, you can let me in tomorrow to get the rest of my things.'' I throw him the letter, he flails trying to catch it. He speed reads it whilst I grab my bag and coat. ''Hey! Wait no, let me explain!'' He shouts after me, dropping the letter as he haphazardly runs into the hallway.

''There's no need. I get it. Wasn't enough and never will be, story of my life. And yours is sad, sad and not falling short of bitter endings.''  ''Please, I never meant to hurt you, you can't go. I need you.'' He whispers. ''You don't need to feel guilty, I thought you loved me but you didn't. Just goes to show who you truly are as a person.'' More tears stream down my face, and his. ''No, I do love you, I do. I love you more than anything, more than anyone. You're all I have, please don't go. Please?'' His begging is ineffective, he hurt me. ''I need to leave. I can't stay here and be with you knowing what you've done. Knowing that you've shoved your dick into another girl’s willing throat.'' Just an accusation but probably not untrue.

''They didn't mean anything to me, not like you. I just-'' ''You just like sex more?'' I sniffle, rolling my eyes. ''No! But if you would just listen-'' ''No buts. I don't need to listen to what you have to say because it's nonsensical. It doesn't matter anymore. We're over and done with. Now you can run along and join your ever-growing list of sluts, fucks and nut busts.''

''Please.'' He's crying, hard. But it won't stop me, because it won't change. I unlock the door and stride off with no looking back.

3rd POV Brian is left on the the floor of their apartment, somehow empty yet full of regret. Moving to grab her letter, he feels cold and lost. He let something incredible go for the sake of a pump and dump, one ride night of sex. What she will never know is how broken he is, how incapable he is of pulling himself together. He broke her and she built herself up. She broke up with him and he stays unfixed, damaged and shattered like his favourite mug, a home-leaving present from his bygone.

[urfavsimpingfanficwriter]

Masterlist

REQUESTS: OPEN

(I am still working on fanfictions that have already been requested) 

These are the fandoms and the characters I have written for so far, along with the fanfictions associated with them!

Also: Read the Rules and Regulations I Have Posted!

❤️: Smut  ♦️ : Angst  ♣️ : Fluff    

Stranger Things

Steve Harrington-

Steve Harrington- Angst Drabble♦️

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Labyrinth

Jareth (goblin king)-

NSFW Alphabet❤️♣️

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Friends (TV Show)

Chandler Bing-

 Love Me More- Chapters ♦️♣️

Incorrect Fic (One) ♣️

Joey Tribbiani-

Love Me More- Chapters ♦️♣️

Joey Tribbiani Headcanons- A Recommendation ❤️♣️

Incorrect Fic (One) ♣️

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The Office (TV Show)

Jim Halpert-

Request❤️♣️

Tension (request)❤️

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Criminal Minds (TV Show)

Spencer Reid-

“Until We Meet Again”❤️♦️

“Until We Meet Again Part 2″♦️

“Until We Meet Again Part 3″ ❤️♣️♦️

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Impractical Jokers (TV Show)

Brian Quinn-

“Bathroom Sex - A Recommendation” ❤️♣️

"Kinktober Day 2"❤️

Sal Vulcano-

Sal Vulcano Smut- A Recommendation❤️

[bitxhyprinxess]

hihiii okay so i really wanna get back into writing but i have no idea what to write so could y’all pls give me some ideas?

~people~

-Spencer Reid (CM)

-Colby brock

-Machine Gun Kelly

-Synyster Gates

-Luke Patterson (JATP)

- Diego (TUA)

- Jack Dawson (Titanic)

Brian Quinn (impractical jokers)

Dean Winchester (supernatural)

smut, fluff, angst- literally anything pls i need to practice 🫶🏻