#quantum flush

[demmyfuji]

[tonycries]

Go For It, Gojo! - G.S.

Synopsis. You wouldn’t fuck Gojo Satoru even if you were paid… …is what you thought exactly five minutes before you were shoved against the wall of this cramped closet, his face stuffed in your soaked panties.

Pairing. Gojo Satoru x Reader

Content. MDNI, fem! reader, academic rivals to lovers, student president! reader, unprotected sex, banter about physics, cunnilingus, oral sex (male + female), 7 minutes in heaven, college! AU, 69, Satoru is a tease down bad for you (and has a big dick), overstimulation, pet names (sweetheart, hardass), swearing.

Word count. 10.2k

A/N. I really don’t like physics. Art by @_3aem on X.

Life truly has an awful sense of humor - almost as bad as Gojo’s, which you discovered on the first day of Advanced Quantum Physics. 

The air charged with nervous energy and the scent of freshly printed syllabi, you quickly snag a seat right at the front row of Professor Yaga’s class. 

Ah, you’ll never forget how peaceful those few seconds to yourself after introductions were - before the devil incarnate dramatically swung open those lecture hall doors and plopped himself down right next to you. Late. 

“Any closer to Yaga and you’d be fucking his wife, y’know.” a voice hums from beside you, shattering your daydreams of passing this class with flying colors and riding a wave of glory into becoming a Nobel prize-winning physicist. 

With a slight scowl, you turn your attention to the source of disturbance - only to meet eyes with (self-proclaimed) campus sweetheart, Satoru Gojo, leaning on his chair with an air of nonchalance. At your silence, he repeats, “I said any closer-”

“I heard what you said.” you snap, irritation flaring at the amused twinkle in his blue eyes and the mirthful grin that spreads across his lips at your reaction. “Doesn’t erase the fact that you’re sitting here too.” you raise a brow.

“Oh me? That’s because I’m already fucking his wife, sweetheart.” he deadpans with a blank expression. 

What? The tense silence that follows is deafening - for the first time ever in your life, you were shocked into speechlessness. 

A beat passes. One. Two. Before Gojo bursts into hysterics, clutching his stomach. “You- you shoulda seen the look on your face- HAHAHA-” he gets out between uncontrollable laughs. Face burning, you train your eyes forward and will yourself to not glance at the 6’3 mess cackling beside you.

Ugh. Deep breaths. Deep breaths. Just think happy thoughts - kittens, quantum mechanics, being valedictorian. Desperately attempting to block out the giggling thorn at your side, you recoil at Professor Yaga’s extremely disapproving look in your direction. 

Panicking, and dreams of being his ace student slowly flushing down the drain, you quickly flip through your notes, attempting to catch up to where the lecture had now started. 

“Looks like we’re in trouble, partner~” Gojo’s dramatic stage-whisper catches the attention of students around you, them chuckling at your expense. 

“Hey, you’re the student president, right? Hey~ Heyyy prez~” As Professor Yaga continues his spiel about the syllabus, you continue to very obviously ignore the incessant comments that spill out of Gojo’s lips, to stifled laughs from his fast-forming entourage. 

The harder you tried to focus on Professor Yaga’s words, the louder and more absurd Gojo’s comments became - as if he’d made it his personal mission to enrage you. A sense of impending doom looming over you, you glare at him with a look that could’ve melted steel, hissing out, “Do you ever in your life shut the fuck up?”

Eyes widening in mock innocence, he grins “Oh~ I didn't know our student prez could get so feisty. Maybe I should take notes instead of doodling hearts around your name in my notebook.”

Ears ringing in embarrassment and frustration, and mind a whirlwind of how bad it would really be if you killed Gojo right here, you almost miss Professor Yaga’s question, “Now, would anyone here be able to discuss the interpretations in the debate between the Copenhagen interpretation and the Pilot-Wave theory?”

Teetering on the edge of your seat, you raise your hand, scrambling to salvage whatever is left of your academic reputation. You and- Gojo?

You start at the call of your name from Professor Yaga, “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.”

Gojo basically falls out of his seat in eagerness to answer after you.

“Ah, yes, Mr. Gojo.” 

You internally groan, ready for whatever bullshit was about to come out of his mouth. 

With a deep breath, “Not to be the devil’s advocate but the Pilot-Wave theory makes way more sense practically.”

Professor Yaga raises an intrigued eyebrow at Gojo’s statement, the class collectively holds a breath - as if awaiting the impending academic battlefield.

Gojo, with a cocky grin, plows on, “Think about it. The Pilot-Wave theory suggests that particles have definite positions and paths, unlike the uncertainty principle of the Copenhagen Interpretation. It's like predicting where a ball will land after you throw it, rather than saying it could be anywhere until you look."

Oh? He wasn’t a complete idiot?

Yet, you roll your eyes, “But the Pilot-Wave theory is too fanciful, it brings in too many hidden variables that have their own set of problems. It goes against the measurements and principles of locality!”

Unbothered by the challenge, Gojo leans back further in his chair, “What’s a couple complications? It’s a lot clearer on a microscopic level, none of that weird uncertainty of the Copenhagen Interpretation.”

Irritation running through your veins, you scoff at his condescending tone, “It might seem intuitive, but experiments and observations support the probabilistic nature of quantum mechanics.” You’re almost out of your chair at this point, an accusing finger pointed at Gojo. “Despite its weirdness, the Copenhagen Interpretation has proven successful in predicting outcomes.” 

“Oh yeah? And it’s also only used by hardasses that just want to shut up and calculate, sweetheart.”

“Big talk for a little bi-” 

“OKAY STUDENTS, that’s enough for now. Let’s put a pin in this discussion and move on with the topic.” Professor Yaga, who had been watching the debate with amusement, promptly ends it once you two begin to get overly heated. 

The rest of the class, on the edge of their seats and probably hoping for some fists swinging between the academic titans, now sit back in disappointment at the fight cut off early. 

You sit back in indignation, fuming at how Gojo had gotten you so worked up. And he was wrong too! 

The lecture continues as if you two were never two curse words away from each other’s throats. 

But, in the midst of it all, your glare meets blue, sparkling with amusement - a jolt of electricity runs through your body at the glint of recognition of the other’s brilliance. An unspoken yet undeniable competition.

You’ve avoided Gojo like the plague for the past few months since then - which isn’t doing much when said plague follows you around everywhere with incessant calls of “Hey, hardass prez~”. The only time you seek him out being to gloatingly show off the large, red “100” on your tests - to which, unfortunately, he does the same. 

It’s stupid. It’s childish. Honestly, sometimes you think he just tries to get under your skin for the hell of it.

But you don’t have the time to think too deeply into that.

Just like you don’t have time for this frat party. 

Music and alcohol thrumming through your veins, it’s always the same thing. You’d rather be holed up getting ahead of your physics textbook than be here. Yet, you owed a favor to your friend Haibara - and he’d been bugging you to come to this party for weeks now. 

You’ll just stay another hour then leave, you sigh.

Zoning out as Haibara plays an overly-intense game of beer pong, you’re startled by an arm around your shoulder. “Well, well, well, if it isn’t our lil’ prez looking like she’d rather peel paint than be here.” The expensive cologne hits you before the realization of who this was. “Drooling over the jocks? I recommend the STEM majors, sweetheart, jocks aren’t that great in bed.”

Quickly shrugging off his arm, you scowl, “Not like STEM majors are any better. And unlike some people, I have goals beyond being the life of the party.”

Decked out in slacks and a slightly too-unbuttoned shirt, Gojo chuckles, “Yeah, like what? Banishing fun?” Cerulean eyes gleaming with mischief, “You gotta let loose for once, sweetheart. Not everything in life is about academics and accolades.”

You scoff, rolling your eyes “Well not like I-” but whatever snarky retort gets caught in your throat as Gojo seizes your hand, effortlessly pulling you onto the dance floor. 

Caught off guard, you can do nothing more than sputter in surprise as he leans down to murmur in your ear, above the bass reverberating the walls, “C’mon hardass, sometimes in life, you just gotta- dance!” 

Gojo spins you into a dramatic dip, his silver chain brushing your face and his hand on your back burning into your skin.

Your cheeks burn in embarrassment - yeah, embarrassment - as the people around you cheer in amusement at the science department’s biggest rivals navigating the dance floor with surprising chemistry.

This was ridiculous. And yet, music ringing in your ears, you almost crack a smile. Almost. That is until your eye catches Haibara’s surprised ones from the side of the dance floor. Wait - here you were dancing with Gojo. 

Gojo pain-in-your-ass Satoru.

Immediately pushing him off with a hand to his chest, you don’t listen to whatever spills out of his mouth as you make your way to Haibara, disappearing with him into the crowd.  

“Hey, hey you okay? Wasn’t that the guy you were manifesting would step on Lego with his bare foot?” Haibara’s concerned voice speaks up from wherever you were dragging him through this sprawling frat house. 

“Ugh, yeah. Sorry about that, I don’t even- Anyway, how did the beer pong go?” you snap out of your reverie. What happened there? You were almost…enjoying yourself with Gojo Satoru of all people. 

Listening to Haibara brag about his dominating beer pong win thankfully took your mind off of your little endeavor with Gojo. 

“And then Yuji totally-”

“AH, THERE YOU ARE! Perfect, come join we’re two people short!” your kinda-friend Shoko’s drunken drawl breaks through the conversation. You can barely get a word out as she forcefully drags you two into a dimly lit room against your protests. 

The atmosphere heavy with beer and laughter, she plops you two down onto the floor in a neat circle of people before taking her seat beside you. “GREAT! Now we’ve got everyone, we can finally start.”

With a mischievous grin, Shoko declares, “Alrighty, folks! Time for the ol’ classic - we’re playing 7 minutes in heaven!” pulling out an old-fashioned, tattered hat from behind her back, to a collective mix of groans and cheers from the circle. 

“Where did you even find that ratty old thing, Shoko?” a sharply handsome man - Geto, you think - chuckles from his seat opposite you. And beside him- your heart stops. Gojo.

A smirk curling his lips and twinkling blue eyes locked on you. 

As if on instinct, you move to get up - only to be brought back down by a hand on your wrist. “Nuh-uh, no one’s escaping, c’mon it’ll be fun.” Shoko smirks, beginning to hand out pieces of paper to write down your names.

Apprehension pooling in your stomach, you share a glance with Haibara, who was honestly just happy to be here. Reluctantly, you scrawl down your name, tension building as it drops into the abyss of the hat.

“As our first attempted escapee, I think the prez should go first.” that agitating voice you knew too well speaks up. If looks could kill, Gojo would be six feet under and you’d be dancing all over his grave with a textbook on the Copenhagen Interaction. 

To agreeing laughter - and your impending doom - the hat is promptly placed in front of you. God, you knew you should’ve stayed home. With a shaky hand, you delve in, grasping onto a slightly crumpled piece of paper.

Not Gojo. Please not Gojo. Literally anyone but Gojo- 

Turning it over.

Satoru Gojo.

You jolt in surprise, rereading the hasty handwriting over and over - as if willing it to change. This must be some kind of sick joke. Eyes meeting Gojo’s, a flash of surprises passes his face before a self-satisfied grin takes over. He looked way too fucking pleased with himself.

“No fucking way.” Shoko mutters as it dawns on the group just who you were paired up with. Cheers and wolf-whistles erupt, filling the room as Satoru stands up extending a hand theatrically towards you. “If her highness the student prez would do me the utmost pleasure of joining me.”

You scoff, jeez it would be a surprise if you two didn’t kill each other in there. “Unless she’s…intimidated?” he bats his long lashes at you mockingly.

Intimidated? Of who? Swatting away Gojo’s hand, you stand up. “Intimidated? Don’t make me laugh.” 

He leans down, retorting, “I’ve tried but you don’t seem to know how.”. The room holds their breath, attention squarely on the two of you.

A beat of silence passes as you glare at him. You really could smack his annoyingly pretty face right now, but you shouldn’t - too many witnesses. 

“Now now, you two. Save it for the closet.” 

Ever the mediator, Geto ushers you two in the direction of the - very cramped - closet tucked into a corner of the room. 

Before you know it, the creak of the heavy wooden door rings in your ears as the door closes behind you. The loud click of a lock resonates, plunging you two into darkness. 

The muffled sounds of the party seem miles away as you try to focus on your breathing - trying not to let your mind drift to Gojo. You could feel the heat of his body, the ghost of his presence less than a foot away from you.

“So…” you flinch as Gojo’s voice cuts through the deafening silence. “You still alive and breathing after being trapped in a tiny closet with me?”

You huff, desperately wanting to break out of this closet, “Yes, but you probably won’t be if you don’t stay on your side.”

“This closet is barely a closet, there’s no ‘side’, sweetheart. And that’s my leg you’re resting on.”

You immediately scramble to move away from the warmth of Gojo’s leg that you’d been subconsciously leaning yours on. In the chaos, you probably did a bit more damage than solving. “Ah! Wait- watch the crown jewels, hardass.” 

You distance yourself as much as possible in the small space, knee burning where it had brushed up against Gojo’s that.

God, you were making a fool of yourself.

“As much as I like forceful women, you better take me out on a date first, sweetheart.” As your eyes adjusted to the dim lighting filtering in through the slight crack of the door, you could make out that signature playful grin. 

Your irritation simmers beneath the surface. Gojo always knew how to get under your skin. 

“Don’t you worry your empty lil’ head, I wouldn’t fuck you even if I was paid.” you bite back.

“Oh yeah?” Gojo leans in slightly, his voice low and teasing. “You sure about that, prez? I’ve been told that I’m irresistible.”

You raise a brow, unimpressed. “Yeah, irresistibly hard to not smack.” 

“I always did like ‘em feisty. Makes our little debates all the more interesting.”

“Our debates would be a lot more interesting if you learned to keep that big mouth shut.”

“Oh? C’mon, prez, you love this ‘big mouth’. And you love the challenge. I see the way you look for me every time you answer one of Yaga’s questions, y’know.” Gojo murmurs, gaze piercing into yours.

He leans in closer - now definitely not on his side of the closet. “If I didn’t know any better, I’d call it chemistry. Admit it and I might consider not calling you ‘hardass’ for a whole week.”

“What- That’s just because- I’d rather be called ‘hardass’ for a lifetime than admit to having any chemistry with you. I can’t even tolerate you for seven minutes here.” you sputter at both his proximity and his (absurd) accusations.

“As the student prez, isn’t your entire job to tolerate everyone? You’re a walking contradiction, sweetheart.”

“I am not. You have no effect on me.” you protest, standing firm. In the heat of your argument, you and Gojo have drawn closer to each other. His breath now fanning your face as he hums, voice a seductive tease, “I do, admit it. There’s a part of you that likes our chemistry.”

A defiant spark ignites in your eyes, “I’ll admit no such thing.”

“Then…hit me like I know you want to if you don’t want this.” he whispers, voice breathless. He closes the distance.

Gojo’s lips meet yours. 

Soft, they were so soft. 

Your heartbeat thundering in surprise, a hand raising to - to what? Smack him away? Eyes fluttering closed, your hand fists his shirt, the other subconsciously finding its way to his cloudy locks. Tugging. Kissing him back. 

Satoru kisses you like he’ll never be able to again. Because, he knows - he probably won’t.

Lips searing against yours, his eyes roll to the back of his head at your taste. Sweet - so sweet - just like candy, with a hint of Baileys and everything that he’ll never be able to have. 

A strangled groan leaves his throat when you bite down on his lips. Tugging with your teeth. Shit, fuck him and his bigass ego, he wanted to be the one showing off his irresistibility but really it’s the other way around. 

Mouth opening to let you in, he drinks in your gasps as he intertwines his tongue with yours. Large hands on your face pulling you impossibly closer to him in this godforsaken closet. It was dizzying - almost as if it hurt to part, drawn by that familiar magnetism that always seems to hang around you.

Lost in the heat of the moment, Satoru’s hands wander the expanse of your body. Groping and squeezing every curve and dip - he doesn’t have enough time. He probably never will.

A hand rests firmly on your hips. Awaiting. Breaking away - just a fraction - he breathes out urgently into your lips, “I need to taste you. Let me taste you. Please.”

“Desperate, huh?”

Your gaze pierces through him, it always does. Immediately after your disoriented nod, he presses a trail of hot, open-mouthed kisses along your neck. God, he could do this forever.

You shudder as he hastily bunches your tight dress at your hips, sending blood rushing straight to his cock. Shit, this was not how he expected these 7 minutes to go.

Hurriedly falling to his knees, the pain doesn’t even register when he comes face-to-face with your clothed cunt. Panties already so wet - just for him. Cock twitching carnally, he needed to taste you now. 

Tongue flattening across your swollen folds through your underwear, just a slight taste of your wet pussy and Satoru already thinks he might pass out. Ah, so good - of course you taste heavenly.

“Ah! Gojo- more.”

Pulling away, he feels drunk off the whimper of disappointment that escapes your mouth. “Call me Satoru.” he hums, fingers deftly sliding your soaked panties down your legs. His hot breath fanning your entrance has you clenching your thighs together, desperate for any friction.

Mouth watering at this, Satoru curses the darkness inside the closet - can’t even admire your pretty pussy right. You flinch as his face meets your cunt. Shit, this was better than he’d ever imagined on those lonely nights pathetically fucking his fist.

He breathes you in so sinfully, tongue sliding teasingly between your folds in a leisurely rhythm that almost has him forgetting however many minutes you two have left. Frankly, he couldn’t give less of a fuck about it either. Sinful squelches fill the confined space, along with your quiet moans of his name. 

“Hngh- S-Satoru. Feel s’good. Faster.” 

Ah, it’s really music to his ears. Your voice plays on repeat in his mind. He doesn’t even realize the call from outside until you look down at him, eyes dazed and kiss-bitten lips moving to panickedly mutter, “Satoru, we only have three more minutes.”

Ah, guess he’ll have to take his time in his dreams. 

“I only need two.” Satoru purrs, lips ghosting your wet core, voice sending goosebumps down your spine - all the way down to your dripping cunt. 

“W-well, stop hngh- running your mouth then.” you retort.

Satoru’s smirk against your plush folds is the last thing you see before he dives nose-deep in your pussy. He doesn’t waste time, tongue dipping in and out of your hole at an unforgiving pace. In and out in and out in and-

“Hah- yes! Satoru jus’ like that!” you hiss out, desperately trying to keep the moans ripping from your throat to a minimum, in fear of the others outside hearing. 

Noticing, Satoru snakes a hand up to your mouth - bullying his ringed-fingers in through your swollen lips. His index caresses your tongue, speeding up his movements on your pretty pussy as you gag around him. Moans catch in your throat as you struggle to accommodate him, the pleasure of being stretched from two ends too much. 

Satoru only has to take one look - tears clinging to your lashes and drool trickling down the corner of your mouth as you suck on his fingers - before he thinks he might just cum in his pants. Fuck, it was so lewd. 

You tighten your grasp on his hair, sure that your knees would give out if it wasn’t for the bruising grip he had on your hips, keeping you firmly on his mouth. Unable to run away. 

Shit, for someone so tight-laced, you were so messy on his mouth. He moans as your slick pools in his mouth, dripping down the corners of his lips. The  tap! tap! tap! of it hitting the hardwood floor rings deafeningly in his ears.

Ah, so this is why they call it 7 minutes in heaven. Satoru thinks he wouldn’t mind dying if it was in between your legs being suffocated by your cunt. 

Your entrance clamps down desperately on his tongue, forcing him to bully it into your snug pussy, fucking you unrelentingly. His nose rubbing against your swollen clit over and over. 

At this point, Satoru doesn’t know whether the pulse he feels is that of his heartbeat or your cunt, throbbing and achingly needy for his mouth. His nose stimulates your clit just right, sending shockwaves through your body that have you bucking into him for more.

Voice slightly muffled by his fingers, “Fuck- Satoru, keep going. Hngh- I’m gonna cum!” 

The way your walls desperately try to fuck his tongue has his cock straining so painfully against his trousers. Satoru increases his abuse on your cunt mercilessly, the harsh pace making you squeal and buck into his face. Your juices are now all over his mouth, gushing around his tongue. In and out in and out in and out-

“Satoru!”

You cum hard - all over Satoru’s pretty face.

Now, Satoru loves when you run your mouth and infuriate him, but he might just love it even more when you’re falling apart and speechless under his touch. 

Riding out your high on his features, you can feel yourself quivering around his tongue as he laps up your juices as if it were a delicacy. Deep moans leaving his mouth and vibrating across your soaked cunt, making you jolt at the overstimulation.

Pulling back, Satoru admires your unfocused eyes and bruised lips. “For someone that so fucking despises me, your slutty pussy sure is sucking me in so desperately.” he murmurs, slightly out of breath after what just transpired. 

“Sh-shut up.”

Ah, if only he got to see this view more often. 

You can’t help but feel the same way. Seeing Satoru fucked out, vibrant eyes half-lidded and blown out, your slick prettily glossing all over his mouth and nose. A small voice in the back of your mind wishes he was more like this and not whatever he is when he’s getting on your nerves.

“ONE MORE MINUTE! Finish up whatever devil’s tango or death match y’all are having in there!”

Those troublesome thoughts are pushed out of your mind as soon as you hear Shoko call from outside.

The bubble is broken. Jumping apart as far as possible in the cramped closet, you press yourself into the closet wall as you two wordlessly rush to make yourselves slightly more presentable. The air, once charged with overflowing tension and sex, now so strained.

Bending down to feel for the panties that Satoru- no, Gojo had thrown god-knows-where, your hands graze his - still slightly wet with your spit. Snatching your hands back as if it burned, you make out Gojo’s figure pocketing something.

…

Your panties??

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” you hiss, face burning at both his actions and the idea of going outside without panties.

“Just think of it as repayment for the fun.” he hums, mirth spilling into his tone. And before you could snap at his antics, Shoko is ripping the door open and looking around the closet for what you can only assume to be missing body parts and blood.

“Aw, man. And here I was thinking Satoru would be six feet under by now.” she groans, walking off disappointedly - for which you were eternally grateful otherwise she’d have seen the few suspicious stains on the floor.

“Remember, you owe me twenty, Shoko.” Geto speaks up from the circle. Were they…betting on whether you and Gojo would kill each other in there?

Finally stepping out of that godforsaken closet, you catch the smirks and raised eyebrows from some of the people from the group.

Meeting Gojo’s eye, a smirk curls around his swollen lip as he swipes a thumb across it. Agonizingly slow. Teasing. 

Your cheeks flare, something pooling in your stomach. Ugh, this is why you hate frat parties.

“You alright, man? You look…flushed?” you hear Geto question, pointedly staring at Satoru’s slightly disheveled look.

It was all getting too much - the alcohol in the air, the thumping of the overplayed pop music, and him. You felt so lightheaded. Ripping your gaze from Gojo’s you leave without so much as a goodbye to him, only stopping for a reassuring nod at Haibara. You make a beeline for the exit, dashing out of there and down the winding staircase as fast as you could. 

Focused on navigating the packed party, you almost don’t register Gojo rushing after you. Ignoring whatever words were tumbling out of Gojo’s mouth, you silently thank the sorority that had just pulled up - clinging onto him in greeting, making it impossible to follow after you. 

The cool night air washes over you as you finally step outside. You sigh in relief as you leave the chaotic sounds of the party - and him - behind. 

Impatiently waiting for your friend on the way to pick you up, only two thoughts echo in your mind.

He actually only needed two minutes.

What the fuck?

Meanwhile, back in that heady room, Shoko nudges Suguru, the latter still watching in amusement where Satoru had run after you in the door. “Hm?” he asks, absent-mindedly.

“Why do most of these papers have Satoru’s name?”

---

You pass through the next morning in a daze. The hardest part was probably trying to get dressed without making eye contact with the purple finger marks on your hips that Sato- Gojo had left to remember him by.

You still can’t believe that happened. 

It’s alright, it was just a mistake in the heat of the moment - you just have to forget it ever happened, right? But that’s easier said than done when your last class of the day is Advanced Quantum Physics.

Cursing your timetable, you step through the crowded campus. You pull your sweater tighter around yourself, the fabric doing nothing to stop your skin searing where Gojo’s lips had been just last night.

Alright, you just had to get through this one class today. There’s a lot of people in Professor Yaga’s class - it’s not like you’ll necessarily see that bane of your existence-

“Yooo prez, fate just seems to bring us together hmm?” 

Gojo almost topples out of his chair, waving in your direction. As your eyes sweep across the room, you can feel your heart sinking. Shit, you really feel like you’re being Punk’d right now. 

Cursing whoever was up there for this cruel joke, you make your way to the desk beside Satoru’s - the only empty one. 

Slumping down onto the chair with a frustrated huff, you sink into yourself - eyes trained firmly forward and ignoring the playful grin in your peripheral vision.

To your surprise, Gojo doesn’t say a word throughout the lecture. Not a single comment about fucking any professor’s wife - or your cunt. Huh, did last night cause some type of qi deviation or something?

As Professor Yaga drones on about quantum entanglement, you find the words going in one ear and out the other, too focused on wondering what Gojo’s game was.

It’s only towards the end of the lecture, at the introduction of some new assignment that you find yourself finally letting your guard down. Okay, see, it wasn’t too bad. Now time to go back to your apartment and study whatever quantum entanglement was for the next five hours.

“Ah- And remember, the midterm assignment pairings are posted on Canvas.” 

What was that?

God, you hated working with other people. It was much more efficient for you to stay in and finish this paper in one sitting.

“So, partner~ My place or yours?”

What?

The bell rings, its metallic chime resonating in your mind almost as loud as Gojo’s words. Signaling the end of class - and probably the end of your sanity. 

You wish the ground would swallow you up at this very moment. These days have really not been your days.

---

“Literally what do you bring to the table?”

“Comedic relief and my undeniably good looks.”

“...”

“...and also the case study and background information.”

The air at the stuffy café just off-campus was a mixture of freshly ground coffee and hushed conversations - of course, occasionally disrupted by the chaotic debates that erupted from your little booth.

Not too long ago, as everyone moved to file out of the classroom, you were frozen, glaring at your open laptop so intensely you half-expected it to combust - scrutinizing the neat arrangement of Gojo’s name next to your own over a million times.  

Finally sighing in defeat, you nodded in surrender at Gojo - who was whooping in victory. But, you were still adamant on meeting somewhere in public. The last time you two were left alone ended up…interesting. 

“Then you do that and I’ll take care of the rest of the theoretical analysis and evaluation. Okay, sounds good, Gojo.” you deadpan, rubbing the sides of your forehead in frustration. 

“Ouch, no Satoru?”

Ignoring his comment, you promptly slam your laptop closed, gathering your things with a determined sigh. Ready to escape the stifling atmosphere of the cafe. “So you do that and put it on the doc, and I’ll do the same with my parts. See ya.”

That’s when you feel a large hand covering yours - the same one from- “Hey there now, hardass, stay a little longer - gotta make sure you don’t slander quantum entanglement in our essay the same way you do with the Pilot-Wave theory.” Gojo interrupts your intrusive train of thought. 

“What? Unlike you, I don’t slander any scientific theories. Although, I do think the idea of entangled particles jumping around like you do is hardly the hallmark of a stable scientific theory.” you retort, face burning but setting down your bag nonetheless.

Resting his face on his hands, he grins at you. “Oh yeah? I think stability is overrated, prez. Quantum entanglement challenges you because it’s a realm where your precious stability crumbles in the face of non-local correlations.”

God, was he glad he begged on his knees to Yaga to pair you two together. He was having way too much fun with this. 

“Just because particles can communicate faster than you can comprehend doesn't mean we should abandon reason.” you raise a brow. 

“Well, I think you should just embrace the uncertainty, sweetheart. Life is a game of chance, just like quantum entanglement.”

“Oh, really?” you drone out, sarcastically. 

“Yeah, think about it. For instance, I never thought I’d still be alive and breathing after last night. But here I am.” at your stunned silence, he continues. “I for sure thought you’d have the coffin ready as soon as I kissed y-”

You panickedly place your hands over his mouth to shut him up, those blue eyes twinkle in amusement. “When I said you had a big mouth I really wasn’t lying, huh.” 

Slowly removing your hands once it seemed like Gojo wouldn’t spill your endeavors in this family-friendly cafe, you sigh, “Okay- We’ll get some shit done today, alright. But this is the last time I’m meeting with you for this.”

“Mhm~ You got it, prez.”

It was not the last time you met with Gojo for this. 

Nor was it the second-last.

Or the third-last. 

Each and every time you two worked together on the assignment, you’d spend more time bickering about anything ranging from what you’d learned in Professor Yaga’s class that day to whether the old lady who frequented the café was a part of the mafia. 

“I’m telling you, she handles those knitting needles like they’re a weapon.”

“Mhm and she sips her Earl Grey like she’s plotting espionage. Now, get to work before I use my teaspoon as a weapon.”

“I’d rather investigate her than this damn Qiskit simulation.”

“Sure, Gojo. I’ll add her to our list of groundbreaking research projects.”

“Don’t come crying to me when I rub it in your face once we see her on the news as a mafia queenpin, prez.”

You’re pretty sure the café employees have a love-hate relationship with you and Gojo - too lively to be one of their favorite regulars, but arguments too amusing to kick you two out. 

And as for your relationship with Gojo…well. It’s not as if you can’t go 7 minutes without being somewhat civil, and yet that’s exactly the issue, isn’t it?

After what had happened that night, it feels as if there’s something charging the air whenever you two are together.

You chalk it up to just lingering tension, but that still doesn’t explain the way Gojo’s eyes hold a warm twinkle whenever he looks at you - gaze a little too warm than you’d expect a rival to have. But it’s fine, you just have to ace this assignment and then this strange dynamic can go back to normal.

It’s only towards the end of your assignment that you realize how wrong you really were.

---

Out of breath and darting across campus towards where you knew Gojo was waiting, you half-wish you joined the track team instead of the student government. Damn student reps, can’t keep proper archives.

As much as you got a kick out of getting on Gojo’s nerves, you hated to keep anyone waiting.

“Ah! Prez! Was heartbroken thinking you’d stood me up, y’know?” Satoru calls once he spots you bolting towards him on that dimly-lit pathway. Wow, maybe you should’ve joined the track team.

You trip. Ah, maybe not.

Feet automatically hastening your way, he catches you. Well, more like you fall into his arms.

“Just in time, huh?” he chuckles, thankful for the sun dipping below the horizon - otherwise you’d surely have caught the rosy flush tinting his cheeks. Arms wrapped around your waist and supporting your waist, Satoru almost coos at the surprised look gracing your face. You always did something to his heart.

Hastily distancing himself from you once you stand on your own, he rambles - anything to drown out the banging of his heart against his chest. “So, I’m assuming you were out there doing all your president-ly duties?” 

“Ah! Yes, I’m so sorry, the meeting ran overtime and-” 

Listening to you rant, Satoru thinks that he wouldn’t want to be anywhere but here - bickering with you. He’s only snapped out his reverie at your disappointed groan. Oh, what was this? He didn’t even realize his feet had carried him to the little café already. 

Ripping his eyes from you, he turns to what moping at. A sign with red writing is plastered over the very locked café entrance - Sorry! Staff training today, hope to see you tomorrow!

“Seems like everyone’s got meetings today.” he hears you grumble. Satoru knows it isn’t right, but his heart leaps slightly at the chance to get to know you outside of that familiar cafe.

You, meanwhile, felt tension - and something else - pooling in your stomach. Shit, if the sanctuary of your café is no longer available…

“Well, we could just go home and finish off the paper by ourselves. It’s only the last bit anyway.” you suggest, voice slightly shaky at the idea and anticipation of actually being alone with Gojo after so long. 

“But Suguru’s such a loud snorer, I’d never get any work done.” Gojo whines. Well, there goes that plan.

“The library?”

“I hear it’s haunted this time of year.” he answers right away. 

“Ghosts are seasonal?” you ask absent-mindedly, too focused on weighing between the need to finish this assignment today and the uncertainty of what would happen between you and Gojo.

A tense silence fills the slowly darkening street as you go through all your options. Finally, watching the long shadows casted now, you sigh. “Fine. We’ll go to my place.” you mutter out. 

“Would you get angry if I celebrated right now?”

“Maybe.”

The walk to your apartment is bathed in the soft orange glow of the setting sun. It was almost peaceful - if it weren’t for Gojo’s excited chattering about god-knows-what. 

Your mind was running a million miles a minute. Was something like last time going to happen? Were you a lecher for expecting it? Why didn’t you mind the thought as much as you think you should?

You risk a glance at Satoru, who was in the middle of a passionate speech about how ketchup was a valid condiment on pasta. Soft sunlight paints his hair an amber hue, casting warm shadows that bring out his pretty features, eyes sparkling with passion and mischief. He was beautiful.

Wait. Beautiful?

“Hey isn’t this your apartment building or is walking past it a pre-entrance ritual?” 

Ah. Whoops.

You snap out of those ridiculous notions, gathering whatever dignity you have left to walk back to the apartment complex you’d left in the dust while wrapped up in your thoughts.

“Oooo, didn’t take you for much of a decorator, hardass.” Gojo comments, flitting about your cozy apartment to look at all the little knick-knacks and pictures 

“Did you really think I lived in some sterile lab?” you retort. Gojo’s almost-endearing curiosity amuses you enough to let go of the electricity thrumming through your body at having him so close. In your home. 

“Well, I expected more beakers and fewer fairy lights, sweetheart.”

You roll your eyes, pretending to be offended. “Believe it or not, Gojo, hardasses can have a sense of style, too.”

He continues his exploration, stopping in front of a photo on the wall. “Who’s this model?” he grins, pointing at a picture of you in stuffy formal attire at some conference.

You sigh, knowing exactly which photo he's referring to. “That, Gojo, is me at a conference presenting a groundbreaking research paper.”

“Groundbreaking, huh? Is that what they call it these days?” he hums, arching an eyebrow playfully. 

“Yes, and six feet under is what they’ll be calling you if you don’t get your ass here and finish this paper.”

“...yes, prez.”

Writing the conclusion and inserting citations is always the fun part. If you could write an essay on whatever you want, it would be only conclusions and citations, you think.

After a few hours of working on your paper, apparently Gojo does not feel the same way.

“Fuck Noodletools. All my homies hate Noodletools.”

“This is why you only have two friends, Gojo.”

“Hey! I’m a very likable person, y’know.” 

“...”

He sets his laptop down leaning closer to you over where he was seated opposite you on the coffee table, clearly bored of citations for the time being. “Also, aren’t we friends, sweetheart? Technically I have three.”

You raise a brow, this was the first time Satoru had ever addressed the strange dynamic you two had. “Are we?” you ask, genuinely. 

A deafening silence envelopes your living room. This was the first time you’d seen such a serious expression take over Gojo’s face as he answers, voice even, “I’m not sure.”

The atmosphere thickens with a charged tension, the weight of Gojo’s words lingering in the room. A spark flickers in his eyes. You feel like you could almost get whiplash from the contrast between the heated banter to where you two were now. Was it always so hot in this room?

You let out a strained laugh, attempting to diffuse the seriousness and go back to a trivial territory you were more familiar with. “I never thought the great Gojo Satoru would be uncertain about something.” Your eyes flicker unwillingly from his intense gaze to his worry-bitten lips.

The mischief returning to his gleaming eyes, he smirks “Uncertainty can be thrilling, don't you think, sweetheart?”

You don’t even know what to say to that - and you don’t have to. Because before you can respond, Gojo swiftly leans over the coffee table - catching your lips in a sudden, electrifying kiss. 

Time stands still. A shiver runs down your spine as you realize that you didn’t want to push him away. At all. In fact, you grab a fistful of his soft locks, pulling him impossibly deeper into the kiss. 

Pulling away mere millimeters, Gojo’s hot breath fanning your mouth as he whispers, “Told you the uncertainty is thrilling, sweetheart.”

“Shut up and kiss me.” you grumble, irritated because his lips ghosting yours was not enough.

Before you know it, Gojo has you pinned against the plush couch. His lips finding your, the kiss deepening as he yearns for that desperate connection - as if each breath depends on smothering you with dizzying kisses. 

The room seems to shrink, right now only filled with the heated exchange of breaths and the feeling of Satoru’s lips searing into yours. 

You think he tastes like caramel and uncertainty - yet, this time, you fall into the unknown with open arms. Wrapping your legs around his toned waist, your arms around his broad shoulders - bringing him to you so close you’d think the laws of physics were taking a coffee break.

It almost hurt. 

The intensity of the moment only growing, the atmosphere in your homey apartment crackles with a tension that you knew in the back of your mind had been building for so long - ever since that party.

Your heartbeat echoes in your ears. You knew this would happen.

And a part of you needed it to.

His fingers trace a path along your jawline, leaving a trail of heat - you shudder, craving for more. 

“Gojo, I want you.” you breathe out, words muffled by Satoru sucking sinfully on your lips. 

He pulls away slightly, delicate strings of saliva still connecting him to you. Every fiber of his being resisting to part.

“Don’t call me that.” he purrs out, the intensity of his half-lidded stare sending a jolt straight down to your heated core. “It’s Satoru when we’re fucking, remember?”

Looking into his sultry eyes, for the first time ever you decide to heed what Satoru says. “S-Satoru, please.” you whimper, hips bucking up to meet his own. You can feel the large outline of his achingly hard cock straining against those stupidly overpriced trousers, pussy quivering in anticipation. 

Now, there have been three times in his life that Satoru thinks he has died and gone to heaven. The first being when he discovered that the ramen joint by his dorm also had free Wi-Fi. Second, that first day in Advanced Quantum Physics when you snapped at him told him to shut the fuck up. 

And finally, right now, as he’s got you needy and squirming underneath him - such pretty gasps of his name leaving your kiss-bitten lips. 

God, navigating quantum physics is a walk in the park in comparison to what you put his heart through. 

“Hmm, never in my life thought I’d see his view, sweetheart.” he whispers lowly into your ear, delighting in the goosebumps that erupt along your alluring body. How did he get so lucky?

Hastily pulling down your shorts, his mouth waters at your wet panties. Another prize for him, hm? Throwing them along with your panties to god-knows-where, Satoru drinks in the sight of your bare pussy - a privilege that he didn’t get in that godforsaken closet. 

Ah, so ready and dripping for him already. Your slick glistens out of your heated entrance as you clench around nothing. “Aww, they’ve faded.” he whines, heart lurching at the lack of his marks from last time.

It’s alright, he can just make more.

Not one to waste time, with a bruising grip holding your hips steady, Satoru grinds his painfully hard cock into your needy cunt, savoring the pretty mewls that leave your mouth. The way your swollen pussy quivers against him makes him throw his head back, seeing stars already. 

Nipping along your neck, leaving marks he knows you’ll have to cover up tomorrow. “Sit on m’face,” he murmurs into your skin.

“W-what?”

Pressing wet, open-mouthed kisses along the valley of your breasts, Satoru breathes you in. Fuck, he prefers the smell of your skin to any scent in the world. “Sit- on- my- face.” he repeats, words punctuated with erotic kisses to your hardened nipples, tongue flicking them through the fabric of your clothes. 

“You’re gonna be the death of me, y’know?” you gasp. Yet, still shifting on that cramped couch. Why do you two always fuck in the most inconvenient places?

Satoru’s legs hang off the end of your couch as he lays on his back, you’d almost find the position funny - if it weren’t for you straddling his head. 

His hot breath on your wet cunt sends waves of electricity though your entire body as you hover over his mouth. Your needy pussy right above where his mouth is, hesitating. Your slick oozes slowly through your swollen folds - drip! drip! drip! onto his awaiting tongue, brows furrowing and eyes rolling to the back of his head at your sweet juices.

“Mhm, and I hope that you’ll be the death of me.” he hums, tongue savoring your taste.

It’s the last thing said before Satoru surges forward, plunging mouth-first into your heated cunt. 

Despite not being on a time crunch this time, Satoru doesn’t waste a moment teasing - he already has you splayed out and aching for him, what more could he want?

He bullies his tongue into your snug cunt, pushing past the first ring of muscle. You twitch around him, sweet moans spilling incessantly from your mouth. “Ah! Hngh- Satoru! Fuck s’good.”

Your sounds of pleasure going straight to his dick, he bucks into your hands. Ah, more. He needs your touch more. 

The feeling of your plush walls clamping down on him only spurs him on further, fucking you at a ruthless pace. One hand gropes across your body, resting a thumb on your clit that rubs tight circles, making you grind down further into his mouth. 

“Your pussy is so honest, sweetheart. She wants me so badly.” he murmurs, voice sending vibrations that make you let out a loud moan which he suspects your neighbors would be complaining about. 

You were so perfect for him, Satoru thinks he might go insane.

You were definitely going insane.

Satoru shows no mercy, his abuse on your dripping cunt only speeding up at every buck of your hips into his tongue. It felt so fucking good. 

Closing your eyes, his pressure on your core has you seeing spots behind your vision. You could feel the curl of his signature smirk against your folds as your pussy tries sucking him back in at every thrust. Too good to let him go. “Knew you loved this ‘big mouth’, hardass.” he murmurs. 

Shit, you can’t be the only one acting so needy like this.

“What’re you doing, sweetheart?” Satoru drawls, voice muffled by your cunt as he feels the breeze of his lower abdomen hitting the heady air of your living room.

“Payback.” is all you mutter out as you fumble his trousers down his long legs. Curse these gyms. Curse squats. Why did he have to be so perfectly sculpted? An Adonis in his true form. 

You can feel the saliva pooling in your mouth as his boxers come into view - rock-hard cock straining painfully against it A patch of pre-cum pools at his head - he wanted you just as badly as you wanted him. Hands shaky from the way Satoru’s incessant tongue was fucking into you, you shuffle his boxers down. 

Satoru’s painfully hard erection springs out, hitting his lower abs. Fuck- how the hell were you supposed to take him? Life was really unfortunate - water was wet, and Gojo Satoru has a huge dick.

“S-sweetheart, you don’t have to-” he murmurs against your swollen pussy. 

From all your times shutting up Gojo Satoru, this one might just be your favorite. 

His words catch desperately in his throat as you spit out a pool of saliva onto Satoru’s furiously flushed head. A low hiss leaving him as you teasingly lick his sensitive slit. 

Never one to back down from a challenge, Satoru attaches his lips with yours once more. He groans lowly into you, the stimulation making you yelp in surprise. 

“So, it’s like that, huh?” 

Satoru doesn’t have the time to ponder your words before you take in as much of his length as you can in one go. “Ah! Hah- Oh fuck, prez. Always knew you were a forceful woman.”

You moan at the slightly salty taste of his precum. Gagging around him, drool drips down the corner of your mouth as you try to take him in inch by fucking inch. It was so fucking messy.

Diving nose-deep in your cunt once again, Satoru continues the merciless pace of his tongue once more. Both your muffled moans fill the heated room, lost in the pleasure and the heat of the moment.

Shit, you knew by the way your walls clenched down on his tongue that you weren’t gonna last long. And judging by the urgent twitching of Satoru’s cock - he wasn’t going to either. 

He fucks up his throbbing erection into your mouth, your eyes watering as his tip hits the back of your throat. Ropes of spit and precum decorate your lips. Even the staunch part of you that never backs down for anyone cheers at being so used. It’s so fucking debauched.

Your hand moves down to massage his heavy balls, tugging and pulling at a rhythm that matches the rapid ministrations of his thumb on your swollen clit.

Mind spinning and pleasure dizzyingly overwhelming as you both lean closer and closer to your highs. With a final mewl around his thick cock, your juices are gushing all around Satoru’s mouth. 

Your mind blanks as you cum, the only things registering being the tingles of your oversensitive pussy as Satoru rides you through your high on his tongue and the taste of Satoru as he cums in hot spurts in your mouth. Salty, with a hint of sweet - the flavor making your pussy twitch.

Fucking his seed into you, your mouth milks his cock. His cum dribbling down the corner of your mouth, all thoughts of dirtying your couch go out your brain when you hear the fucked out whines at the back of Satoru’s throat.

Fuck a refractory period, you wanted to hear that more.

You remove yourself from him with a lewd pop! Cum flowing smoothly down your throat, you lock eyes with Satoru over your shoulder. His jaw drops, pupils blown lustfully as your tongue sticks out - showing the way you’ve swallowed every single drop of his seed.

“Now, Satoru. I need you to fuck me with yours cock just as you did with your tongue.” your words still strained from your orgasm.

Wordlessly, Satoru nods, eyes shining - still reeling from the sinful sight of your bruised lips glossy with his cum - his cum that you swallowed as if it was a delicacy.

Meanwhile you were thinking that you should fuck Satoru more if it meant you got him to shut up and be pretty more often. 

Slightly more clear-headed now, just as lustful. 

Your couch creaks in protest as you shift positions to face Satoru once more. He seizes your lips in a passionate kiss, mouth attacking yours with a desperation for your essence.

Your head spins as you taste yourselves on each other, words tumbling out of your mouth in the haze, “Satoru, bed- now.”

But when has he not challenged you?

“Mhm, anything you say, prez.” he whispers raspily against your lips, still-hard cock teasingly dragging along your swollen folds. 

“Satoru.”

“Fuck yes. Say m’name, sweetheart.” he groans out, throwing his head back against the armrest. Your slick pools all over Satoru’s thick head, dripping sensually down his length to where he gripped tightly at the base. 

Swollen lips dropping into a small “oh”, he slides a ringed hand up his member, spreading your juices. Cock twitching carnally at the way your pussy was leaking all over him, he grits out, “Need to feel you around my cock now, sweetheart.”

So he does.

Thick head pressing into your tight entrance, a low growl leaves his throat at how sinfully tight you were. Fuck, he could just about pass out right now.

“S’tight, sweetheart. So good.” he fucks up into you in shallow, uncontrollable movements of his hips - impatience quickly waning. You yelp at each thrust, walls burning with the stretch of Satoru’s thick head. 

You try to steady yourself as Satoru’s thrusts get deeper and deeper, nails digging harshly into his muscled shoulders. In the midst of it all you still manage to impatiently slur out, “I-if you’re gonna fuck me then hah- fuck me like you mean it, Satoru.”

Oh, that did it.

Your words make the last bit of sanity Satoru had left snap. 

In a swift movement, he sheaths his throbbing erection in your wet cunt completely. A gasp gets caught in his throat at the way your walls were clamping down on him in surprise. 

He looks up at you, eyes half-lidded and a dangerously predatory glint in them that sends shivers down your spine. “Fuck me like I mean it, huh? You’re quite bossy, y’know that, prez?”

Before you can retort - and probably dig your grave deeper - he stands up in one fluid motion, your legs around his waist and cock still buried deep in your snug pussy. You moan at the change in angle, his tip now kissing your cervix so deliciously painfully. Shit, you feel so full. 

Hands moving down to grope your ass firmly and support your weight, he grins lowly in your ear, “You’re lucky I love that part of you.”

The wall is cold as Satoru shoves your back against it. his body making the air leave your lungs as he presses into yours, ramming into you at a merciless pace. Your tight cunt clenches so tightly around him, as if to prevent him from leaving. 

Each thrust into your warm core has his eyes rolling to the back of his head, brows furrowing in ecstasy. His lips capture yours once again in a rough dance that matches the cadence of his hips.

You mewl against his mouth at the feeling of his heavy balls stinging your skin as they smack your ass. The power behind each harsh thrust has you bouncing against the wall, legs pulling tighter around his toned waist to bully his cock impossibly deeper in you. 

“Where- fuck! Where’s the bed?” he moans breathlessly against your lips, voice sounding as if each thrust of his pulsing cock into your plush walls sends him spiraling deeper into insanity.

“Down- down the hallway. Hngh- fuck, Satoru!” you not far behind.

Your mind is foggy, barely even registering as Satoru moves blindly towards your bedroom with powerful strides - not yet pulling out of you.

He doesn’t get very far before he’s got you sprawled over your bedroom floor, your carpet digging into you as his cock slams into your abused cunt with that feral pace he loves so much. Not even making it to the bed.

“Ah! Hah- Satoru, what happened to the bed?” you sputter out in-between uncontrollable moans. 

“Too far. Hngh- need you now.” he answers around your breasts, teasing and tweaking your sensitive nipples.

“Wh-who’s irresistible now?” you manage to smirk, relishing in the huff of laughter that escapes him. Even now, you always did manage to one-up him.

“Mhm, you’ve always been irresistible, sweetheart.” he mutters, moving to press a chaste kiss against your forehead, not sure whether the words were even meant for you to hear. 

And you know it’s just pussy-drunk talk, but right now you can’t help the way your cheeks heat up, heartbeat ringing in your ears. 

Not sure how to respond to that, you pull him closer to you, allowing him to bury his burning face in the crook of your neck. Maybe right now neither of you needed to speak, your bodies doing enough talking as Satoru continues his relentless cadence.

Your hips bucking up to meet his, you whimper in pleasure and overstimulation into the heady room as Satoru moves down a hand to draw rough, little circles over and over your throbbing clit. It was all too much. “S-Satoru.”

“Me too, my sweetheart. Me too.” is all he gasps out, teeth digging into your neck at the pleasure overwhelming his sensitive cock. Satoru’s tight balls twitch as they smack your ass, cock glistening with cum and slick. He sees stars behind his eyes - or maybe those were tears at the overstimulation. He really doesn’t know anymore. 

Head spinning and thoughts racing with only Satoru Satoru Satoru, you’re very much in the same state. 

“Satoru?” you whine out, tears clinging to your lashes.

“Yes, sweetheart?”

You pull him into an intense kiss, pussy clamping down on him desperately as his lips brand yours - it sends you both over the edge. 

Satoru thinks he sees heaven as he cums, and you were probably an angel. 

Hot ropes of his thick cum paint your walls white, cunt quivering around him as you both ride out your climaxes together. A creamy ring forms around his base as he fucks his seed into you desperately, marking you so obviously as his. All thoughts of Plan B run out of your mind at the overstimulated whimpers leaving Satoru’s ruby lips.

His dick twitches inside you as his unforgiving thrusts slow down to shallow grinds of his hips, nothing more than to keep his cum inside of you as your highs bate.

Body collapsing onto yours, careful to not crush you with his weight, Satoru pulls you closer to him. And despite everything that happened this evening, he thinks that this might be what makes his ears burn red the most. Your body so vulnerably connected with his own. Just the two of you in this quiet world.

The silence feels intimate and fragile. Brain still hazy from your orgasms, you don’t think you’ve ever quite looked at your bedroom ceiling from his angle. 

Strangely enough, Satoru’s warm weight on you feels comforting. Neither of you speak now. Nor do you speak when Satoru carries you to bed, searching through your clothes for a washcloth he can wipe you clean with. 

It’s only when he lingers at the foot of your bed - uncertain - that the silence is broken. “Get in, stupid.” you scoff, opening the covers invitingly.

Of course, an elated smile overtaking his face, Satoru jumps in your bed with enough force to send you both bouncing. It was childish. It was so ridiculous. It had you barking out a surprised laugh at his antics.

In your joy, you don’t even realize that Satoru has stopped moving - frozen, smile slipping off his face and staring at you with an unknown spark in his eyes. 

“What?” you question, feeling strangely self-conscious. 

White locks tousling as he shakes his head, he breathes, “It’s the first time I’ve made you laugh.” The words hang in the delicate atmosphere, tension so thick you think it could snap any moment.

You hide your face in your hands, palms clammy. “You- you make me sound like some sort of evil witch.” you stammer out, embarrassment pooling in your gut. The tension in the air dissipates, yet the intensity in Satoru’s gaze remains.

Satoru understands, smiling blindingly. He pulls your naked body to his, wrapping his arms tenderly around your waist as you both bury into the covers. “Well, more of a hardass than an evil witch.”

“Satoru?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“You still have to finish your citations.”

A/N. Can be read as a standalone BUT part 2 planned for next longfic Sunday!

Plagiarism not authorized.

[chillinglyadventurous]

Sneaking Around - Stanford Pines Part 2

Thanks @doggosnoodles12 for requesting a part 2!

Part 1 > Part 2 > Part 3 > Part 4

Tags: NSFW, MDNI!

You were stocking the gift shop shelves. Stan was counting the day’s earning at the cash register behind you when you heard the vending machine swing open. Ford was there with a smile on his face. ‘Bastard’ you thought ‘at least he got to finish.’

It must be so easy to be a man, a quick jerk and he’s done. No need for all the theatrics like women. You hated him for it sometimes, but the thought clouded your mind. You could picture it because you’d seen it before.

He was sitting in the lab. You had watched him so thoughtfully as he stroked himself to you. Your eyes were wide, lips parted ever so slightly as you watched his hand move up and down his length. His stare had been on you, relishing in your flushed cheeks as you sat so close to him, pulling you in for a hot kiss as he came over his hands.

You busied your hands by straighten the bobbleheads on the shelf in front of you. That memory made your hands shake. You couldn’t force the thought of the difference between when he touches himself versus when you do. He was so much more responsive when it was your hand sliding and twisting down his cock than his own. The grunts were a turn on all their own. The way he thrust his hips into you hand was enough to make you gasp.

Nothing, however, compared to how he responded to your mouth. Little whimpers would escape him. His hands would be tangled in your hair as he tried his very best not to push you further down, but it sure felt good when your choked on him, the contraction of your throat mimicking the throbs of your body, breathtaking.

“Busy day?” Ford asked as he crossed over to his brother.

Stan gave a grunt in response, “Would’ve made more money if you weren’t stealing my girl to look at that quantum destabilizer.” By his tone, you could tell Stan was trying not to get angry. He was doing his best to mend fences with his brother, “You better watch her with that thing. One wrong move and, boom, she’s in a lot of trouble.”

A bobble head clattered to the ground at his comment. Both of their gazes were on you, “Sorry.”

Ford gave a soft chuckle, “I watch her very closely. I wouldn’t want her to get hurt.”

Oh, he watched you. He loved watching you, studying how each flick of his tongue caused your face to contort in pleaser. He watched himself slip in and out of you with ease. He made you so wet. He watched when you became so desperate and needy when he tormented you, grinding yourself against his thigh when you could no longer hold yourself back. Yeah, he watched you.

Hurt. No. He’d never hurt you. He could be rough. His fingers often left six little bruises on each hip. You could recall a six fingered, hand-shaped bruise on your left breast a few weeks ago. But, he never hurt you. Always making sure you were alright. You had tried to get him to slap you once. He’d refused, “I couldn’t, ever hit that beautiful face.”

“Well, Shack’s closed, Stan,” you sighed. “Do you mind if I get back down there?

He shrugged, “Do whatever you want, [Y/N]. I’m taking the kids to Greasy’s for dinner.”

“When are you leaving?” Your question overlapped with Ford’s.

Stan gave you both a strange look. His eyebrows crinkled together even though the twins had bounded down the stairs. You gave Dipper and Mabel a smile after your gaze left Ford’s, “Now, I guess.”

You and Ford stood on opposite sides of the gift shop as you watched Stan and the kids leave. As the Stanmobile pulled away from the Shack and disappeared, you could already see Ford bounding to you out of the corner of your eye.

“Stop,” you whispered. You pointed toward the security camera across the room, the same one that was focused on you at that very moment. You didn’t want what you knew was about to happen to be caught on camera.

Ford’s feet stilled. His eyes were hungry. He didn’t want to wait. God, neither did you, but you kept your cool as you waltzed causally back into the house. You swayed your hips a little more than you normally would, tempting your lover to follow you.

Once you were in your bedroom, the door was slammed shut.You didn’t even have time to gasp before Ford was on you, before you were pressed flat against your duvet. Despite his desperation to shove himself into you immediately, afraid to waste a moment, his kiss was soft on your lips. His grip was crushing on your hips, but his kiss was sugary sweet.

“I’m sorry, my love,” he forced himself between your legs. “I’m sorry things are like this. You’re the one suffering.”

You carded your hands through his hair before pulling off his glasses. You moved to kiss him, but gasped as he bucked his clothed hard-on against your centre. You caught your breath, in love with that grin on his face, “You promised to make it up to me.”

“Oh,” he ghosted his lips over yours, “I’m about to.”

For sat back on his calves as he pulled your dress over your head, tossing it onto the floor. His eyes raked over you. Your panties were still missing, probably hidden in some desk drawer in the basement. He unclasped your bra expertly before tossing it away too.

You subconsciously licked your lips when he picked up your right leg. He pressed a kiss to your ankle, traveling up to your knee before picking up your left. He repeated himself there. You watched in awe. Your mind was already clouded. You wanted him to stop playing this game and to get shift a on when he started kissing and nipping at your wrists. His smile against your skin was loving and full of admiration. You just wanted him inside you.

“Ford,” you muttered as he started kissing across your clavicle, “They won’t be gone all night. We have an hour or two max.”

He withdrew his tongue from your navel, “[Y/N], I rarely get fifteen minutes with you.” He tongued your bellybutton again, hands spreading your thighs further. He kneaded that softness just below your ass, “Let me worship you. You deserve this.”

Finally, he touched you. His lips, chapped as they were, wrapped around your clit. He placed a kiss to it before circling with his tongue. The noise you made in response was undoubtedly undignified, a mix of a moan and whine.

Reflexively, you covered your mouth, but Ford was quick to take your wrist in his hand, “None of that. You don’t need to do that now.” He sucked you into his mouth as he inserted a finger. Your hips bucked against his chin when he curled it inside of you, “Let me hear you, please.”

His finger straightened as he withdrew, pushing in a second with a curl of his knuckles. He sighed when he finally heard you, a relaxed moan tumbling out of you as he repeated the movement again, his tongue flicking across your clit again.

“Atta girl,” he smiled against you.

You watched him as he continued. His nose was pressed firmly against your pelvis as his tongue continued its assault. His fingers pumped quickly. He watched your writhe, moans freely spilling past your lips. You chanted his name as you felt your muscles tighten, legs flexing.

You needed to grab onto something when you began to shake, hips rolling frantically against his mouth and hands. A wet squelch sounded with each thrust of his wrist. Finally, you found something to hold onto. Your nails scraped against your headboard. You couldn’t hold his gaze any longer as your orgasm hit you.

“Stanford!” You chanted over and over again as your rode his face. Your eyes closed because you couldn’t look into his anymore. His eyes were always too much when his face was between your thighs, “Oh my god! Ford!”

He continued to eat you through it until you finally came down, legs closing to halt his attempt at overstimulation. Now was not the time for games.

He wiped his mouth with the back of his hand when you reached for him, “You’re even more beautiful when you’re screaming my name.”

“That’s enough chitchat,” you whispered. You were already unzipping his pants, “Fuck me.”

His boots, jacket, turtleneck, and slacks were on the floor in an instant. You stared at him for a moment. The two of you had rarely ever had the time for him to get fully undressed. Often, you had only ever pulled his cock out of its confines just to get things going, pressed for time.

Suddenly, your order for him to fuck you was abandoned as you pushed him onto the mattress. Climbing atop him, you traced a deep scar across his shoulder with your fingertips. Your touch was gentle while you studied him, all of him.

His chest was broad and so were his shoulders. The muscles of his upper body were well defined. The slight pudge of his stomach was endearing. You smiled down at him, leaning over to place a kiss to his forehead, “You’re beautiful, Stanford. Do you know that?”

His right hand cupped your face as he pulled you into him. You melded together for a moment before he pulled away, “I am so in love with you.”

You bit your lip as you straightened your back, hips rising. You pressed the head of his cock against you warmth. You suck down onto him and the moan he gave was precious. You tried to memorize it before he gave you another with each roll of your hips, moving in tight up and down circles.

You were lost in him, eyes locked as you rode him. With each roll of your hips, you two groaned in tandem. With each upward thrust into you, you both sighed the other’s name. Not a single praise was stifled by a hand for fear of someone hearing. For once, it was just the two of you.

“You’re so tight,” Ford gasped when he felt the familiar flutter of your insides. One hand gripped your hip and the other rested on your lower belly. He wanted to feel how deep he was hitting you, watching the slight bulge of him inside you wasn’t enough, “Mhmm, such a good girl.”

Your body began to shake again, shivering as your relentless pace faltered. You were frozen as you began to milk him, unable to move as the intensity of waiting for this all day was just too much, so he took over. With his feet planted firmly against your mattress, he thrust up into you. With each bounce, you repeated how much you love him until your screamed his name again.

He rode you out. Just as he was about to flip you over, allowing him the ability to pull out, you stopped him, “No, please, cum inside of me. I want to feel it. Please, Ford, please.”

With your breathless words and the clenching of your cunt, he came. The soft pressure was heaven as he fucked you through his own orgasm, “Fuck!”

The room was hot and sticky when you collapsed onto his chest. Every muscle relaxed. Your body was numb, buzzing with the endorphin flowing through your veins. The two of you stayed that way for a while until he pulled out of you. You both gave a sigh, your cheeks blushing when you felt your own release and his gush out of you.

Now, you were laid in his arms. His hands played with the little hairs at the base of your skull. You could hear his heartbeat in his chest. Time had stopped moving, “I love you so much, Ford.”

Loud clatter coming from the other side of the house startled you both. Jumping from the bed, Ford scrambled to put his clothes back on and you did the same. You could hear the twins running down the hall.

When your door opened, you froze, “What the hell is going on?”

Ford barely had time to zip up his pants, his sweater still discarded on the floor, before Stan threw a punch. You’re screamed at him to stop as soon as your dress is back over your head. You tried to put yourself between them, but Ford pushed you away, afraid you’d get caught in the crossfire of punches.

“She’s like a daughter to me, you creep!” Stan shouted as Ford dodged another punch. Stan was quickly pinned to the ground by his twin brother, “I told you to stay away from her! You ruined my life. You’re not going to ruin hers too.”

Suddenly you realized what was happening. Your face fell and so did your voice, “Stanford, let him go.”

Ford glanced in your direction before doing as you said. You stood between them to keep them from hitting each other again, “Stan, what are you talking about?”

His ego was bruised. You knew this. So did Ford, “You’re my family and I’m not going to let this jerk take you away from me too.”

You hugged him tight. You didn’t have a dad growing up. Like Soos, yours was never around. Stan had taken that role when you started working at the Shack, always guiding you in the best way he could to be better than him. He wanted the world for you. When your mom died and you had no where else to go, he took you in out of the kindness of his heart.

“I love Ford. I’m sorry we kept this from you, but,” you took Ford’s hand in yours, “I love him.”

Stan’s eyebrows furrowed as he stared at you and his brother, “Do you love her, sixer?”

“More than anyone could possibly comprehend,” Ford murmured as he placed a kiss against your temple.

Stan was dumbfounded as he stared at the two of you. He couldn’t decide whether or not to be happy that you found love or to kill his twin.

[badkitty3000]

Powerless

This is based on a request I received for a Five x female reader that is just as brilliant as Five, but too shy to act on her feelings for him.

Summary: You have had your eye on Five since he first started at the university. Eventually you build up a friendship, but even though you pick up a few hints that maybe he wants something more, you just can't bring yourself to act on it. Luckily, Five has more than enough confidence for the both of you.

Five x Female Reader, 9.5k words, One-shot, reader request

Warnings: Smut, dominant Five, explicit sex

Every time you saw him walk past your reference desk at the university library, it became that much more apparent. You wanted him. On the days he wasn’t there, it was easier to pretend that you had no real interest in him outside of the subject matter he lectured about. You told yourself that you were attracted to him on a purely intellectual level, and nothing more. As if the thought of advanced quantum physics got your pulse quickening and your cheeks flushing.

Then there were those days when he would stride purposefully past, a man on a mission, coffee cup in hand, and dressed in his signature tailored suit. That’s when your little lies to yourself became much harder to believe. He would lock eyes with you, scanning your face with his piercing gaze and half-smile, before continuing on his way and suddenly you couldn’t think straight. On those days, if someone approached you for a simple question, like the library hours, you would stare back at them for several seconds before having to clear your parched throat and ask them to repeat themselves. 

Unfortunately, there was no getting around it: Five Hargreeves was not only brilliant, but also sexy as hell. And you couldn’t get him out of your head.

Not that it really mattered. It was no secret that he was a wanted man by most of the staff and students there. You would watch as the more out-going women and men would make a point of cornering him on his way out of his lectures, trying to block the doorway so he couldn’t move around them. Some of them would even find excuses to lightly brush against his arm or shoulder, pretending they were just being friendly, when you knew damn well they just wanted to touch him. You’d had the same urge yourself, but you certainly weren’t going to act on it.

Not only would you never have enough nerve to be that forward, but you have observed his reactions to these advances and it usually does not go well. It’s subtle, but it’s there. The way he flinches slightly at their touches. His obvious disinterest in whatever they are trying to talk to him about. The way he shoulders right past them with hardly a second glance; intent on getting out of there as quickly as possible.

But he always manages to take the route that goes past your desk, pausing sometimes like he wants to say something but then thinks better of it before hurrying away again. 

Five has been working at the same university as you for the past several months. It was a big deal when he was first hired. He was the youngest professor they had ever had on their faculty, and everyone was curious. As it turned out, this twenty-something year old man was not what anyone had expected. He was incredibly smart, but he was also brusque, no-nonsense, and sometimes just flat out mean. When he had started, he was given his own office, but for classes he preferred to use the smaller lecture room inside the vast library, although there were plenty of real classrooms around campus that he could have chosen.

Reputation aside, you were inclined to believe there was more to him than being a young, handsome, snarky genius. You were always observant when it came to people, which was part of the reason you worked at the reference desk when you weren’t working on your doctorate. You liked the quiet of the library, and the smell of the books surrounding you. You liked watching people go about their business and the way they interacted with one another. You also liked helping people, even if you were, by nature, an introvert. When it came to talking about the subject matters that interested you, then it was hard to get you to shut up. Unfortunately, there weren’t too many people that wanted to casually chat about theoretical physics and the illusion of time. Most people just wanted to know where the bathroom was.

So, since his arrival, Five had been on your radar for people-watching, but you had never spoken to him. You had once lingered outside the door of one of his classes, watching as he hurriedly scribbled figures and theories on the board, all while his students tried in vain to keep up. When one would dare to interrupt him and ask a question, there would be an aggravated sigh and a terse answer before he would continue on. The subject matter of string theory and how the concept of time is only a reflection of change was nothing you didn’t already know. You were currently working on your own thesis in that area. At one point, you considered taking a seat in the back of the room, but decided against it. You didn’t really like attention drawn to you, and besides, the class was much too rudimentary. But you never failed to slow your step as you passed by the room when he was teaching, just to hear the sound of his voice.

**********************************

“Excuse me, but I can’t seem to locate this book.”

You were engrossed in your research when a piece of paper floated down onto your desk. You recognized the voice immediately, even before looking up. When you did, there he was, apparently waiting for your response. You had never been that close to him before, and he was possibly even more gorgeous up close. His dark brown, messy hair fell over his eyes as he peered down on you with an amused expression. A dimple started to form on his cheek when the corner of his mouth turned up. He was not a huge man, but he still dwarfed your diminutive stature. Nearly everyone was taller and bigger than you, so that wasn’t new. But the way he held himself and the confidence that he exuded made him appear that much larger. You found yourself wondering what the weight of his body would feel like on top of yours.

“I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?” 

You finally got your brain to start working again and you blinked a few times before sputtering out an answer. “What? Oh no, you’re not. I’m sorry…I was just in my own little world I guess. What can I help you with?”

Five pointed down at the paper he had pushed at you. “That.”

On the paper was the name of a physics book that you were already familiar with. “Time: From Concept to Narrative Construct,” you read out loud. You looked back up at him with a small smile. “This is a good one.”

“You’re familiar with it?” Five asked, surprised.

You nodded. “I’ve been consulting it myself for my own research.” Reaching down into your bag that was near your feet, you pulled out a copy. “That’s why you can’t find it. I didn’t think anyone would miss it since it’s just been gathering dust on the shelf for years.”

A genuine smile crossed Five’s face and he leaned in over the desk. “I’ve never met anyone else that would read that voluntarily.”

With a laugh, you held it out to him. “I don’t think I have either. But here you go.”

“No, it’s ok, you can keep it. It sounds like you need it more than I do. What is your research about?”

“I’m currently writing a thesis on the theory of time as a social construct. I know it’s been done, but I’m hoping I can find something new and exciting to add to the field.”

“Very interesting,” he mused while still wearing that sexy, know-it-all smile. He held out his hand for you to shake. “Five Hargreeves. Nice to meet you.”

His hand was warm and firm while his long, slender fingers wrapped around yours. After introducing yourself, you felt your face flush with heat. Just the simple touch of his hand was enough to send a little bolt of pleasure through your body and you looked down at the ground, tucking a strand of your long, brown hair over your ear.

Five seemed to hold onto your hand for longer than necessary, which was nice, but you knew it didn’t mean anything. He had clearly come over here for a book and nothing more.

“Maybe we can meet up sometime and discuss our theories,” he suggested.

You couldn’t believe he was actually suggesting that, but you held in your astonishment and just nodded with a smile. “That would be nice.”

With another cock-sure smirk, Five turned and walked away while you were left sitting there, staring after him with a dreamy look on your face.

The weeks passed and you and Five had become friends. Well, maybe not fully friends; it was hard to say with him. One minute you would be having an in-depth conversation and the next he was saying a quick goodbye and hurrying away. You met for lunch at the university cafeteria to discuss everything from wormholes to the theory of time travel. When you started asking personal questions, though, he tended to shut up. But, that’s ok. You loved your little moments with him and being able to show off your intellect that nobody else appreciated.

“You really are incredibly smart, you know that, right?” Five said one day out of the blue, as you were picking at the wilted lettuce of your salad.

You looked up with raised eyebrows. “Oh…”

“I mean it,” he said, and suddenly his voice was much softer. The way he was looking at you was throwing you for a loop. “I’ve never met anyone like you. You’re brilliant.”

With your face flushed, you laughed softly. “Thanks, Five.”

He smiled and his green eyes flashed with something like affection before he looked down at his own food. You didn’t know what to make of this exchange, because there was no way in hell that he would be interested in you as anything more than a colleague. There was just no way. You watched as he took a drink of his water, his Adam’s apple bobbing up and down, and you almost made an audible whimpering noise at the sight. What you wouldn’t give to run your lips over his slender neck, and trail kisses under his strong jaw. He caught you staring at him and you quickly looked away.

************************************

The night you decided to go out with your friends, they had picked a loud dance club in the seedier part of town that was definitely not your usual scene. But you really needed a good time out with the girls to relieve some of your academic stress, so you didn’t argue. You wore a tight dress that showed off your petite frame, and curled your hair into waves that hung down your back. You slapped on some dark eye makeup and red lipstick before heading out.

The club was packed, with the music pumping and the dance floor full of people grinding all over one another. You were not in the mood for meeting anyone though, you were just there to hang out with your friends and have a couple of drinks. 

As you shoved your way towards the bar, a hand grabbed onto yours. You instinctively pulled it away, but when you looked up to see who it belonged to, you saw Five. He had a drink in his hand, most likely whiskey or bourbon, and he was dressed in his signature suit. You tried to cover your excitement on seeing him, but you smiled broadly and tried to yell over the thumping bass.

“Five! Why are you here?”

He leaned in close to you to be heard. That was the closest you had ever been to him, with his mouth just inches from your ear. He smelled like aftershave and mint, with a slight hint of the whiskey he’d been drinking. The slight scruff from his cheek scratched lightly against yours for half a second. It was intoxicating and you closed your eyes as he talked.

“I could ask the same of you. This doesn’t seem like your scene.”

You shrugged. “This is where my friends wanted to go, so I just followed along.”

“Is that right? Do you always do what other people tell you to do?”

When you looked at Five’s face, he had that smirk plastered on, and you couldn’t tell if he was trying to be flirty or not. He was just so damn hard to read.

“Depends on the person who is telling me,” you replied with a slight upturn of your red lips before blushing at your own minor innuendo.

A thoughtful look crossed over his face, followed by a slight nod of approval. “I see.” Then he leaned in close to your ear again. “That is very good to know.”

You chose to brush this comment away before it started taking up residence in your brain and causing all sorts of dirty thoughts. He was just trying to have a conversation, that’s all and nothing more. If it was coming across as flirty, it was probably because his drink had loosened him up.

“So, you didn’t answer me before. This place doesn’t seem like your scene, either. Why are you here?”

Five nodded towards the bar where a tall, lanky man in tight pants appeared to have a small group of people engrossed in a story while he gestured animatedly with a shot glass in his hand. “My stupid brother dragged me here.”

“Oh,” you said with a sly grin. “Do you always do what other people tell you to do?”

Five slowly shook his head ‘no’, then took a long drink from his glass, all while looking you in the eyes. “Not really. I’m usually the one calling the shots.”

You swallowed hard, and looked nervously around. You didn’t want him to see you acting like a fool just from some little throw away comment that you were making a big deal about in your head. 

“Well, I was on my way to get a drink.” When he didn’t say anything in return, you continued. “I plan on going out on the dance floor, though.” You paused. “You should join us out there.”

Five laughed sharply. “Oh, fuck no.”

Thinking maybe you insulted him somehow, you looked away again. “Oh, well…ok. I’ll see you around I guess?”

His hand came to rest on your shoulder. “I might not dance,” he said, brushing his cheek against yours as he talked close to your ear again. “But watching you out there would be more than enough entertainment for my night.”

Once again, you were thrown by his comment. It could be taken as flirty, but then again, why would he be flirting with you? He must have been teasing you; insinuating that you would look silly dancing. Suddenly your face was burning again.

“Yeah…ok,” you said quietly, unable to hide your embarrassment. “Bye, Five.”

As you walked away, you felt him staring after you. You didn’t dare turn around, but you could picture the intensity of his gaze on your back. He had rattled you, and because you didn’t know what to make of his comments, you couldn’t decide if you should be annoyed or not. After getting your drink and heading to the dance floor to join your friends, you couldn’t stop thinking about him. You had lost track of him in the crowd after your exchange, but you knew he was still there because his brother was still holding court over at the bar. So, the fact that maybe he was watching you made your body tingle with excitement. If he was, then you decided to put on a decent show for him.

For the next hour, you never left the dance floor. The music continued on an endless loop of pounding basslines, while strobe lights flashed over the crowd, dulling your senses and lulling you into a trance. Swaying your body with the beat, hands in the air, while you worked your hips and ass in enticing circles, you lost all of your usual inhibitions. You weren’t sure where your group of friends had gone, but you didn’t care. As you looked out into the sea of strangers surrounding you, one familiar face stood out. 

It was Five, and he was indeed watching you. The strobe lights created an eerie effect of showing him clearly one second, and then gone the next. Each time he reappeared into your view, he was closer. Making his way through the throng of dancers, he slowly neared you, never taking his eyes off you. When he finally reached you, you stopped dancing. It was much too loud and overstimulating on the dance floor to try and talk, so you both stood staring at one another with half-smiles on your faces. After a moment, you started moving with the beat again. Five continued to stand still, his drink in hand. Laughing, you turned around so that you were faced away from him, and continued your sensual dance moves.

You knew you looked good in your tight dress, and even though you still weren't sure of his intentions, you wanted Five to notice. Another minute passed before you felt a pair of strong arms wrap around your waist from behind. You were pulled flush with their body as they moved in rhythm with you. Warm breath fanned across your shoulder and neck, and you smiled to yourself. Pushing back against them, you let your head fall back onto their shoulder while your hands came to rest on top of theirs.

“Five…” you started to say as you turned your face towards him.

The face that greeted you, however, was not the one you were expecting. This was a stranger; some man you had never seen before and he was running his hands all over your body while his erection poked into your ass.

You shrieked and tried to pull away. “Get off of me!”

The club was loud and the lights were disorienting as you struggled against the man, but he just held you tighter. You could see the predatory smile on his face, making your skin crawl. Clawing at his arms that were wrapped around you, you tried to throw your body backwards to loosen his grip. That only seemed to make things worse by pushing your ass harder into his groin. You heard him moan next to your ear and you started to panic.

“Let go, you stupid fucker!” you screamed next to his face while trying to kick and pry his arms off of you. You scanned everyone around you, trying to catch the eye of someone that may be able to help. Everyone was lost in their own worlds, and no one was paying any attention to the sexual assault that was occurring just a few feet away.

Something you did must have worked because suddenly his arms were ripped away from you and you were free. There was a loud cry of surprise from the crowd around you, and when you spun around, you saw the offending man lying in a heap on the floor. A circle of people had formed around him while he writhed on the ground holding his bleeding face.

That’s when you saw Five again. He was standing over the man, glaring down at him with a sneer, while his hands remained balled into fists at his sides. As his chest rose and fell with angry breaths, his eyes met yours.

“Oh my god,” you gasped, although no one could hear you. “Five.”

Taking a few stalking steps towards you, he grabbed onto your arm, pulling you to him with a worried look. You couldn’t hear him, but you could read his lips. “Are you ok?” 

You nodded with wide eyes, still trying to fully understand the situation. Before anything else could be said or done, a large bouncer made his way through the crowd. Seeing that there was an injured man on the ground and that Five was clearly the cause of it, he immediately grasped onto Five’s upper arm and pulled him away from you.

“Come on, asshole. Out you go,” he snarled while pushing Five in the direction of the door.

“No wait!” you tried to yell out, but your voice was lost in the deafening music again.

The man Five had clocked had struggled to his feet and was stumbling away, still holding his badly broken nose. The rest of the crowd went back to their previous dancing and the circle filled in again. You were left looking at the back of the bouncer’s head as he forced Five out of the club.

Looking around for your friends, but not seeing them, you pushed your way through the dense dance floor and out into the bar area. It was still crowded, but less so, and the strobe lights weren’t affecting your vision anymore. You saw the door to the club open and close again, with the bouncer walking back towards you, alone, and you hurried towards the exit.

Outside, your ears were ringing as you took in a deep breath of the cool night air. When you saw him sitting on the curb, you let out a sigh of relief.

“Five!” you cried, before hurrying over. He looked up at you through his fringe of hair before sweeping it off his forehead with a smile. “Holy shit.” You sat down next to him, keeping your legs straight out in front of you so that your short dress wouldn’t ride all the way up. “Are you ok?”

He laughed. “Yeah, I’m ok. Are you?”

You nodded. “What happened?”

He shrugged. “I saw some creep trying to molest you, and since it didn’t look like you were appreciating it very much, I thought I’d intervene.”

“Wow,” you breathed out, shaking your head. “I had no idea you were the knight in shining armor type.”

“I don’t think my armor is very shiny, it’s pretty tarnished most days,” he said with a chuckle.

“Well, anyway…thank you.”

He looked at you with an expression you couldn’t read, but his facial features had softened. “You’re welcome.”

You glanced down at his right hand. “Oh shit…your hand. It’s all bruised.”

Five flexed his fingers and shook out his hand. “This is nothing. I’ll be fine.”

When you ran a thumb lightly across his reddened knuckles, you thought you heard a hitch in his breathing. But when you looked back at his face, you found it unreadable again.

“Thank you again, Five. Really.”

He nodded and then looked back at the club. “Well, I don’t think I’ll be welcome back there again, not that I’m complaining. But you go back in. Go have fun with your friends.”

“What are you going to do?”

“I don’t know. Sit here until my brother decides he’s had enough of being a slut so I can go home.”

You pulled your mouth to the side in thought and then bumped his shoulder with your own. “You know, that club isn’t all that great. The fresh air feels good, actually.”

Five didn’t say anything, but you did see a slight smile cross his lips before it was gone again. He looked over at you, his face more serious than you’d seen it before, with his eyebrows pulled together in a way that made you want to attack his mouth with your own.

“I used to be special, you know,” he said quietly.

“What do you mean?”

“I was born with special abilities. The power to time travel and teleport. I had them most of my life. Then they were violently ripped away from me and I haven’t been the same since.”

You stared back at him, not knowing what to make of this. He was clearly joking, but you couldn’t figure out what the joke was. His face was dead serious and his tone of voice conveyed an air of sadness.

“I don’t understand,” you answered hesitantly.

He shook his head with a short laugh and raked a hand through his hair again. “I know, I sound like a lunatic. I don’t expect you to believe me, but it’s true.” He looked off into the distance and sighed, pulling his legs up and resting his arms on his knees. “I spent most of my long life cursing the powers I had because they only ever seemed to bring me more misery. But now that I am finally rid of them…I can’t explain it, but it’s…” His voice trailed off as he searched for the word he wanted. “Painful.”

The way he said ‘painful’ cut right to your heart and you lightly rested your fingers on his arm. “What is painful, Five?”

He continued to look out at the dark sky. “You know, back there, when I punched that fucker in the face? That felt so much better than it should have. It was a rush I hadn’t felt in a long time. And yet…it still wasn’t the same. With my powers, I could have really wasted him. Probably would have had some smart-ass comment for him, too. And I sure as shit wouldn’t have been caught by some lumbering, asshole bouncer, no matter how much bigger he was than me.” He sighed again before turning to face you. “I know this makes no sense and you probably think I’m fucking insane, and I’m sorry. I just…fuck…some days I wish I weren’t so goddamn ordinary.”

“Five, you are the least ordinary person I know. I’ve never met anyone like you.”

His eyes searched your face and suddenly you realized how close you were to one another.

“But you don’t believe me, do you?” he softly.

You paused, taking in the sadness that was evident in his eyes. He somehow appeared years older, with the weariness of an older man. What he said made no sense. But you didn't think he was crazy.

“I believe you, Five.”

His eyebrows furrowed even more. “You do?”

“I think so. But I’d love for you to tell me more about it. I’d like to hear about your life.”

“I’d like to tell you,” he said with a slight nod.

A cool breeze passed over you and you shivered. Five shrugged his jacket off and placed it over your shoulders. You resisted the urge to bury your nose into the fabric to inhale the scent of him. Instead, you just smiled. 

“Again, very chivalrous of you,” you teased.

He smiled. “Don’t get used to it.”

After another glance back at the bar behind you, you turned back to Five. “Well, it doesn’t look like the people we came here with are going to be joining us anytime soon. So, how about you tell me everything now.”

“Here?”

“Why not? You’ve got me curious now.”

Five paused. “Yeah, alright. Why not? But just so you know, I won’t blame you if you suddenly want to run back inside or down the street to get away from me.”

You laughed. “I can’t imagine doing that.”

“Well, just wait.”

Over the next hour, you and Five sat on the curb, ignoring the drunken groups of people that would come stumbling past you on their way in or out of the club. You were fully invested in his story. The longer he talked, the more enchanted you became, until it felt like you and he were the only people in the world. He told you all about past timelines, his power to manipulate time and space, and his ultimate downfall that led to a lifetime of loneliness and suffering. He explained about his family and all of their suffering, as well. How he just wanted to save the world and all of them with it. And about how a few years ago, it was all stripped away from him.

“So, being that I had no identity and I looked like a fucking child, I didn’t have a lot of prospects. My family took me in for a while until I figured things out, which I am grateful for but was no picnic. Eventually, I was able to secure a few fake documents in order to get a job and weasel my way into an upstanding position.” He flashed you a devious smile. “That PhD I have hanging in my office? Not exactly legit.”

You laughed, astonished. “You mean you don’t have a doctorate?”

Five shook his head. “Worse. I don’t even have a high school diploma.”

Your mouth hung open for a minute before you let out a loud, long laugh. “Holy shit! You really are a genius!”

Five laughed along with you until you both quieted down and a comfortable calm settled over you both. When he looked at you, he appeared lighter. Like he wasn’t so world-weary anymore.

“Thank you,” he said.

“For what?”

“Listening. It’s been a long time since I’ve had someone to talk to about this.” He looked away again. “And I don’t expect you to believe any of it, but the fact that you didn’t run away screaming means a lot.”

“I already told you. I believe you. And thank you, too.”

“For what?”

“Trusting me. Not too many people confide in me. I don’t know if it’s because I’m usually so quiet, or because I’m small and look younger than I am. But no one seems to take me seriously most of the time. So, thank you for seeing something else in me.”

“I see a lot of things in you,” Five said. 

Just as you were about to convince yourself that maybe there was something going on between the two of you after all, the bar door opened behind you, the sound of thumping music and loud laughter spilling out into the night. When you turned, you saw your group of friends come stumbling out, giggling and falling over one another.

“There you are!” one of them laughed, pointing in your direction.

“Ooh, she’s not alone, either.”

As your face burned bright red, another one of your friends made a loud shushing noise. “Shut up, you guys…she’s trying to seal the deal. Damn, girl, go for it! He’s smoking hot!”

“Ok, then…” you said over the loud laughter, barely risking a glance in Five’s direction. You slipped his jacket off and handed it back to him. “I am so sorry. They’re usually not this obnoxious, I swear.”

Five chuckled. “I’m very familiar with being surrounded by obnoxious people.”

You stood up and Five followed. Your friends started to flag down a cab as you awkwardly smiled down at the ground.

“Thanks again for punching that guy.”

“My pleasure.” He paused. “By the way,” Five started with a grin. “I wasn’t initially sure you needed help. It looked like you were enjoying it for a second there.”

When you looked at him, he tilted his head to the side with a cocky smirk, stuffing his hands in his pants pockets. Your face burned hotter.

“Um…yeah. I guess I thought it was someone else at first,” you answered truthfully.

“Hmmm…” Five mused. “Interesting.”

Just then, you heard your friends call you over as a cab pulled up. With a wave, you left Five on the curb and got in the car. But the rest of your night was consumed with thoughts of him, and the amazing story he had told you.

*****************************

A week passed and you had been working late. The campus was quiet on the way to your car, but on a whim, you decided to cut through the building where Five kept his office. As luck would have it, you saw the light on behind the frosted glass of the door. You thought briefly of passing right by, but then you gathered enough courage to rap lightly against the frame. After a few seconds, he opened the door.

Looking amazingly fuckable, Five had shed the jacket and vest of his usual three-piece suit, and was left in his white dress shirt and black slacks. His hair was messier than normal, and when your gaze drifted behind him, you saw an opened bottle of whiskey on his desk.

“H-hi,” you stuttered out. “Am I interrupting you?”

Five paused for a second, looking you up and down, before shaking his head slowly. “No.”

He didn’t elaborate and you thought maybe you’d made a mistake coming there, but he suddenly seemed to snap out of whatever haze he had been in. He opened the door wider and gestured inside. “Please, come on in.”

You nodded, stepping inside, and he shut the door behind you with a loud click that made you jump. He was still eyeing you up as he walked to his desk and picked up the bottle of liquor.

“Can I pour you a drink?”

“Sure. Thank you.”

After another moment of silence, with just the slosh of liquid and clink of the bottle against the desk to fill the quiet, Five handed you the glass. You took it from him and his fingers brushed against yours in the process.

You cleared your throat before taking a small sip. The whiskey burned on the way down, but it was delicious. “What are you doing here so late?”

Five shrugged. “Just don’t feel like going home.”

He wasn’t exactly being short with you, but you could tell he was holding something back. After your deep conversation that night outside the club, you felt that you had made a real connection with one another. This, however, seemed like you had taken a step backwards.

“Oh.” You looked around, noticing the somewhat messy mahogany desk that acted as his work station. Behind it rose a wall of bookshelves that were filled with what you imagined to be very advanced physics texts. There didn’t appear to be any real personal items anywhere. No photos of family. No trinkets or tchotchkes on display. Not even any awards or plaques, although you were sure he’d earned some.

“So,” you started nervously. “I’ve figured out my thesis.”

“Oh yeah?”

“Yeah. The theory of time travel and its hypothetical consequences on multiple timelines.”

He paused before snorting out a laugh and taking a drink out of his own glass. “Sure you are.”

“I’m serious. You opened my eyes to a whole new world and I want to learn more about it. I thought…you know…I thought you could help me with my research. Since you have first hand experience.”

His eyebrows drew together as he peered at you over his glass. “Why would you do that?”

“Do what?”

“Throw your entire life’s work down the drain for some stupid ass theory that no one is going to believe. They’ll laugh at you.”

You were hurt, but tried to hide it behind a small smile. “People will believe, Five. I believe you. And we have the scientific facts to back it up. Or, at least, you do. But you can teach me. You can explain all of the physics required to work your powers.”

“I don’t have any powers,” he said dryly.

You sighed loudly. “You know what I mean. Come on, I thought you would be excited by this.”

“Yeah. Sorry. I can help with whatever you need.”

There was another awkward pause while you regarded one another, but since he didn’t say anything else, you assumed that was the end of the conversation.

“Thank you. This is really going to change our field, Five, you have no idea.” You set your glass down on the desk. “Well, it’s late, so I’ll leave you be. I’ll see you tomorrow?”

As you moved towards the door, you heard him slam his glass down next to yours. “That’s it?”

When you spun around, you had never seen him looking at you the way that he was right then. You obviously had made him mad in some way, but you weren’t sure what it could have been. His darkened eyes narrowed as they scanned your face and then your body, the muscles in his jaw working in quiet concentration. It unnerved you, but it also made your heart flip in your chest.

“I don’t understand.”

“What more do you want from me?” he asked, voice low and measured.

You swallowed hard, voice trembling as you answered him meekly. “What do you mean?”

“I don’t know what else to do to make you notice me.”

“I…I do notice you. Of course I do. We have a whole thing…I thought we were friends…I…,” you stammered before he cut you off with a shake of his head and a step towards you that had you backing up.

“That’s not what I mean and you fucking know it,” he stated plainly, right before he took another step and then another, all the while corralling you away from the door and back into the room.

You sucked in a loud breath as your butt hit the desk behind you, trapping you. “Five…I really don’t–”

“Stop,” he hissed. “You’re the smartest person I know, so cut the shit. You know exactly what I’m talking about. Stop pretending that you don’t.”

At that, you felt a fire light inside of you. It was a combination of the months-long hunger you’ve felt for him and the urge to defend yourself against his asshole remarks.

“Whatever the fuck you’re talking about Five, I’m not playing your little guessing game. If you’re accusing me of something, just say it.”

His lips curled into a sinister smile as he crowded into your personal space. “Fine, I can be blunt. I have done everything I can think of these past few months. We had good conversations, we connected; I tried flirting, although I admit I’m not very good at it. I knocked some shit head to the ground for you.” He stopped and swallowed hard, his voice becoming quieter. “I told you everything.”

“But you’re still not telling me what you want,” you argued, trying to stay strong as your eyes drifted to his lips.

“You,” he rasped. “I want you. And I think you fucking know that.”

You shook your head almost imperceptibly. “No, I didn’t know that.”

“Liar,” he said with a smirk before closing the few inches between you, making you lean back with your hands supporting you on the desktop behind you. You drew in a sharp breath as his hand trailed gently over your cheek, spreading what felt like fire across your skin as he placed his palm against the side of your neck. “Tell me the truth.”

With a hard, audible swallow, you raised your hand to clasp it around his wrist. His skin was warm against yours and you could feel his thrumming pulse under your fingers. “I want you, too. I just didn’t think–”

Cut off from finishing your thought, Five’s mouth was on yours in a heartbeat. Your lack of resistance was immediate as you gave into him; kissing him urgently as you clenched harder onto his wrist. The quiet whimper that you gave made him smile as he used his teeth to gently nip at your bottom lip.

“I’ve thought about this a lot,” Five said when he pulled away.

“What have you been thinking about, exactly?” you said with a flutter of your eyelashes. You weren’t sure where this new assertiveness was coming from, but you let your free hand slide down the side of his chest and stomach before hooking a finger into the belt loop of his pants. 

A feral look crossed Five’s face as he pressed into you. With an easy twist of his wrist, he forced your hand off of him until he was the one grasping yours. Taking your soft gasp as a positive reaction, he did the same with your other hand. He leaned his head in close, his eyes closing as he brushed his lips against yours for just a second.

“Fucking you,” he replied plainly, as if that were obvious, his voice even and low. He pushed his thigh between your legs. “Right here.” His mouth trailed along your jaw; the scruff of his chin scraping against your neck. “Making you come on my cock while you’re moaning my name.”

As if he put some sort of spell on you, you automatically whined out, “Five…,” as your eyes fell shut and you pressed your groin against his leg.

“Just like that,” he praised with a smirk, holding your wrists just a little tighter. “Only louder.” When your hazel  eyes opened again, they were met with his emerald ones staring steelily down on you. “We could play this game a little more, but I think we’ve waited long enough, don’t you think?”

You blinked up at him, your lips parted, and you gave him a small nod of assent.

He dove onto your mouth again, his tongue slipping inside, as he squeezed your wrists. When he moaned quietly, his body flush with yours again, you tried to free your hands so that you could feel more of him, but he held tight. When he moved away from your mouth, he slid his soft lips over your cheek and down your neck, nuzzling into you with his nose and chin.

“I’ve wanted this for so long. You’re the only one that understands me,” he whispered before finally letting go of your wrists and boosting you up onto the desk. Your skirt rode up your thighs as you spread your legs just enough to let him stand in between. 

Letting your hands roam over the soft material of his dress shirt, following the curve of his firm, trim waist, and around to his back, you answered him softly. “I do understand you, Five. You’re amazing.”

He didn’t say anything to that, only continued kissing down your neck and over your collarbone. His fingers came to rest at the hem of your sweater, lifting it just slightly above your waistline before stopping. Drawing his head back, he looked deeply into your eyes. That untamed intensity was still there and you held your breath in anticipation of what was going to come next.

“Do you know how to be a good girl?” he asked in that tone that made your mouth water.

His brazenness took you off guard, but only for a second. Fuck, you wanted to be his good girl more than anything. “Yes,” you breathed out a little too eagerly; the panties under your skirt already soaked.

“Perfect,” he murmured, his eyes searching your face and then your chest. “Because I’m going to need you to be very, very good for me.”

You had never been so hot for someone in your life, and you felt like you were going to die if you didn’t feel more of his body on you. He pushed his hips in closer, his hard cock dragging across your pelvis, and enticing you even more.

“Five…” you whimpered.

“Shhh,” he whispered, leaning down to kiss you. The feel of his lips against yours and the heat of his skin was too much and you bucked your hips sharply against him, your butt sliding forward on the desk. He drew back from your mouth, breathing hard. “Stay quiet for me, ok, sweetheart? Can you do that?”

With another pathetic nod of your head, you let him completely take command. He pulled your body roughly towards him, moaning quietly as his fervent kisses deepened and you gave yourself over to whatever power he had over you. He could have told you almost anything, and you would have followed his orders. He was all you needed; all you cared about at that moment. And, fuck, if he didn’t feel amazing with his sizeable dick straining in his pants and pressing against you.

Five was back to pulling at the bottom of your shirt, but this time he didn’t stop. You helped him by raising your hands over your head while he yanked it off. Taking a moment to look you over, his hands made their way around to your back, already working at your bra clasp. You didn’t protest, and soon you were topless while his eyes roamed hungrily over your naked chest.

“Fuck, you’re beautiful,” he moaned before attacking your mouth again.

You made soft moaning noises as his fingers grazed over your breasts and down your stomach. You had spent so much time imagining what this would feel like and now it was really happening. He had pulled away again, breathing hard as he watched his own hands as they sensually massaged your tits, before moving down and around again. As he squeezed your ass roughly, you captured his mouth with yours, not willing to wait for him to come to you. He didn’t resist or back off, even as he continued exploring your body. Sucking at his lips, biting voraciously because you couldn’t get enough, you devoured as much of him as you could get. 

Your breath was ragged and harsh as you breathed through your nose, unable to tear yourself away from his delicious taste. With a sudden flinch, Five drew back from you, leaving you panting for air. Raising his hand to his mouth, he pulled his fingers away, showing a small amount of blood on them. Five smiled evilly and licked at his lower lip.

“Biting?”

With a slow smile, you blinked up at him. “I’m sorry. You just taste so damn good.”

He made a humming noise low in his throat as he regarded you thoughtfully. With no warning, he pulled you off of the desktop, and spun you around, ignoring your sharp cry of surprise. With the edge of the desk digging into your lower stomach, you felt Five’s hands on either side of you, his strong fingers grasping at your hips. The unmistakable feeling of his hard cock pushing against your ass was next, and you supported yourself with your hands as you pushed back in response.

One of Five’s arms snaked around to hold you tighter across the front of your waist as he leaned over, covering your back with his body and nuzzling his face against the side of your neck.

“Good girls don’t bite,” he warned, his voice thick with lust. “You lied again.”

You shook your head, your hair hanging down and covering your face. “No, I can be good.”

“Hmmm,” he murmured into your neck. “Let’s see about that.”

Five moved his body so that he had you fully at his mercy. Trapped between him and the desk, you could barely move, and he was strong enough to keep you there as long as he wanted. But you had no desire to leave. Feeling him hard, with his chest heaving against your back, and his harsh breath covering your shoulders, you couldn’t think of any place else you’d rather be. 

His hands were on your tits again, squeezing and pushing them together, all while he sucked painful bruises down your neck. You would be marked with his love bites tomorrow, that much was clear, and there would be no way to fully cover them. You had a feeling that was exactly what he wanted, though. Just the thought of everyone seeing what he had done to you was enough to send another surge of wetness between your legs.

Five’s hands slowly made their way down your sides and then your thighs, before coming to the hem of your skirt. This time, unlike with your sweater, he did not hesitate to pull it up. Bunching it around your waist, you were fully exposed to him, aside from the very small pair of thong underwear you were wearing.

“Oh, fuck,” Five moaned as he caressed your ass cheek, and then gave it a light slap. “God, this ass is perfect.”

He enveloped your entire body again, leaning over you so that your upper half was forced down onto the desk. You let out a whimper and bit at your lower lip in an effort to control yourself. You wanted him so badly it hurt, but you also wanted to be good for him, just like he asked. So instead of crying out and begging for him to fuck you, you stayed quiet. The only signs that you were desperate for him were the harsh sounds of your breathing and the way your ass rhythmically rocked against his crotch as if it had a mind of its own.

His fingers wound into your hair as he gave it a tug, forcing your head back as he whispered softly against your neck; his lips tracing feather-light patterns over your skin, but never kissing you.

“Tell me you want me.”

Your answer caught in your throat as you closed your eyes. “I want you.”

Five moved his mouth down to your shoulder, the vibration of his dark voice sending a blissful chill down your spine.

“Tell me you want my cock.”

“I want your cock,” you whined, not even a little ashamed of your submission or arousal.

When Five’s fingers slid their way around your front and into the side of your panties, you gulped in a loud breath and exhaled with a sigh. He knew what he was doing, that much was clear, and he began quickly working you into a frenzy while you shamelessly rolled your hips with each stroke of his hand. Slowly massaging your throbbing clit with his thumb, he entered you with his middle finger. You were so wet for him that you were dripping down his hand and onto his wrist. That just seemed to urge him on, and he continued to slide in and out of your hole with ease, hitting every nerve on the way, until you were moaning and panting with desire.

“Tell me you want me to fuck you,” he demanded. He sucked another bruise onto your shoulder and pressed his thumb harder against you, making you cry out.

“Yes! Please…I want you to fuck me!”

“Say it again.”

“Five!” you whined pitifully. “I want you to fuck me! I’ve been wanting you to fuck me for so long. Just…please!”

With a quiet laugh, Five removed his fingers from between your legs. In another second, he was pulling your panties down your hips and thighs, until they fell onto the floor. Left in nothing but your bunched up skirt, you waited for his next move.

For a minute, you only heard the rustling of clothing mixed with his harsh breathing. When you looked to the side, you saw his shirt being discarded onto the floor. You instinctually made to turn around, but he immediately placed a hand on your back, keeping you in place. His palm was warm and firm against your bare skin as you submitted to his wordless request. The sound that followed was the clinking of metal on metal as he began to undo his belt with his one free hand.

You involuntarily pushed your ass back, but received nothing in return except for a low chuckle. The agonizingly slow pace with which he was unzipping his fly was killing you. A thin river of your arousal slipped down the inside of your thigh, but you could do nothing but wait.

When finally you felt his warm, thick cock slide against your backside, you let out a shaky groan.

“What do you think, sweet girl?” he teased, rubbing the swollen head between your legs, spreading your wetness over you both. “Are you ready for me?”

“Yes…fuck yes…” you gasped. You could barely make out any words; your focus was entirely on his dick and how badly you wanted him inside of you.

You widened your stance when he used his foot to gently nudge your feet apart and allow him better access. His hands grasped at your hips as he pulled you back, and you let your head hang down. 

Five eased his cock into your waiting pussy, pausing a few times as he stretched you open. You forgot to breathe as he pushed slowly into you until you were fully penetrated and you heard him make a low growling noise as his pelvis became flush with your ass.

“Five,” you whispered under your breath as you remembered to take in oxygen again.

“What is it, darling?” he asked, the restraint evident in the tightness of his voice.

You arched your back in desperation and made a sad, crying noise that might have sounded painful if you didn’t answer him loudly. “More! Five, please!”

Hugging you tightly to his chest, his dick still fully buried inside of you, he moaned against your shoulder. “Fuck…you are my good girl, aren’t you?”

After one grunting slap of his hips against your ass, you braced yourself with your hands in preparation. Any restraint that Five had been holding onto before that moment was lost, and he began fucking you hard and rough; pounding his thick cock into you over and over again while you whined and moaned beneath him. He told you how beautiful you were, and how long he had been waiting for this moment, all while driving himself deeper inside of you. His dick was hitting just the right spot and you had never felt this amount of intensity from someone else before. You wanted more. It didn’t matter that he was giving you everything he had, his firm body covering your back and his warm mouth brushing down your neck. You still wanted more.

When his fingers found their way to your clit again, that’s when you started to really lose it. You sounded like you were sobbing as you cried out his name, but it was all from pleasure and you reached down to press his hand harder against you.

“Yes…oh god…fff–oh yeah…oh my god…Fi-ive…aaAHH!”

Right as you were about to tip over the edge, Five pressed his forehead against your shoulder. “Let me come inside you. Please.”

You nodded eagerly and squeaked out a weak “Yes” before fully giving yourself over to the building warmth in your groin. The orgasm that washed over you was the most intense you had ever experienced. Your entire body was trembling as your fingers dug into the desktop and your ass pushed back against him in sporadic thrusts. Five delivered one last punishing drive before his hips stilled and he emptied himself inside of you. Your moans were mixing together, combining with the humid air from your collective panting. The scent of sex and arousal filled the room as hot waves of pleasure pulsed over you both. Five’s last rasping growl faded out as you tried to catch your breath. He held you close to him, his hair tickling your neck as his damp chest heaved against your back.

When he slipped out of you, he placed a soft kiss next to your ear before letting you go and backing away. You turned around, facing him for the first time since he had bent you over the desk. His hair was disheveled, with strands of it sticking to his forehead. His eyes that were once dark and piercing were back to their soft green as he gave you a shy smile and pushed his hair back. You took in his hard body, all sculpted abs and lean muscle. Your mouth watered at just the sight and even though you were still in the process of coming down from the strong orgasm he just gave you, you couldn’t help wanting him again.

“Well…” you said with a smile as you leaned back against the desk. “You may not have a real doctorate, but I can say with certainty that you have earned a very real Phd in fucking, Professor Hargreeves.”

Five’s eyebrows raised up his forehead before letting out a shocked laugh.

“What?” you said with a casual shrug. “I’m an introvert…not a prude.”

“Clearly,” Five noted with a smile before bending down to pull up his pants that were still around his ankles.

“No, no,” you said. “Don’t bother. Just take them off.”

With another pleasantly surprised smile, Five did just that and stepped out of his pants. While you pushed your skirt the rest of the way off, he neared you again, holding you close to his naked body and looking down on you with gentle eyes. His hand came to rest on the side of your face.

“I know I’m not special anymore, but you gave me something back. Something I had lost. Thank you.”

“Five, you are special. You’re special to me.” He leaned down to kiss you sensually, and your body responded immediately, already trying to pull him in for more. “Besides,” you smiled as you perched yourself up on the desk again, wrapping your legs around his waist. “I think you just proved you have all the power you need.”

Five’s arrogant grin grew as he pressed his already hardening cock between your legs. “That I do, sweetheart. But, I think we may need to prove this a few more times.” He kissed you roughly on the mouth. “For science.”

[inkspiredwriting]

Welcome to the Chaos, Maddie Hargreeves

Five Hargreeves x reader

A/N: I know there are a lot of people who don't see Five as a dad, but the idea of ​​seeing Five as a father, I don't know, I just think it's sweet. Please tell me if you like it, because I have written many little stories with Five's and Y/n's daughter. But if most of you don't like it, I wouldn't post it.

Warnings: None

It was a surprisingly calm afternoon at the Umbrella Academy mansion. Five Hargreeves was in the library, immersed in a thick book about quantum mechanics, while his very pregnant wife, Y/N, lounged on the couch nearby, flipping through a magazine.

Suddenly, Y/N gasped and clutched her belly. "Five!"

Five looked up, immediately alert. "What is it? Are you okay?"

Y/N's eyes were wide with a mixture of shock and excitement. "My water just broke!"

For a moment, Five just stared at her, his brain struggling to process the information. Then, all hell broke loose.

"Okay, okay, we need to get to the hospital," he stammered, jumping to his feet and nearly knocking over a lamp in the process. "Where's the hospital bag? Do we have the car keys? Do we even have gas in the car?"

Y/N couldn't help but laugh, despite the situation. "Five, calm down! The bag is by the door, the keys are on the hook, and yes, we have gas."

Five rushed around the room, grabbing things at random. "Right, right. Bag, keys, gas... Okay, let's go!"

As they made their way to the front door, they were intercepted by Klaus, who was munching on a bowl of cereal. "Hey, where's the fire?"

"Y/N's water broke!" Five shouted, looking more frazzled by the second.

Klaus's eyes widened in delight. "Oh my god, it's baby time! Everybody, get over here!"

Within minutes, the entire Hargreeves clan had gathered, each sibling contributing their own brand of chaos.

Luther tried to help by carrying Y/N to the car, but ended up banging her head on the doorframe. "Sorry! Sorry!"

Diego insisted on driving, despite his notoriously terrible driving skills. "I've got this! Just get in the car!"

Allison was trying to keep everyone calm, using her power to influence the situation. "I heard a rumor that everyone stayed calm and collected."

Viktor was frantically searching for his camera to document the moment. "This is going to be amazing for the baby book!"

Ben, who was only visible to Klaus, was laughing at the whole spectacle. "This is priceless."

Amidst the pandemonium, Five finally managed to get Y/N into the car. He jumped into the driver's seat, pushing Diego out of the way. "No way you're driving, Diego. I'll do it."

The drive to the hospital was a blur of frantic instructions, deep breathing, and Klaus offering unsolicited advice from the backseat.

"Just think happy thoughts, Y/N! Rainbows and puppies and—"

"Shut up, Klaus!" Five and Y/N shouted in unison.

When they finally arrived at the hospital, the staff took over, guiding Y/N to a room and leaving Five to pace nervously in the waiting area. His siblings were trying their best to be supportive, but their presence only added to his anxiety.

"Do you think it'll be a boy or a girl?" Allison asked, trying to make conversation.

Five ran his hands through his hair. "I don't care, as long as they're healthy."

A few hours later, a nurse came out with a big smile. "Mr. Hargreeves? Your wife is asking for you."

Five bolted to the delivery room, his heart pounding. When he walked in, he saw Y/N holding a tiny, wriggling bundle wrapped in a pink blanket. Her face was flushed, but she was beaming.

"Meet our daughter, Maddie," Y/N said, her voice full of love.

Five approached cautiously, as if in a dream. He looked down at the tiny face peeking out of the blanket and felt his heart swell with an overwhelming mixture of pride and love. "She's perfect," he whispered, tears gathering in his eyes.

Y/N laughed softly. "We did it, Five."

He leaned down to kiss her forehead. "You did it, Y/N. You're amazing."

Just then, the door burst open and the rest of the Hargreeves family piled in, eager to meet the newest member of the family. There was a chorus of "awws" and "she's so cute!"

Klaus, of course, had the last word. "Well, Maddie, welcome to the madhouse. You're going to fit right in."

Despite the chaos, Five and Y/N couldn't have been happier. They had survived the wildest ride of their lives and come out the other side as a family. And as they looked down at their beautiful baby girl

, they knew that whatever the future held, they would face it together.

Five looked around at his siblings, who had formed a noisy, excited circle around little Maddie. Despite their quirks and the constant chaos, he couldn't have imagined a better support system for his daughter.

Y/N, holding Maddie close, turned to Five with a warm smile. "You know, I think Maddie's going to be just fine with all these aunts and uncles watching over her."

Five grinned, finally feeling a sense of calm wash over him. "Yeah, she's going to be one tough kid."

Diego, trying to look serious but failing miserably, pointed at Maddie. "She better be ready to learn some knife-throwing skills."

Allison rolled her eyes. "Diego, she's a baby. Maybe start with something less... hazardous?"

Klaus leaned in close to Maddie, his usual mischief twinkling in his eyes. "Don't listen to them, Maddie. Uncle Klaus is going to teach you all the fun stuff."

Five shook his head, chuckling. "Just remember, if she picks up any bad habits, I'm holding you all responsible."

Viktor, gently patting Maddie's tiny hand, smiled. "She's already got the best parents. The rest of us are just here to spoil her."

As the Hargreeves siblings continued to banter and coo over Maddie, Five took a moment to reflect. Life had thrown so many unexpected challenges their way, but standing here with his family, holding his newborn daughter, he realized just how much they had all grown.

Y/N looked up at him, her eyes filled with love and gratitude. "We've come a long way, haven't we?"

Five nodded, squeezing her hand. "We have. And it's only going to get better from here."

With that, he wrapped his arm around Y/N, pulling her and Maddie close. In that chaotic hospital room, surrounded by his eccentric family, Five Hargreeves felt a profound sense of peace and contentment. They were a far cry from ordinary, but they were his family. And now, with little Maddie Hargreeves in their lives, the adventure was just beginning.

As they left the hospital, heading home as a new family, Five couldn't help but smile. Despite the madness, despite the challenges, they had made it. And as he looked at his daughter, he knew that together, they could face anything.

"Welcome to the family, Maddie," Five whispered, kissing her forehead. "You're going to love it here."

[isaacarellanesismyhusband]

cute

pair: tom!Peter Parker x reader

summery: Peter tries to ask y/n(she/her) out but he gets all flustered and shy and stumbles in words a lot but she thinks it's cute

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Peter Parker was not nervous. At least, that’s what he kept telling himself as he wiped his clammy hands on his jeans for the hundredth time. It was just Y/N. Y/N, who he’d known for years. Y/N, who had the best laugh and always knew when he needed a little extra help in math. Y/N, who was sitting right in front of him, completely unaware that Peter’s heart was doing somersaults.

He could totally do this. He had to do this. After all, it wasn’t like he could keep accidentally spilling his feelings during every awkward conversation they had. She glanced up from her notebook, her lips curling into a soft smile as she caught him staring. “Hey, you good, Peter?”

“Y-yeah!” he stammered, his voice coming out a little too high. “Totally! Why wouldn’t I be good? I’m great, actually.”

Her eyebrows raised slightly, amusement flickering across her face. She had that effect on him — making him feel both comfortable and utterly flustered at the same time.

Peter bit his lip, silently urging his brain to function. It wasn’t like he was trying to ask her to solve a quantum physics equation. All he needed to do was ask her out. Simple. Easy. Just six words: “Do you want to go out?”

But of course, nothing with Peter Parker was ever that simple.

“So, um, Y/N,” he began, scratching the back of his neck awkwardly, “I was thinking... or, well, not thinking — I mean, I do think. A lot, actually. But, uh, I’ve been, you know, noticing things. Like, um, we’ve been friends for a long time, right? And, uh, I was wondering if— if maybe, like, sometime if you’re not too busy, or, um, even if you are busy, I mean, I’d understand if you are — I mean, you’re always busy, not that it’s a bad thing! You’re just really... uh... organized? No, that’s not the word…”

Y/N blinked, watching him with that same gentle smile, patiently waiting for him to continue. Peter felt like his brain was short-circuiting.

“But what I’m trying to say is,” he inhaled sharply, his heart hammering in his chest, “would you— do you want— would you maybe want to, like, do something? With me? Together? As in... not as friends... I mean, we can still be friends, obviously! I just... like, more than friends?”

Peter squeezed his eyes shut, cringing at his own stumbling. This was going horribly. Why couldn’t he just speak like a normal human being?

When he finally dared to open his eyes, Y/N’s expression hadn’t changed. She was still smiling, her gaze warm and kind, but there was something else there too. Something soft and almost... endeared?

Peter’s heart skipped a beat. Was she laughing at him?

“I’m sorry,” he muttered, rubbing his face with his hands. “That was a mess. I’ll just—”

“Peter,” Y/N interrupted gently.

He froze, his hands still half-covering his face as he peeked at her through his fingers. “Y-yeah?”

“Are you trying to ask me out?” she asked, a teasing lilt to her voice, though her eyes were filled with nothing but kindness.

Peter felt his entire face flush. “Y-yes?”

Her smile widened, and she tilted her head slightly, biting back a laugh. “And you want me to say yes, right?”

He nodded furiously, mentally kicking himself for being so obvious.

“Well...” Y/N paused, dragging out the silence just enough to make his heart race even more. “In that case, yes. I’d love to.”

Peter blinked, his brain struggling to catch up with her words. “Wait... really?”

She laughed softly, reaching out to gently nudge his shoulder. “Yes, really. I think it’d be fun. You know, us... together. Not as just friends.”

For a moment, Peter could only stare at her, his mind trying to process the fact that she had just said yes. She said yes. She wanted to go out with him. His heart was doing backflips again, but this time, it felt more like excitement than nervousness.

“I— Wow, okay!” he blurted out, a huge, goofy grin spreading across his face. “I mean, that’s awesome. Really awesome. I didn’t mess it up?”

Y/N shook her head, that familiar sparkle in her eyes. “You didn’t mess anything up, Peter. You’re kinda cute when you get all flustered.”

His heart just about exploded at that, and he quickly glanced away, trying — and failing — to hide the growing blush on his cheeks. “R-really?”

She nodded, biting her lip as if she was holding back more teasing remarks. “Yep. But next time, you can just ask, you know? No need for the whole word jumble.”

“I’ll remember that,” Peter mumbled, still grinning like an idiot.

As they sat there, with the comfortable silence settling between them, Peter couldn’t help but feel like the luckiest guy in the world. He didn’t know how he’d managed to pull this off, but somehow, he had. And when he finally worked up the courage to glance back at her, Y/N was still smiling at him like she knew something he didn’t — like maybe, just maybe, she’d felt the same way all along.

This was going to be the start of something amazing. He just knew it.

[with-my-murder-flute]

TLT theory: Aim, Jod, and the second part of the message

My brain is fevered. I feel like I've constructed an elaborate Pepe Silvia corkboard in my mind, and it feels like it makes sense of everything, but I honestly have no clue if that certainty will last very long.

I think I know what the Messenger is carrying. I think I know why John has waited ten thousand years.

Spooky preview quote from HtN chapter 2:

I mastered Death, Harrowhark; I wish I’d done the smarter thing and mastered Time.

Spoilers for Gideon, Harrow, and Nona the Ninth.

BoE's chronology has always been kind of weird to me: Five thousand years after the Resurrection happens, they pop up with intense and detailed knowledge of the 21st century! Jod destroys languages and cultures and societies, but BoE keeps popping up! How.

Originally I thought the continuous thread over the years was a Lyctor who helped them (and the necromantic implant does seem to point that way) but I also think part of it is that the ships that escaped just before Earth's devastation have been showing up one by one, over a huge span of time. That's why Wake says "My long-dead natal sun" and can quote Eminem at length; she spent ten thousand years suspended in time, before re-entering it.

NtN, John 19:18:

They said they’d managed to find some poor dipshit geek who’d fixed the FTL problem of getting locked in the chrono well, you know, moving so fast you were stuck doing quantum wheelies. They’d come up with something where you could oscillate out so long as the ship was attuned to a prearranged spectrum outside. I still don’t understand the maths. It’s going to take me ten thousand years to understand it. I couldn’t follow, but A— could. He said immediately, What is the point if you still have no fucking clue where your ship is going to end up when you shake out of FTL. They said, Aha, but we can track it once it’s out. A— said, It could be halfway across the universe or phasing through a planet. They kept arguing that probably wouldn’t happen [...] They said it was expensive, so twelve ships would go first, with one guiding them out with the beacon frequencies like a tugboat leading a cruise liner, triangulate for Tau Ceti, dump the population, and come back.

I think that AIM's message is the beacon that will call the last of the FTL fleet out of the chrono well. They are "we", they are the first of two parts, because their identity is the person they were before coming the Messenger, and the ships that still haven't oscillated back into three-dimensional space yet, because they are under AIM's personal guardianship/intimately tied to possession of her body.

NtN, John 5:4

I think the only reason I haven’t done it already is that I can’t bear the idea that I wouldn’t be able to touch them—that they’d still be out there …

I think Jod has been at this for so long because he is waiting for an event that could literally take an infinite amount of time to occur. He hasn't killed the entire colonized population yet because he wants something out of them, and it doesn't seem to be labour or devotion or even thanergy.

I think he's looking for the fleet's beacon, in a way that's like lighting a grassfire to flush animals out of hiding and deprive them of shelter. I think he's constantly killing planets and relocating and resettling populations before funnelling them together again, like a distillery trying to heat and separate different liquids as they move from flask to flask, because he wants to finally decant the key to the last ships that escaped him.

[tlouxx]

Electromagnetism

~ ellie williams x reader

——————————————————————————

part two <3

synopsis: you and ellie williams have been long time rivals. you are a physics majors at wellesley college, and you’re competing for the same spot in the prestigious dr. ramsey’s lab as ellie. suddenly neither of you can escape the other as you’re both trying to navigate your final year of college.

content: college!ellie, modern au, mean!ellie, academic rivals to lovers, slow burn, forced proximity, eventual smut, swearing, banter, just trying to intro ellie and reader rn

an: this is the first fic i've written! i hope you enjoy :) pls be kind

——————————————————————————

I want this year to be better. To achieve more. To get everything I have wanted. Well.. I want this to be the year I best Ellie Williams. It has been so frustrating to get second best to her no matter how hard I try. I study 15 hours for the exam. She studies for 20. I get a 98 on the lab report. She gets a 100. I can’t stand this girl. This year I have a fire under my ass. I’ll do whatever it takes to get the lab position with Dr. Ramsey, and I know Ellie is gunning for it too… 

...

Day One  - PHYS 302: Quantum Mechanics 

Fuck. I know I'm going to be late. I had been up until 2:00 a.m. devising a plan for how I was going to handle all of the stress of senior year. Between tutoring, a full class load, and working on my thesis, I am going to have no life outside of school. Although, I’m kind of fucking it up already by waking up late for the first day of class. 

…

I am sprinting through campus trying to navigate through the thick of the freshman class wandering aimlessly around. I have 1 minute and 39 seconds to make it on time before Dr. L locks the door. (She’s a bit famous for doing that). It’s mid august and hot. I can feel the sweat dripping down my back, and my bangs are clinging to my forehead. I see a shortcut to the physics building through the freshly landscaped garden. Dirt and mulch kicks up my jeans, but I don’t care. Behind me, I hear yelling. “Move out of my way!!” I look momentarily to see none other than Ellie Williams. Suddenly I don’t feel as bad about being late. She’s in her typical wardrobe of converse and a jacket too big for her, and she’s running toward me. 

…

“Don’t you know she’s going to lock the door on us!” 

“I know Ellie!” I scoff back. I book it knowing we only have 45 seconds left to make it on time. We’re both charging up the stairs. Ellie shoves me aside. I yell  “Are you kidding me!” She simply laughs at me. 

… 

I’m following right behind her. I can feel the anger flood through my body. My cheeks are flushed, and I can feel my rage nearly leave my mouth. I know I’d only be stooping to her level. I see the door in my line of sight and feel the tension dissipate knowing we made it. We rush through the door with seconds to spare. All eyes are on us. I suddenly feel the anger leave and be replaced by embarrassment. I look around for somewhere to sit. PHYS 302 is a popular class with a majority of the seats being full. Ellie and I look at each other realizing there are only two seats left. Right next to each other. 

…

We both glare at the other, but sit down knowing we’ve already caused a commotion by busting through the door at the last second. I’m angry. I’m irritated. This is exactly why I have to do better this semester. I know what I want, and I won’t stop until I see that smirk wiped off her face. 

…

As class continues on, I glance over at Ellie. She’s diligently taking notes and hanging on to every word Dr. L says. I should be doing the same. This class is important to me, and doing well can help me guarantee my spot in Dr. Ramsey’s lab. I’ve been dreaming of doing my thesis with her help since freshman year. Right now though, I need to stop daydreaming about beating Ellie and actually do it. 

…

I’ve always loved the atmosphere here at Wellesley. The campus is gorgeous and almost looks otherworldly at times. The blossoming pinks of the spring and the rich reds and yellows of the fall makes it look like a daydream. I have studied at nearly every picnic table out here. The sun is shining down on my face through the clouds.  I look up and start to reminisce about the good times I’ve had here, but the heat is getting to me. I peel off my jacket before I enter my next lecture. I open the door to see Ellie Williams smirking at me. 

…

PHYS 208: Intermediate Electromagnetism

“I didn’t think you’d be brave enough to take this class. Seems a little too… difficult for you.” 

“Fuck off Ellie. You know I’m just as smart as you.” 

“And I know how much it kills you that you have to work twice as hard to come close to me” 

I laugh. “What kills me is that you think that’s true. I already know you studied for days for Dr. Ramsey’s final when I studied for a couple hours and got practically the same grade” I can feel myself getting flustered. I’ve been wanting to dedicate this semester to kicking her ass, and she can see it. I watch as her cheeks turn red. She knows I see her too. She turns back around in her seat. 

…

The weight of the day feels heavy on my shoulders. I shouldn’t have said that to Ellie. Dina told me in confidence how much time she was dedicating to studying for the exam. I shouldn’t have betrayed her trust just to get back at Ellie. I don’t have much time to waste ruminating on actions. I have work in 20 minutes and a 15 minute walk there. 

…

I work at the tutoring center on campus. I mainly help the underclassmen with the major prerequisite courses like MATH 205 and PHYS 100/107/108. It gives me a sense of fulfillment helping others. I know firsthand how hard these classes are. I probably wouldn’t have survived the first year without the help of the tutoring department. It’s part of the reason why I decided to work here making minimum wage. Plus it’ll make my application to work at Dr. Ramsey’s lab look better. I glance through the windows to get a glimpse of who I'll be working with this semester. I hope Dina and I get the same shifts like last semester. I’m sure you can guess who I see though. Ellie. Fucking. Williams. 

…

I can feel my eyes rolling. I can’t escape her! Everywhere I turn she’s there. First both our classes are together and now she’s working at the tutoring center? This has to be some sick joke. I look up at her and smile. She looks away and sits in a nearby chair. I sit across from her waiting for someone to instruct us on what to do next. I do regret embarrassing her, but she started it. She nearly pushed me down the stairs just to get ahead of me on top of that too. Maybe I shouldn’t feel so bad, but my heart is still pounding as I look up at her again. 

…

The tutoring center supervisor sees us sitting in silence together. She’s nice enough, but her wardrobe is stuck in 2013. I catch myself staring at her oddly patterned top. Ellie notices me staring and gives me a knowing smile. 

“I’m so glad you’re both here! You and Ellie will be our main tutors on Monday, Wednesday, Friday for the core physics class. I think you two are already acquainted” 

“Oh. I thought Dina and I would be doing that again.” 

“Right. I thought you might say that, but with her new course load she’ll be doing Tuesday and Thursday instead.” 

“I see.” 

“You and Ellie are both top of the class! I feel so lucky to have you guys here.” 

I smile and head down to the physics portion of the building. 

…

Ellie is following behind me closely. I’m wondering if maybe she’ll apologize, but I doubt she’d ever do that. We both sit down at our respective desks. I look up at her again. I must’ve hit close to home with my comment. She’s helping someone with their MATH 205 homework. Ellie tucks a piece of her hair behind her ear. She always wears it half up/half down. Despite our rivalry, I admit to myself that it looks good on her. Her complexion is soft and a spread of freckles paints her nose. She gives them a thumbs up as they leave, and they yell to Ellie, “You’re a life-saver!” 

…

After a few hours of no students, I’m getting bored. I can sense the tension between me and Ellie. I think I should say something. 

“Hey Ellie, I think I should apologize for earlier.” 

“Honestly, it’s fine. I’m glad you finally are stepping up in this little game of ours. I needed a little extra motivation to step up my game so I can get the spot in Dr. Ramsey’s lab” 

“God, I knew you were gunning for it too.” 

Ellie gets out of her chair and steps closer to me. She creeps in closely. My heart skips a beat for a second. Fuck this girl will be the death of me. 

She is only inches from my face. My cheeks begin to flush. The anxiety is bubbling up in my chest. My heart is beating so loud I think Ellie might hear it too.

“May the best win” 

…

Oh its fucking on Ellie.

[cloudrunnerscinnamon]

I guess I am back ...

(gif not mine)

Took me a while but here I am again writing fanfiction and fuck me that feels good!

So since I haven't written anything in quite some time – please be gentle. :) It is not perfect but it is a start. Here it goes. Enjoy!

Short, little something about the 12th Doctor and his travel companion. It is very fluffy. What I would imagine to be an almost „normal“ day in the Tardis.

The usual banter

„Well then stop complaining and just read it to me.“ (Y/N) said while she was walking through the many hallways of the Tardis holding a book in her hands. She was on her way to a more comfortable place to rest. She had spent the last half an hour reading, sitting on one of the chairs in the Tardis main console room. However her back had started to ache and she really did want to snuggle in under a blanket now. 

„When you were sitting on the chair I could at least pretend that you were listening to me being all clever. If you go away I got no one to be clever for.“

The Doctor trotted grumpily behind his friend inclined to follower her until he eventually would persuade her to return back to the console room. 

„Oh you poor thing you,“ (Y/N) twirled around while still walking and gave the doctor a puppy dog lock. Her sarcasm wasn’t lost on him at all. 

„I know you just want my attention because you are incapable of enjoying some down time. But I am not - so please just let me read my book in peace and finde someone else to impress.“ Continuing on in her path, (Y/N) heard the Doctor huffing out a loud breath. She smiled to herself. This was them having a good time. Simple, friendly banter mixed with a bit of truth and a piece of spite. 

„What are you reading anyways?“ The Time Lord inquired even though he already knew what (Y/N) was reading. 

He had checked out the title the minute the woman had picked up the book. He had only kept up his monologue about quantum physics and why it should be taught in Kindergarden to make sure she did not realize he was actually just paying attention to her. His mouth had been on auto pilot doing its own thing. Flushing out knowledge which sounded reasonable enough to not make (Y/N) suspicious. The Doctor’s eyes though were roaming over his friend. They had drunk in every detail about her. She had been sitting a little hunched forward, cross-legged on a console room chair and the Doctor knew her neck would hurt later. 

How she delicately held the book, absently running her index finger over the spine. Every other minute one of her hands would pull back a stray strand of hair which had fallen into her vision for the what seemed like the hundredth time. He smiled softly angling his head down a little, turning to the side just a bit so he wouldn’t give himself away. (Y/N)’s expressions were what captured him the most. She could run through so many facial expressions in seconds while reading and she didn’t even know it. 

After The Doctor and (Y/N) had started to travel together he had soon learned that she was an adamant reader. Always carrying a book with her which in fact had come in more handy than he could have thought. Soon he had revealed to her the big library the Tardis had to offer and she had spent countless hours in there since then. 

So to be honest the Doctor adored how much (Y/N) loved reading and was utterly stunned how much happiness it invoked in her. It made him feel like he could also maybe finde simple things that made him happy. It gave him hope and comfort. Nevertheless he would never admit this out loud. The teasing, the raillery and how they would always end up sitting together reading, talking about it, shushing each other when they wanted to make a point. He loved it, he loved her - which was a secret and something he pushed deep down, well away, avoiding the whole subject. 

To answer his question (Y/N) just held the book up over her shoulder. 

„You have read this one at least 3 times!“ The thick Scottish accent of this Doctor’s incarnation couldn’t possibly be more prominent. When he continued (Y/N) had to close her eyes for a second. She would never be able to un-hear that low dark rumble of a voice and it gave her the shivers - the good ones. 

„How can you read that again, it’s not getting any better. Wasn’t really good to begin with and—“

„5 times, I read it 5 times and it’s my favorite so don’t mock it you old grump.“ She said with a twinkle. Another huff from behind her and then she had reached the door to her room. 

The door slide upwards with a silent, swift movement and (Y/N) entered her room. 

It was a while back, when on a whim the Doctor had decided that it was time to give (Y/N) her own room. She had been traveling with him for well over a year and even though the Tardis was good at providing the woman with everything she needed when ever she went looking for it, the Time Lord really wanted to extinguish the thought of her just being a guest. So in addition to a key for the Tardis (Y/N) also had gotten a room. 

It was in itself a relatively large space however a comfortable king-sized bed, a dark green corduroy couch, several shelves filled with books and other stuff, as well as an antique wooden desk and a well-worn armchair made it look very cozy. Somehow the Tardis had managed to build in a big round window which was laid in deep enough so one could sit on the sill and marvel at the stars. A wooden stool was placed under it for better reach and the nook was set up with different sized cushions and blankets. There was no harsh light source, the whole room was illuminated by tiny fairy lights and garlands (Y/N) had hung in different corners and on the ceiling. Over time some of her drawings, keepsakes and other things had made its way onto the walls. There was a small bouquet of flowers, dried now put still carefully placed into a vase upon a small table next to the arm chair. Flowers (Y/N) had collected during one of the many adventures with the Doctor. In a corner by the bed was an old chair, layers of cloth made it almost invisible. Some of them had slit down onto a fluffy large rug. Somehow all of this captured so much of (Y/N)’s character and the space truly had become hers. It filled the Doctor with joy every time he noticed. 

When (Y/N) had just started staying in her own room the Doctor made a point to not enter it. He didn’t want to seem intrusive or else overstepping boundaries so he simply avoided the space all together. But as time passed those boundaries got pushed around and eventually evaporated. It appeared to be that neither the Doctor nor (Y/N) really minded the other in their rooms. Which is why, without hesitation, the Time Lord followed his friend inside. 

(Y/N) went straight for the big couch and crawled onto the shorter side of the L shape. Here she could finally rest her back comfortably against the big cushions and cover herself with that large blanket she had been craving. A happy sigh slipped over her lips and the plain words of her book started to take colorful form in her head. It could have been perfect but a few seconds in and (Y/N) had to avert her gaze from those pages just to see a rather cross Time Lord standing in front of her. His head was tilted to the side and he wore a what you could call a question-mark-expression on his face. It did nothing for him combined with his constantly peeved eyebrows but (Y/N) still smiled and sat up a little more. 

„You are not, you are really not?“ Lost for words, the Doctor in his bewilderment gestured between the room and the door, his hands flying around. 

„You are really going to just sit here and read that book?“ The Doctor pointed at the book as if he was trying to stab it. (Y/N) knew that the Doctor in fact did have a hard time wrapping his head around the concept of just doing nothing or at least not achieving anything, albeit one could argue reading was a great achievement. So she understood, some of this was show, familiarity, daily life with each other but still there was a little truth hidden in the Doctor’s words. He needed her to keep out the loneliness, the dark thoughts and perhaps even memories. The Doctor’s mind was much easier to carry when it was occupied. And most days (Y/N) was happy to oblige. She loved being his companion. One adventure after another, long sleepless nights and so many stories he could tell but some days she simply needed to rest. Catch her breath in someway. „Hey did you just silently insult my book with your finger. Cos I saw that!“ (Y/N) chuckled and rolled her eyes in a fake annoyed manner. She defensively covered the book with her hands mocking him. The Doctor drew in a breath and put his hands on his sides revealing the red lining of his long coat. His signature move, (Y/N) thought and she had to laugh at that. He really was a child sometimes, stomping his feet. 

„Come on now Doc. You have three options here,“ her thumb went up to indicate the different alternatives. 

„Number one: you can either sit down and be quiet,“ second finger joined, „ number two: you can go away do what ever the hell you want or,“ third finger rose, „ number three: and this is my preferred option, you can sit down, snuggle in and read the book to me.“ (Y/N) wiggled her fingers at the Time Lord and shrugged. 

„Your pick.“

To the Doctor there really weren’t three options here, all he truly wanted was to be close to (Y/N). She calmed him, he had figured that out awhile back after they had been traveling together for only a few weeks. Everything around him usually carried some kind of intensity, pressure and he had a tough time ridding himself off that even in the comfort of his Tardis. (Y/N) took that away, she was like a constant that fixed something in him. At first he wasn’t able to accept that. It felt weird to the Doctor that somebody else had such an impact on him but after a while he recognized it as something special. With her around there was no need to go on and keep digging, to keep finding but he never told her that. Old habits die hard and he wasn’t ready to share that knowledge yet. After all he was the Doctor who kept running right? 

Nevertheless (Y/N) did notice that the way the Doctor treated her differed a little from how he carried himself with others. She put it off to all the countless hours they had spent together and them simply being comfortable around each other. Just friends. 

The Doctor grumbled something under his breath and kept lingering in the middle of the room. 

„What was that?“, she asked. Instead of an answer the Doctor took a few long strides towards the Couch. Before (Y/N) could do anything the book was snatched from her hands and with a thud the Doctor plopped down right next to her. He pushed his shoes off putting his feet up and under his companion’s blanket. His left arm came down around (Y/N)’s shoulders and he opened the book at the latest dog-ear. 

„You really have got to stop doing that.“ The Doctor nodded towards the book. „Dog-ears are just horrendous especially for the next reader.“ 

„If you wouldn’t interrupt me so often there’d hardly be any.“ (Y/N) tried to sound offended but she couldn’t hide the smile forming on her lips. She grabbed the Doctor’s hand that was resting on her left arm and squeezed it lightly. His fingers involuntarily interlaced with hers right away and his thumb caressed the back of her hand. This was sweet and surprising. They had been sitting close together before but as of late more often. However it normally didn’t go further than their bodies touching side by side. 

The atmosphere had suddenly changed. The moment came and went and still they were just sitting there quietly, waiting maybe. (Y/N) moved first. She scooted down a little so she could lean more into the Doctor and was able to rest the back of her head on his chest. (Y/N) could feel the rise and the fall of the Time Lord’s breath. Were those thumps his hearts? She couldn’t be sure because her own heart was beating wildly. The Doctor drew in a long breath, he wanted to start reading. As much as he was enjoying the close proximity to (Y/N) he was also scared to give away how much it actually moved him. Reading would at least draw some of his braincells in another direction. He closed his eyes for a second to compose himself, how could he be so nervous? He was The Doctor, the oncoming storm, bringer of darkness and –.  And in the face of feelings remotely in the vicinity of romance he still basically was just a school boy with a crush, tongue tide and clumsy hands. Sensing that the Doctor was hesitating for some reason, (Y/N) turned around a little and peeked up at the Doctor. The look she saw in his eyes startled her. She had seen that kindness and calm before all though hardly ever as unfiltered as it was right then. Yet (Y/N) got a scarce view of something else and it confused her immensely. What was that? (Y/N) let go of the Doctor’s hand and without thinking about it she very softly ran a finger along his face. She started at his hairline slowly tracing it down to his cheekbone, continuing on until she reached the corner of his mouth, drawing a half circle down upon his chin. And before she even realized what she had just done her hand dropped back down lying flat on the Doctor’s chest. 

„I,“ (Y/N)’s voice came out a little raspy and she had to swallow to clear her throat. 

„I thought, I thought I saw, there was something, I…“ She shook her head. 

„Sorry I didn’t mean to just –. How rude of me!“ (Y/N) gained her bearings back and was suddenly very aware of what she had just done. Her face grew red and she felt stupid.

If the Doctor hadn’t been holding his breath before he sure as hell was now. The way she had run her finger down his face and had looked at him while doing so made him speechless. Second time he was lost for words in mere minutes, that’s an accomplishment. All the carefully stored away feelings he harbored for his travel companion came rushing out trying to finally overwhelm him. Well and that was that. It was over, there was no denying it anymore. After all that time and all those rules he put upon himself something just snapped. Fine, here we go then, the Doctor thought. Wrapped up in this huge aha-experience of his, (Y/N) begun to wiggle her way out of there close sitting positions. She didn’t dare look at the Doctor and just wanted to get away. Shocked by the unexpected loss of contact the Doctor panicked a little and dropped the book on the couch He quickly took a hold of (Y/N)s hands. She halted in her movement. Without saying anything the Doctor tucked a little. What he really meant to say was ‚please don’t leave, everything is good. Stay here - with me.‘ but all he managed, owed to his utter lack of being able to say what he really feels, was: 

„Where are you going?“ His voice was soft, no trace of insistence. Silence. They looked at each other. The Doctor didn’t want this to go south, he wanted to save this situation make it go back to where they had been moments ago.Where was time traveling when one really needed it. When (Y/N) clearly wasn’t going to say anything, worse it looked like she still wanted to flee. The Doctor chose to go for chatter. Comfort lies in the known and chatting each others ears off – they knew. 

„So you touched my face, no big deal. Isn’t like you haven’t done that before is it?“ The Doctor tried to sound normal, relaxed even.

„I mean I get it, I am a sight to behold.“ He wiggled his eyebrows and made an upward motion with his hand, flipping long strands of hair around he clearly didn’t have. 

This was funny in itself because this particular regeneration of the Doctor really didn’t think himself handsome or good looking in any way. It had never bothered him too much. However since he felt more and more drawn to (Y/N) in a romantic manner he kind of wished he still was that young, springy, bow-tie version or even the sand-shoed one. 

Finally a small smile on (Y/N)’s lips. Her shoulders relaxed a little too. Just one more for good measure then, the Doctor thought, and we should be reading in no time. 

„Now I haven’t got all day. Do you want me to read this to you or would you rather prefer to map out more of my frowning lines?“ Almost back to her quick-witted self (Y/N) opened her mouth to respond but the Time Lord cut right in. 

„Oh and no I am not doing voices. The last time I did that I had slightly too much red wine and you had broken your fragile human wrist.“ He glared at her one more time smirking and picked the book back up. (Y/N) was moving back into the position she had just left so hasty and slapped the Doctor on his knee. 

„As long as I don’t have to hear anything about quantum physics for the next few weeks I take what I can get, you grouch.“ The Doctor scoffed, giving her a disbelieving look. „I have, you know, on good authority that some people would commit murder to her me lecture about –“ This time (Y/N) went right over the Doctor’s words. 

„Shhh, less talking more reading.“ With that (Y/N) fully leaned back and placed her head on the Doctor’s hearts once more. The Time Lord smiled to himself. When he started to read his thick Scottish accent filled the room, he knew she loved it. 

[demmyfuji]

[waight-gain]

Chapter 1: The Unexpected Encounter

Dylan & Simon

The sun hung lazily in the sky, casting long shadows over the sprawling college campus. Late summer still clung to the air, but the promise of autumn lingered, hidden in the cool morning breeze. The quad buzzed with the energy of a new semester, students milling about in groups, reuniting with friends or navigating the unfamiliar territory of their new environment.

Among the crowd, Dylan Walker stood out like a beacon. At six-foot-three, with broad shoulders, a chiseled jawline, and the kind of easy confidence that only comes from years of being the best at everything he tried, Dylan was the epitome of the college jock. His letterman jacket, worn despite the warmth, clung to his muscular frame, announcing his status on the football team. His dark hair, always perfectly tousled, complemented the piercing blue eyes that made more than a few girls on campus swoon.

Yet, for all his outward bravado, Dylan was feeling a little out of place. It was his sophomore year, but there was a gnawing sense of something missing, something he couldn’t quite put his finger on. The parties, the girls, the camaraderie of the team—it was all great, but none of it filled the void he felt. He hadn’t told anyone, but there were nights when he lay awake, staring at the ceiling, wondering what else was out there, beyond the expectations that everyone had placed on him.

As he cut across the quad, heading toward the student union for his morning coffee, his thoughts were interrupted by a collision that nearly knocked him off balance. He looked down, surprised, and saw a small figure sprawled on the ground, books and papers scattered everywhere.

“Shit, I’m sorry, man,” Dylan said instinctively, reaching out a hand.

The figure on the ground was a stark contrast to Dylan’s imposing presence. He was small, barely reaching Dylan’s shoulder even when standing, with a slight build that suggested more time spent in libraries than in gyms. His light brown hair was tousled, as if he’d been in a hurry, and thick-rimmed glasses sat askew on his nose. He wore a faded, oversized hoodie that seemed to swallow him whole, and his jeans were worn and frayed at the cuffs.

The guy looked up, clearly embarrassed, his face flushing as red as a cherry. He hesitated before taking Dylan’s hand, allowing himself to be pulled to his feet. “N-no, it’s my fault,” he stammered, hastily trying to gather his scattered belongings. “I wasn’t paying attention.”

Dylan crouched down to help, noticing the titles of the books as he handed them over: Advanced Theoretical Physics, Quantum Mechanics, Introduction to Linear Algebra. “Whoa,” Dylan said, impressed. “You must be, like, a genius or something.”

The guy blushed even more, if that was possible, and adjusted his glasses. “I-I don’t know about that,” he muttered, clearly uncomfortable with the attention. “I just… like to study.”

“Dylan,” he said, offering his hand again, this time for a proper introduction.

“Simon,” the smaller guy replied, his hand trembling slightly as he shook Dylan’s.

“So, Simon,” Dylan said, trying to break the awkwardness, “what’s your major? You’re obviously into some heavy stuff.”

“Physics,” Simon replied, the single word laced with a quiet pride. “I’m actually a junior. Got a scholarship, so I’m trying to finish early.”

“Physics, huh? That’s cool. I can barely pass my math classes.” Dylan chuckled, but Simon’s serious expression didn’t change. He nodded, though, as if to acknowledge Dylan’s attempt at humor.

As they finished gathering the last of Simon’s papers, Dylan handed them over, suddenly aware of how close they were standing. He could smell the faint scent of Simon’s shampoo—something clean, like fresh linen—and the way Simon kept avoiding eye contact only made him seem more endearing. It was strange; Dylan had never paid much attention to guys like Simon before. Hell, he’d barely paid attention to anyone outside his usual circle of friends. But there was something about Simon that intrigued him, something in the way his shyness seemed to hide an entire world beneath the surface.

“Well, I guess I’ll see you around,” Simon said, clutching his books to his chest like a shield, clearly eager to escape the situation.

“Yeah, sure,” Dylan replied, watching as Simon walked away, the oversized hoodie making him look even smaller. He found himself still standing there, staring after Simon long after he had disappeared into the crowd, that nagging feeling of something missing now replaced with a sense of curiosity, maybe even excitement.

Without really understanding why, Dylan couldn’t shake the thought of Simon. There was something about the way their worlds had collided—so unexpectedly, so awkwardly—that made him want to see him again.

[blogstandbygo]

New FTH fic!

I'm pleased to present my @fandomtrumpshate gift for @inevitably-johnlocked: "The Skin Over My Heart"

Sherlock and John are still trying to adjust to Sherlock's return from his hiatus when John's friend Bill Murray brings them a case. Someone is targeting the LGBTQA+ members of Bill's unit. John and Sherlock go undercover at the unit, but when they end up having to flirt to flush out the suspect, Sherlock realizes he's in over his head.

This is a mix of two items from I-J's wishlist, and I really hope she likes it!

Also this was beta-ed as a FTH gift by @thegildedbee! How fab is that?!

@missdaviswrites

@fearlessdiva930

@amindamazed

@hubblegleeflower

@pippn-frodo

@quantum-sparrow

@weneedtotalkaboutfilms-blog

@addictedstilltheaddict

@prettyrealisticjohnlockfanart

@daringlydomestic

@totallysilvergirl

@pipmer

@otter-von-bismarck

@shirleycarlton

@onwallsjcfwrites

@shamelessmash

@stellacartography

@keirgreeneyes

@cirquedereve

@seriouslymarythough

@peanitbear

@missdeliadili

@topsyturvy-turtely

@debzwez

@dw91165

@safedistancefrombeingsmart

@lisbeth-kk

@ratherbethedragon

@thegirlfromthesouth

@mxster-jocale

@ohnoesnotagain

@whodwantmeasaflatmate

@copperplatebeech

@macgyvershe

@rudithewarrior

@allthelovelybitsandpieces

@br-nz

@keirgreeneyes

@whatnext2020

@beebrevisionist

@helloliriels

@ehuether

[ddarker-dreams]

HngnGNhnngn thinking about. scarlet ribbons and how unused the members of bucciarati's gang are to being doted on. or just cared for in the slightest really. all of them have experienced being cast aside at some point or another. that's why your kindness shines through like blinding rays, engulfing them with warmth that makes them realize just how cold they've been all along.

for giorno, it's reminding him that he doesn't have to be the infallible don of passione around you. giorno giovanna wears so many masks that he sometimes forgets his true face — if such a fabled countenance exists any longer. he always needs to be three steps ahead of both his allies and his enemies. this habit would exhaust anyone else, yet he's so used to it by now, that the weariness is mistaken for normalcy. you maneuver past the cracks in his façade and remind him that a person still exists behind the innumerable walls he's built up. without your reminders, it's likely he would forget. it takes time and diligence on your part. however, piece by piece, he'll reveal to you a more vulnerable self than he's never shown anyone else. in the dead of night, he'll quietly admit his fears. you don't need to present him any solutions, you just need to listen, hearing him out and withholding judgment. the resulting lightness where heavy pressure once oppressed his chest amazes him. you amaze him. you become his lifeline as much as he's been yours.

for fugo, it's simply engaging in his interests. his enthusiasm for learning never disappeared. he's been shut down in the past, his ability to quickly grasp the most complex subjects at a young age earned no shortage of envy from his older peers. due to this, they never cared to engage him in conversation on academics. consequently, his mind is buzzing with things to say that he figured no one would ever care to hear. when you don't just inquire what book he's reading, but really dig in with some specific questions, he can barely contain his excitement. you might not understand astrophysics or quantum mechanics but the way he lights up at your genuine investment is beyond endearing. by the time he finishes his explanation, he'll flush, murmuring an apology for getting carried away on something you likely could care less about. you adamantly refute this claim. he's at a loss. especially now, as you scoot next to him, pointing to some term he briefly mentioned and asking if he wouldn't mind expanding on it further. he has to bite down on his lower lip to stop the toothy grin that threatens to overwhelm his features.

for bruno, it's asking if he's been remembering to take care of himself. whether or not he answers in truth is subject to chance, since he doesn't want to worry you. still, if he brushes off your concern, guilt travels through his system like a poison and is expelled only when he confesses that he can't remember the last time he slept for more than five hours. your worry transcends anything he expected. you don't just give him a sorrowful glance and murmur how unfortunate that is, no, you act. advocating for his well-being when he's always considered it a second-rate concern. you're beside yourself, flitting to and fro, making the necessary arrangements for him to properly relax. he offers the slightest resistance just to relish in the guilty pleasure of how indignant you get for his sake. it's adorable, you're adorable, and if his heart was anymore full with love, it might burst. he scoops you up once you've finished lecturing him for not attending to his health and insists you'll be his personal remedy.

(nara, mista and abba under the cut)

for narancia, it's enjoying a homecooked meal. the poor boy grew up food insecure. even now that he has a job and livable income, he still mostly sustains himself off restaurant leftovers and takeout. when you make a point of asking what he's had to eat so far that day and he responds with something like a bag of chips or a slice of cold pizza, he doesn't understand your aghast expression. from his perspective, that's a solid diet, considering he used to rummage through trashcans for scraps. when you're still in your roommate era with fugo, you go against his wishes and start inviting narancia over often. you've become acquainted with some folk willing to share the produce their gardening hobby yields. narancia is in pure awe at the sight of freshly squeezed orange juice and waffles made from scratch on the first morning you had him over for breakfast. gobbles it down despite fugo chastising his poor manners. narancia becomes a regular at your doorstep after that point, pitching in to help with groceries. you teach him how to make some staples and he eagerly soaks in the knowledge. he thinks you're an absolute beauty with your little apron, shining and radiant.

for mista, it's just being down to vibe. he's a chill dude with a curious mind. the other guys tend to groan when mista introduces his wild hypotheticals or strange questions, so when you reciprocate his enthusiasm, he knows he's found his soulmate. wants to propose to you right then and there. it goes both ways, too. you could chat for hours about the most inane things and he'd find it absolutely riveting. time flies by unnoticed when the two of you get together. the sun will be high in the sky when he asks you about aliens and it'll be night when you ask him which animal he thinks is the most catholic. it's no exaggeration to say you're his best friend. whenever he calls you, he does that thing where he twists the phone cord with his finger. he's smitten and he has no complaints. mista couldn't get tired of you if he tried, you both just gel together perfectly.

for abbacchio, it's showing up at his dingy apartment uninvited and breathing life into the desolate space. he doesn't even remember giving you a key. regardless, here you are, chastising him for his empty fridge and swearing that you'll shrivel up and die if he doesn't go grocery shopping with you. he rolls his eyes, calls you dramatic, yet concedes anyway. he always does if you're the one insisting. you're not exactly rolling in cash but you purchase little trinkets that make his home, well, a home. a framed picture of the two of you by the bay. a candle for the kitchen windowsill that has a scent you know he's partial to. matching frog mugs that he swears he finds unsightly (he doesn't). a welcome mat, an ornate mirror found at a thrift shop, this pink blanket that feels as soft as a cloud. abbacchio's particularly fond of that last one, since it smells like you. what used to be four walls with a roof is now this vibrant space that screams you at every corner. he might grumble about your unsolicited redecorating but he wouldn't have it any other way.

[sp0ckism]

Quantum Leap, "Star-Crossed" [1.03] + "To Flush, My Dog," Elizabeth Barrett Browning, 1843 + Quantum Leap, "One Strobe Over the Line" [3.04]

[lifeofpriya]

person a is talking shit to person b and person b is completely engaged.

^ "yeah, and so person c did this and it literally shocked... everyone." "you're kidding. i thought they said that they didn't like that guy." "that's what i thought too!!!"

from Love is Like a Lottery bc what I would GIVEEE to have gossip time w jack omg!

ughhhh, i just want to have a lil gossip sesh with Jack, is that too much to ask for 😭😩

Engaged and Amused

wc: 2.5k

"I just had the most dramatic day," you start, plopping down on the couch beside Jack, your cheeky grin spreading wider as you watch the excitement flicker in his eyes. "You wouldn't believe it if I told you."

Jack, ever the attentive listener, sets aside his tennis racket and turns towards you, his gaze fully engaged. "Come on, spill it," he says, his voice filled with genuine curiosity. His forehead is beaded with sweat from his intense training session, and his cheeks are flushed with the exertion of it all. The way his athletic body leans in, eager for the story, is a testament to the bond you two share.

You take a dramatic pause, relishing the anticipation. "So, I was at class today, right?" You lean in, your voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, as if you're about to share a secret that could shake the very foundations of the tennis world. "And there's this guy in my class that has a crush on one of my friends, and he's so awkward it's painful to watch."

Jack chuckles, his eyes lighting up with amusement. "Sounds like a sitcom plot," he says, reaching for his water bottle to take a sip. The condensation on the plastic leaves a wet trail on his fingers as he puts it down.

"But wait, it gets better," you continue, your voice rising with the excitement of the story. "He tripped over his own feet when she walked by, and let's just say his dignity took a nosedive faster than my GPA when I took quantum mechanics."

Jack laughs, the sound deep and rich. His eyes crinkle at the edges as he imagines the scene you're painting. He's always loved your way of telling stories, the way you manage to find humor in the most mundane of situations. "What did she do?"

You mimic the shocked face of your friend. "Well, she was obviously mortified. She tried to help him up, but she ended up falling over too." You start to giggle, the kind that makes your eyes water. "It was like a domino effect of awkwardness."

Jack laughs harder now, his body shaking with the force of it. He wipes at his eyes with the back of his hand. "So, what happened next?" he asks, his voice a bit raspy from the exertion of his laughter.

You sit up, your own giggles subsiding. "Yeah, and so she did this awkward half-laugh, half-scream thing, you know?" You put a hand to your chest, mimicking her. "And it literally shocked everyone into silence."

Jack nods, his eyes still twinkling with amusement. "What did he say?"

You lean back into the couch, propping your feet up on the coffee table. "The poor guy just looked up at her, his face a mix of embarrassment and hope. He mumbled something about the floor being slippery, but it was so obvious it was just nerves."

Jack nods, his eyes sparkling. "Classic," he says, shaking his head. "What'd she say?"

You smirk, enjoying the suspense. "Well, she's a bit of a drama queen herself. She looked down at him, all wide-eyed and said, 'Oh my god, are you okay?' in this high-pitched voice. It was like watching a scene from a bad rom-com."

"You're kidding! I thought she said she didn't like that guy," Jack says, raising an eyebrow.

"That's what I thought too! But apparently, she's had a soft spot for him all along. They've been playing this awkward dance of denial and attraction for weeks," you reply, shaking your head in amazement. "But today was the breaking point."

Jack's eyes widen in surprise. "Did something happen between them?"

You nod, your smirk growing. "Yeah, she finally admitted it. In the middle of the class. It was like a scene from a movie, except with more textbooks and less slow-motion."

Jack's eyes go wide. "No way." He leans in closer, his elbows resting on his knees. "How did that go?"

You grin, the memory of the moment still fresh in your mind. "It was like watching a car crash, but in a good way." You laugh, the sound bouncing off the walls of his sleek, modern living room. "So, she helps him up, and everyone's just staring at them. And then, she whispers something in his ear."

Jack's curiosity is palpable, his body leaning towards you like he's about to miss the next serve at Wimbledon. "What did she whisper?"

"Well," you start, drawing out the word, "she said, 'Maybe we should go grab coffee together after this, you know, to talk about how clumsy we both are?' And his face, oh my god, it was priceless."

Jack leans back, his own laughter subsiding. "What was his reaction?"

You giggle again, remembering the moment vividly. "He looked like he'd just won the lottery. His cheeks turned red, and he stuttered something incoherent before nodding so fast it looked like he had a neck spasm." You mimic the gesture, your head bobbing up and down rapidly.

Jack laughs, his eyes warm with affection for your friend's newfound romance. "That's adorable," he says, a smile tugging at his lips.

You nod, feeling a strange mix of happiness for your friend and a pang of jealousy that you can't quite explain. "It was," you agree, trying to keep your voice light. "But also super awkward. You should've seen the rest of us trying to pretend we weren't watching."

Jack's smile softens, and he reaches over to squeeze your hand gently. "I'm sure it was," he says, his thumb rubbing comforting circles on your palm. "What was the professor's reaction?"

You laugh, feeling the warmth of his touch spread through you. "The professor? Oh, she just sighed and said, 'Could you two possibly find a more appropriate time to declare your love?' It was so dry, the whole room cracked up."

Jack chuckles, squeezing your hand back before releasing it. "Well, at least they have the support of the class."

"Yeah, it's like everyone's been waiting for it to happen," you say, smiling wistfully. You look around the room, taking in the minimalist decor, the floor-to-ceiling windows overlooking the lush garden, and the faint scent of freshly cut grass that lingers in the air from his earlier practice sessions.

Jack nods, his eyes still focused on you, the intensity of his gaze making your cheeks warm. "So, what did you do after that?" he asks, his voice gentle.

"Well, we all kind of just went back to our seats, and the class carried on like nothing happened," you say, your smile fading slightly as you think of the rest of the class. "But the tension was so thick, you could've cut it with a knife. It was weird, you know? Being part of something so… public and private at the same time."

Jack nods, his expression understanding. He knows what it's like to have the world watch his every move on the tennis court, to have moments of triumph and defeat play out in front of thousands of people. "I bet it was," he says, his voice gentle.

You take a deep breath, the reality of your friend's public confession sinking in. "It's funny, isn't it? How life can throw these curveballs at you?"

Jack nods, his gaze still on you, his eyes searching. "Yeah, it can be. But it's moments like those that make life interesting."

You nod, your heart skipping a beat as his hand reaches for yours again, his grip firm but not overpowering. "You're right," you say, feeling a sudden sureness in his presence. "Life is full of surprises, like you being here right now, listening to my ridiculous stories."

Jack's smile turns affectionate, his thumb tracing patterns on the back of your hand. "I wouldn't miss them for the world," he says, his eyes never leaving yours. The silence that follows isn't uncomfortable but filled with a gentle buzz of understanding.

You lean into his side, feeling the warmth radiate from his body, the scent of his sweat and the faint hint of his cologne. "You know what's the best part of the day?" you ask, your voice barely above a whisper.

Jack looks at you, his eyes questioning. "What's that?"

"It's this," you say, turning to face him fully, your heart pounding like a drum in your chest. You lean closer, until your foreheads are almost touching. "It's you being here, listening to me, making me laugh. It's the best part of every day."

Jack's smile softens, and his eyes search yours for a moment before he leans in and kisses you, his lips gentle but firm. It's a kiss that speaks volumes without uttering a single word, a promise of more to come. You melt into him, feeling his arms wrap around you, pulling you closer. The couch cushions muffle your sigh of contentment.

When you pull back, you're both grinning like fools. "I love you," you murmur, your eyes still locked on his.

Jack's smile widens, his eyes darkening slightly. "I love you too," he says, his voice a low rumble that sends shivers down your spine.

You both sit there for a moment, basking in the warmth of the moment, the story of your friend's awkward confession fading into the background. Jack's hand is still in yours, his thumb rubbing gentle circles on your skin, sending sparks of pleasure shooting through your body. You can feel your heart racing, and your cheeks are flushed.

"So, how was your day?" you ask, changing the subject and hoping to ease the sudden tension that has settled between you like a thick fog.

Jack's grin turns into a full-fledged smile, his eyes lighting up. "My day was good," he says, his voice low and warm.

"Just good?" you ask, teasing him. You know he's been a bit stir-crazy, cooped up at home due to an abdominal injury.

Jack's smile turns into a playful smirk. "Well, it was alright until you showed up and started telling me about your friend's dramatic escapades. Now, it's definitely looking up."

You roll your eyes, but you can't help the blush that creeps up your neck. "Oh, please. Like you don't have any awkward moments on the court."

Jack laughs, leaning back into the couch cushions. "Fair point," he concedes, his eyes glinting. "But at least my blunders don't involve confessing my feelings in front of a room full of people."

"True," you admit, snuggling closer to him. His arm wraps around you, pulling you in tight. The warmth of his embrace feels like a sanctuary, a place where you can tell him anything. "But hey, at least you're not stuck in a classroom all day."

Jack chuckles, his breath ruffling your hair. "I'd take a boring classroom over a physiotherapist's office any day," he says, his tone light but tinged with a hint of frustration. His injury has been a sore spot, a constant reminder that he's not invincible.

You lift your head from his chest, looking at him with concern. "You'll be back on the court soon, I know it," you say, trying to reassure him. You know how much tennis means to him, how much he lives and breathes it.

Jack's expression turns serious, his gaze dropping to the floor. "I hope so," he murmurs, his voice tight. "I just hate feeling like this, like I'm stuck, like I can't do what I love."

You lean in and kiss his cheek, feeling the stubble prickle against your lips. "You're not stuck," you whisper, your voice firm. "You're just healing. And when you're back, you'll be better than ever."

Jack looks up, his eyes meeting yours. For a moment, you see the vulnerability hidden beneath his usually stoic exterior. It's a side of him you don't often get to see, but when he lets you in, it's like peeling back layers of an onion, each one more raw and real than the last. "Thanks," he murmurs, his thumb still drawing lazy circles on your hand.

The silence stretches between you, filled with the quiet comfort that comes from truly knowing someone. You both know that his injury has been weighing on him, but you're not one to push when he's not ready to talk. Instead, you let the gentle rhythm of his touch speak for itself.

After a few moments, Jack clears his throat. "So, tell me something good that happened today," he says, his voice a little rougher than usual.

You think back over the day, sifting through the mundane and the dramatic. "Well," you begin, a smile playing on your lips, "I got to spend more time with the love of my life, who also happens to be an amazing listener."

Jack's eyes brighten, his grip on your hand tightening slightly. "That's always a win," he says, his voice filled with warmth.

You nod, feeling your heart swell with affection for him. "Yeah, it really is," you reply, your voice soft. You lean your head on his shoulder, watching as the setting sun casts a warm glow over the room. The shadows lengthen and the light dances over the walls, painting them with a soft, golden hue.

Jack's eyes follow yours, his expression thoughtful. "You know, I've been thinking," he starts, his voice a little hesitant. "Maybe this injury isn't all bad."

You sit up a little straighter, looking at him with surprise. "What do you mean?"

Jack shrugs, his eyes still on the changing light. "I mean, it's given me a chance to slow down. To spend more time with you, to appreciate the little things." He glances down at your hand in his, the way your fingers interlock perfectly. "I've been going at a hundred miles an hour for so long, I never really had the time to just…be."

You look at him, really look at him, and see the exhaustion that the injury has brought him. But there's also a spark of something new, something you haven't seen before. It's as if this setback has allowed him to catch his breath, to appreciate the moments that don't come with the roar of a crowd or the smack of a tennis ball.

"I get it," you say softly, understanding dawning. "Sometimes we all need a little break, even if it's not how we want it." You stroke his arm, feeling the muscles tense and relax beneath your touch.

Jack nods, his eyes still focused on the shifting shadows. "Exactly," he says, his voice a bit louder now. "And who knows, maybe this is just the universe's way of telling me to pay more attention to you."

You laugh, feeling a warmth spread through your chest. "Or maybe it's telling us both to take a breather."

Jack looks down at you, his gaze intense. "Yeah," he agrees, his thumb stroking the back of your hand. "Maybe it is."

The room is bathed in the warm, golden light of the setting sun, casting a serene glow over the pair of you on the couch. You both sit there in silence for a moment, listening to the distant chirping of the birds and the occasional rustle of the leaves in the garden. It's a stark contrast to the chaos of his usual tennis-filled days, but somehow, it feels more intimate.

[marinawolf]

Home- a cute little #supercorp one shot.

Kara watches Lena talk about an invention and realises she is in love with her. First Kiss.

(also- send through any supercorp oneshot requests!)

Lena Luthor's blue-green eyes sparkled with excitement as she stood in her lab, eagerly explaining her latest invention to Kara Danvers. Her hands moved animatedly, accentuating her words, while Kara watched with a mix of admiration and a newfound realization dawning within her.

"And then, Kara, with the integration of quantum computing and nanotechnology, we can achieve unparalleled efficiency and precision! Can you imagine the impact this could have?"

Lena's voice filled the air, her enthusiasm contagious as she spoke about the possibilities her invention held. But for Kara, something else was building within her. It was a realization that went beyond friendship, beyond admiration— a realization she couldn't ignore any longer.

She was in love with Lena Luthor.

"But obviously, this will come with some complications." Lena rambled on, "Public backlash at first. I mean, a Luthor is not the most trusted person in the world, right? But that doesn't matter right now- the results will speak for itself. I just need to get the right people on board and--"

Watching Lena, excited and flushed, a side of her usually hidden from the world, Kara's heart raced with a newfound urgency. She couldn't let this moment slip away. With a surge of courage, Kara reached out, gently placing her hand on Lena's arm to halt her words.

"Lena," Kara interjected, her voice barely above a whisper, "stop."

Confusion flickered across Lena's face, but Kara didn't give her a chance to speak. Instead, she closed the remaining distance between them, capturing Lena's lips in a soft, tender kiss. It was a declaration, a revelation of feelings that had been brewing within Kara for far too long.

Lena's eyes widened in surprise, her rambling words silenced. Kara's heart pounded in her chest as she realized the gravity of the moment. She had just kissed Lena, and now everything hung in the balance.

"I-I'm sorry," Kara stammered, pulling away. She took a step back, her eyes searching Lena's face for a reaction. "I shouldn't have done that. I'll just... I'll leave."

But before Kara could make her escape, Lena's hand shot out, gripping her cape and preventing her from leaving. Kara's eyes widened, meeting Lena's electrifying gaze filled with a mix of surprise, hope, and something else—love.

"No," Lena whispered fiercely, her voice laced with determination. She pulled Kara back towards her, their bodies colliding. With a newfound intensity, Lena kissed Kara again, their lips moving in perfect harmony, igniting a fire within both of them.

The kiss was electric, filled with the weight of their unspoken feelings, and a profound sense of relief washed over Kara. She had never felt safer, more cherished than in this moment. The world could be burning around them, the storms raging, but Kara would gladly succumb to it all if it meant she could stay in Lena's arms.

In losing her planet, Kara had believed she had lost her home, but in that moment, she discovered that home was never a place, but a person. Lena was her home.

xoxo

MarinaWolf