Fantasyfreak38 - Whateves I Find

I made a little tune but I didn’t know what to use it for. So. I made this.

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Just a Taste 18+

Summary: You don’t like pirates but when Shanks and his crew change your mind you can’t help but want to explore and you’re not talking about the sea.

Devil Fruit : Poison food / drink - ( Users can turn any food/drink they make into poison when they choose.  Even if the victims get themselves to throw up the poison, when ingested it becomes like a glue that lines your stomach preventing it from exiting your body ) *I will be using this in other works*

Warnings: 18+!! female reader! double penetration! Threesome! Pet names! Manhandling! Praise and degradation kink! Dirty talk! Flirting! Oral sex (f receiving)! Vaginal & Anal penetration! Reader has a devil fruit and it makes Shanks mad! Pussy spanking! 

Pairings: Shanks x fem!reader x Benn 

Words: 9K (it was for a writing challenge lol can't believe I managed to write this much it's been a while sorry if the smut is bad!)

You owned the only bar on the whole island, no other supplier of alcohol anywhere to be found and everyone on the island knew why and none complained. You were the silent protector that they needed, years of being robbed by stupid pirates, even watching your parents become victims to their dumb conquests. You wanted so badly to run away from the island but instead you stayed, making it your life’s mission to rid the world of as many cruel pirates as you could, one meal at a time. 

It was another regular day with the locals drinking and eating some of your great cooking when a young boy burst through the doors, “Y/N! Y/N! There’s pirates docking at the shore!” He was out of breath wearing swim shorts, clearly seeing them sail in from a morning of playing at the beach when the pirates appeared. You came over to him with your hands up and a gentle smile on your face, “Easy hon, breath. Remember you don’t have to be scared anymore. Just head on home and ring the bell on your way there, okay.” Giving you a quick nod, he rushes out of the bar along with the locals who give you a smile and a pat on your back. 

“Go get those filthy pirates!” 

“Yeah we can always count on you!” Another shouted on their way out making you smile as you shook your head at their silly antics. You were only in your mid twenties and it took a long time for everyone to trust your abilities since they all knew you since you were a child. After taking down one pirate crew all by yourself without lifting a finger though they knew they were in good hands, leaving all the pirates to you after that. So you casually clean up the bar and start wiping down the counters completely unphased by all the pirates that were coming up the hill. 

Shanks marched up the hill with his crew in tow behind him, his eyes scanning around the town with curiosity. “It’s like a ghost town.” Benn at his right hummed beside him in agreement, his body itching as he cautiously looked around. “Think it’s a trap?” He asked quietly, making Shanks raise a brow as he looked around spotting no one outside. 

“Not sure-” Shanks replies with a nod of his head pointing in the direction of a bar, carrying on after, “but there’s a bar.” Smirking Shanks decides to lead the way towards the bar that he planned on drinking dry. If no one was in the town, maybe the bar was empty as well. Walking closer to the old looking bar Shanks finally noticed you sitting in a chair by the door, your legs crossed as you sipped from a bottle of rum. A wide grin painting his face as his eyes scanned your body, you wore ripped tight jeans with heeled boots and a loose sweater that was off one shoulder, your hair pulled into a ponytail. 

“Hello gentlemen, what can I do for ya?” You smile before you downed more of your rum, not missing the way Shanks eyes practically sparkle as he looks at you. Shanks waves a hand at you as he heads your way, “Well hello darling, I’m just looking for a place my men and I could get a bite to eat and a drink.” He takes a glance into the empty bar before looking back at you with a charming smile. “You wouldn’t mind would’ya doll?” Smiling, you stand up and head inside with the men following you close behind, “Right this way boys~” You tease with a sway of your hips, Shanks glancing at Benn with a wink and a grin. 

Shanks crew waltz in taking seats at the table as Shanks and Benn follow you over to the bar watching as you go behind and start putting full bottles on the top for them to grab. “You must’ve had a long journey so please enjoy.” You smile politely making the men cheer as they start grabbing the bottles with excitement. “Very generous of you darling but I have to ask…where is everyone?” Shanks asks you as you give him and Benn a bottle. You wave your hand with a laugh, “Oh don’t worry about that love, they just get a little scared that’s all.” Your arms crossing against the bar as you lean over to distract them with an eyeful of your breast, “So~ do you handsome men wanna bite?” Benn and Shanks both couldn’t help the smirk that crossed on their faces as they both replied in unison, “Absolutely.”

A few hours passed, all the men happy in the bar with full tummies and fuzzy brains as the alcohol kept coming. You learned that they ran out of supplies faster than they intended and needed a good restock which made you wonder if after all this if they would raid your town. Your thoughts halted when Shanks leaned back in his seat with a sigh and a wide grin, “Whew! Jeez doll I gotta say- that’s the best meal I’ve had in a while!” Benn gives a nod as he lights his cigarette, “Yeah we might have to stay awhile.” Benn’s joke makes your chest tight and fist clench but you just give a smile. You let them all have as much beer, alcohol and food as they pleased before the real fun began. 

“Is anyone else on your ship? Maybe they’d like to have a meal as well.” You smile politely so you don’t seem suspicious instead trying to sound as sweet as possible. “Ah just one guy- man he would be jealous if he found out how good everything is.” Shanks drunkenly admits as he slaps Benn’s arm who only smokes his cigarette used to his captain’s antics. “Well in that case here you go.” You say as you make a large container of food for someone to take to that last remaining person. “Maybe someone could bring him some while it’s still hot. A gift for you all being so respectful.” Your pretty smile just puts Shanks in a trance so strong he shouts for someone to deliver the food to the last crewmate on the ship. “Hey Rockstar, be a pal and go bring this food to LimeJuice will ya?” 

“UGH~ fine I guess.” You see the man smile drunkenly as he stumbles over to take the food and deliver it to his crewmate. “Thank you hon.” You wink and watch as he leaves on his task with a wide grin. You waited about thirty minutes, which should’ve been enough time for the man named Rockstar to deliver the meal. You hoped they ate it quickly because you were starting to get antsy with the way these two guys were eyeing you. Yeah they were attractive but they were pirates, drunk ones at that, and it was only a matter of time before they started taking what they wanted.

“I gotta be honest with ya darlin… You are gorgeous.” Shanks tells you in a lustful voice as he leans closer over the bar and you put a hand to his chest shoving him roughly back in his seat. “Sit the fuck down pirate!” The way you bite out the word has Shanks sober up quickly, there was venom in your voice now, it was unmistakable. 

Shanks stood up with a smirk on his face, he must’ve thought you were joking, you scuffed as you pointed at him, “Don’t even think about grabbing that sword of yours you’re already a deadman.” You step back as you grab your own bottle of rum downing a sip, before you give him a smirk, “Same with the rest of your crew.”  Shanks' expression dropped to something more serious. “Easy darlin. How about you tell me what’s going on first? I thought we were having a good time.” Benn stands up with a cloud of smoke and you just know his fingers are itching to shoot you if anything goes wrong, but even a bullet to the head isn’t faster than you. 

“Tch! Yeah right! Me? Having a good time with a pirate? Ha that’ll be the day! Pirates are nothing more than lowlife scum, murdering whoever they please with no remorse, not even caring if they have children or not!” Your explanation is laced with hate and pain that makes Shanks frown, you see pity in his eyes which makes you snap even more. “Don’t look at me like that!”

“Like what sweetheart?” His voice was so…so kind and tender, like he wanted to just come over and wrap you in his arms, it pulled at your heartstrings and you didn’t understand why. 

“Like…like you pity me or something! I don’t need pity from some dumbass pirate!” You shout and Shanks only gives you a small smile. “Who did it?” 

What the hell does he even mean, is he asking who killed your parents? Why the hell would that matter to him? 

“It’s alright doll you can tell me.”

“I-I don’t know. I just know they were pirates, one of them had on these dumb ass blue boots. They burned more than half this town and killed my family. Ugh! It doesn’t matter who did it. What matters is that you’re all poisoned already!” 

Benn scowled as he looked at you, the trust he gained while drinking with you slipping like sand in the palm of your hand. “What poison?” 

“It’s my devil fruit.”  You start to explain and Shanks only shakes his head in what looks like disappointment but you didn’t care, kind of. “Any food or drink I lay my hands on becomes a poison but even if you make yourself throw up the poison acts like a glue that sticks to the lining of your belly. If I want to I can activate the poison causing you all to die quickly, but if you all leave this island now without causing any damage or harm I’ll let you all go. Get your supplies somewhere else and leave us alone.” 

“We didn’t mean any trouble…honestly darlin that ain’t really our speed.” Shanks’ smirk made you frustrated and you clenched your fists that rested at your sides. “Do you think I’m some kind of joke or something?” You snap and Shanks just shakes his head as he sits down. “Not at all darling, in fact I think you’re smart for not trusting us. I mean… we are pirates after all. I love seeing people protect what they care about. This town is lucky to have someone so fearless such as yourself.” Shanks grabs the bottle he was drinking and continues to chug it making your eyes widen in shock. 

Why was he still drinking it even though you told him you could turn it to poison?

“What are you doing?” You question in disbelief, the gears in your brain stalling as you notice the others in the back sit down again after seeing their captain’s calm demeanor. They weren’t scared, usually when you tell pirates they’re already poisoned they just leave or you have to kill them, but these guys just carried on like nothing happened. You even notice the man who Shanks told you was named Lucky Roux kept eating too. “Shanks! What are you doing I just told you-”

“I heard what you said sweetheart…I just …don’t care.” Shanks says as he downs the rest of the bottle, nodding his chin over to the others you had behind the bar. “Like I told you already pretty, we’re just here to buy supplies. Got the money to pay for it too.” 

“You…plan on paying?” Your shocked dumbfounded expression is adorable to the older men and they just smirk at you. “Yup.” Shanks grins as Benn follows in his captain’s footsteps by chugging his bottle as well before sliding it toward you empty. Taking another drag of his cigarette to speak with a cloud of smoke encircling him, “Go ahead and grab us another bottle baby doll 'cause we ain’t even close to drunk yet.” 

You swallow a lump in your throat, so confused on what to do, because as much as you wanted them to leave they just made you so curious. Why do these pirates act so differently from the rest? 

“Come on princess, we're getting thirsty.” Benn says snapping you out of your own thoughts and you grab the good bottle of rum you’ve been stashing then pour three shots, one for each of you cause you damn sure need it. “Cheers! To being poisoned!” Shanks cheers as he throws back his shot, the rest of his crew erupting in shouts and laughter as they take a sip of their drinks as well. You quickly have to refill your glass because this is so not what you expected when you had the town rush to their homes in hiding. 

“So darling is that why the town’s hiding. Are you like the protector? You get everyone to stay in their house while they leave you here to poison whoever steps foot in this place?” Shanks asks after taking another shot which you refill in under a few seconds. You give a head nod, your eyes staring at the bar top not wanting to make eye contact at those mesmerizing eyes any longer. He should be dead but for some reason you can’t seem to do it, something about him just didn’t feel like the others you’ve encountered. “Very noble of you doll.”

“What happens if I put a bullet between your eyes?” Benn says catching you by surprise and it makes your head snap up to stare at him. From this distance you wouldn’t have the time to snap your fingers which activates the poison, you weren’t gonna tell him that but from the look on your face he knew he had you cornered. “Just curious baby.” Benn smirks to keep you on your toes. 

“You’re too pretty to get your brains blown out.” Shanks winks, “Like I keep saying we’re just here for fun and supplies.” You give another nod and go to fill Benn’s glass when suddenly you hear a loud scream come from outside that causes you to drop the bottle, golden rum spilling out. Gasping as you rush outside, your face morphing into one of horror as you see fire in the distance. 

“PIRATES!” You hear people screaming and see the little boy from earlier running toward you, now wearing his pajamas, tears in his eyes. “I thought you took care of them!” He yells at you but then his eyes go big as Shanks and his crew step out of the bar hearing all the commotion. “You! It must be the two that you left on your ship!” You shout back and Shanks just shakes his head.

 “Ain’t no way doll. Look.” He points behind you in the opposite direction of his ship to the other end of the island. “The fires coming from over there doll, has to be another crew that just sailed in. We would’ve seen my men pass your door in order to get all the way over there. Besides my men and I don’t just start fires. You poisoned me and I still haven’t killed you.” 

You want to be angry at him but know that’s not the logical response so you only look back at the boy, “Where are your parents?” His eyes water and you just pull him close. “Listen to me, now is not the time to cry, okay? You need to go back to your parents and hide somewhere safe.” 

“O-okay!” He cries and runs back towards his home. Shanks catches your attention by putting a hand to your shoulder. “Hey darlin if you need a hand say the word.” You don’t know what to do as you stare at the town spreading in a fire, people running out of their homes and away from the danger. You hear gunfire in the distance getting louder and louder and your heart beats like a drum in your ears. You feel your hands shaking, your chest tight like you’re going to pass out until Benn comes to you on your other side. “You can trust us.” 

“But you’re …”

“Pirates. I know. So let the blood be on our hands.” Shanks smiles kindly as you look at him, finally you give a small nod after some thinking. “Head inside for me darling. Don’t want your pretty eyes seeing my dark side or it might ruin the rest of the night.” You follow his gentle command and occupy yourself with cleaning up the bar, picking up all the empty bottles that littered the tables. Your devil fruit was useless in combat if someone wasn’t willing to take a break to drink or eat something real quick. Chaos like right now only made you shake with anxiety as all you could do was standby and hope that you could actually trust these pirates but that’s what they were…pirates. 

You had the bar spotless from top to bottom in a few hours, the place smelling of a fresh pot of beef stew that you cooked on the stove. It grew low when Shanks and his crew almost ate the whole thing so you got started on a new batch just in case. You always liked to have a fresh batch just in case you have to use your powers on someone. You sat down on a bar seat and poured yourself a large shot, your buzz from early long gone unfortunately. 

“Awe~ drinking without us doll? I thought we had something special.” Shanks joked as he stepped inside along with Benn trailing closely behind. “You’re back?” You didn’t mean for your voice to sound so doubtful but what can you do? 

“Yeah sorry to disappoint you.” Benn smirks making you raise your hands in apology, “No I meant -”

“Easy darlin’ we’re just messin around. It’s all taken care of so don't worry that pretty head of yours.” Benn winks and you slowly sit back down with a question. “Where’s everyone else?” Shanks gives a sigh as he sits beside you along with Benn, both men caging you in. You felt the warmth radiating off of them and it made your body heat up in a slightly different way than you were used to. You’ve had sex before but never with anyone as attractive as these two men that towered over you. Or as dangerous. 

Benn leans over the bar and grabs a bottle and sets it down in front of you winking at Shanks who wore a big grin. The red haired man took the initiative to speak with a chipper tone, “So for saving you how about we play a little game?” 

“What kind of game?” You ask as you lean over and grab some shot glasses, both men taking the opportunity to stare at your ass and lower back that is exposed a bit from your shirt rising. Benn turned to face you with a smirk as his Captain did the same, “Oh simple, just twenty questions but we’ll make it interesting.” 

“Oooh take a shot whenever we want to pass?” You suggest and the two men chuckle, Shanks shrugging his shoulder, “I was gonna suggest removing a piece of clothing but if you wanna take a shot sure.” You burst out laughing and can't help the heat that rushes to your face, “Oh my gosh! I try to poison you all and yet you’re trying to see me naked?”

Benn holds up his hands with a smirk, “What can we say? We like 'em a little crazy.” 

“It makes the sex better.” Shanks adds as he leans toward your flustered face catching you off guard by his words. “I see.” You ponder their words and the whole day that has transpired and there was no doubt in your mind that you wanted them. So taking a deep breath you stand up and grab the keys to the bar as they watch you with intense curiosity. “Well I guess we could play your way but… we should probably take it upstairs to my place. I wouldn’t want anyone walking in to see me in my thong.” You tease as you head towards the door swinging the keys in your hand with newfound confidence, you don’t know where it came from but you think it was the rush of having two hotties fiend over you. Turning to look over your shoulder you winked at both pirates and gave a smirk, “You boys coming?”

“Absolutely.” They grinned and you laughed remembering them saying the same thing earlier that day.

You quickly found yourselves upstairs in your living room all sitting on the couch with more alcohol laid out on your coffee table for you all. “Okay since the game was your idea you guys should start first.” 

“After you captain.” Benn says as he pulls out a cigarette placing it between his lips but pausing right as he grabs his lighter. “Do you mind?” He asks and you just shake your head as you walk over to open the window a bit, lighting a warm vanilla sugar candle on your way back to the couch. “Ooo romantic.” Shanks teases and you roll your eyes as you plop down between the two of them and crack open your bottle of choice.  “Okay captain you go first.” You mock and miss the way Shanks sucks in a breath hearing you call him that but Benn doesn’t miss it and only laughs at the man while shaking his head. “Focus Red Hair.” 

“Yeah…yeah okay. Hmm- how about…favorite position?” 

“Ooo down to the nitty gritty huh.” You laugh and ponder the question, debating if you wanna answer or remove a piece of clothing. “It’s a tie but I’ll say only one. I’m thinking… Pronebone.” Once you answer Shanks whistles loudly, “Oooo nice and deep okay okay.” 

“Ugh please hush!” You groan and Benn laughs as he nudges your shoulder, “Don’t be embarrassed baby doll…” Benn smirks before he leans toward you, “Save that for later.”

Shanks grins as he takes a shot, “You can go next darling.” You don’t even hesitate to uno reverse Shanks on question and he just smirks happily, “Easy, cowgirl. I like admiring a woman taking what she wants from me. Go ahead Benn.” Benn hums as he thinks of the question, standing to put his cigarette out in the sink, washing down his mess before sitting back down to face you. “Remember you can either answer or take off that top of yours.” You nod and he continues, “Can you deep throat?” 

You felt so hot you thought you were going to burst into flames but you refused to back down and remove your clothes just yet. “Yes. Shanks your turn.” 

“Well fuck me sideways and call me a bitch cause that’s good to know. Okay… soft and slow or rough and fast?” Shanks jokes and you laugh at his crazy statement before thinking of a response. Taking a sip of the drink you made you lean in close as you answer. “Tough choices. I usually like it fast and rough but with you two I wouldn’t mind seeing how you pirates handle it slow” Another sip and you turn your attention to Benn in order to ask your next question. “Have you and your Captain ever fooled around?” Benn gives Shanks a look as he answers, “Yes but it’s not really my thing, we’re better at fucking pretty girls together instead of each other.” Your mouth literally drops when you hear his words then you look over at Shanks in shock who just grins and raises his eyebrows. “What can I say, I gotta try everything at least once.” 

“My turn.” Benn says, making you look over at him as he smiles, “Have you ever kissed a woman?” 

Giving a shrug you recycle Shanks’ words, “Well I gotta try everything at least once.” Your answer makes the red haired man laugh with excitement. “I think we’re just perfect together darling.” Throwing his arm over your shoulder you give a little head shake as he asks his next question. 

The game goes on for a while until Benn is the one who gets to ask the final question, all of you very tipsy with all your layers remaining. None of you backing down from the overly perverted questions that you all threw each other's way. “Okay baby doll final question.” His face was close to yours, the smell of alcohol heavy on his lips that you couldn’t seem to look away from. “Are you ready for a couple of pirates to fuck you nice and slow?” 

At this point your body is tingling and you can feel the wetness pooling in your panties, your heart beating a mile a minute. You can feel Shanks press closer to you, his hand going to your thigh as his lips kiss your exposed shoulder. “Promise we’ll take good care of you baby.” Benn puts his hand on your other thigh and you swallow the lump in your throat as he stares into your eyes intensely waiting on your answer. 

“Yes.” When you answer Benn doesn’t even waste a second to lean in and kiss you with a hunger that makes you melt. Your hands reach up to wrap around his shoulders tugging him closer towards you as Shanks’ hand runs up underneath your top with a groan. You moan into Benn’s mouth when you feel Shanks squeeze your breath over your lace bra, his calloused fingers digging into your flesh. “So pretty baby.” Shanks mumbles against your neck as Benn paws at your thigh, his tongue slipping into your mouth with a blazing passion. 

You feel on fire between both men as they grope and kiss you all over, “Come on sweetheart lemme take this off.” Shanks asks tugging on the hem of your shirt and even though you don’t want to break the kiss with Benn he does as his Captain suggests. “Sorry doll the Captain doesn’t ask more than once.” You’re beyond horny and don’t give even a second thought when you remove your top and toss it across the room before pulling Shanks into a kiss. Benn takes the job of Shanks and leaves kisses all over your neck as you kiss the red haired man, your fingers tangling with his hair to give a slight tug that has him moan into your mouth. 

“I wanna go to the bedroom.” You say in between the kiss and let out a surprised gasp when Benn lifts you up like you weigh nothing, Shanks following behind stripping off his top in the process. Benn throws you on the bed with a smirk, your attention drawn to the way both men strip in front of you. Even with one arm Shanks moves with such a smooth grace that has your mouth drooling, they’re both cocky and even though Benn started out so quiet he had quite the ego. When they remove their boxers your mouth literally drops as you see how large they both are in comparison to the guys you’ve fucked on your island. 

“Like what you see darling?” Shanks asks but you’re so stunned to speak as you stare at the cut beauty hard between his legs, veins pulsing with need, tip just as red as his hair with a bit of cum threatening to fall. Shanks had more length than Benn but just a little bit, but what Benn missed out in length he made up for it with his girth. Benn’s cock was thick like a damn soda can and it made you swallow the lump in your throat wondering if you’d be able to take him in either one of your holes. You had a feeling though that the dear Captain would take the front while Benn would take the back. You’re caught off guard when you feel a light smack to your thigh from Benn, their cocks so mesmerizing you forgot Shanks even asked you a question. 

“My Captain asked you a question, baby doll.” Benn tells you with a stern tone and you have to peel your eyes from their dicks in order to focus. “Um…what was the question?” Shanks tilts his head as he looks at you, his voice teasing you as he circles the bed. “Awe pretty girl, we haven’t even touched you yet and you’ve already gone dumb. Poor thing. Don’t worry that’s what a Captain is for, I’ll take care of you sweetheart.” 

Benn climbs in bed next to you on one side as Shanks takes the other side, their hands touching you anyway they can. Benn takes care of the harder things like unclipping your bra and your jeans while the redhead pulls off your bra, kissing the skin that's underneath. His lips feel like molten lava against your skin and you gasp as his lips wrap around your hardened nipple. Benn cradles your head to the side in order to suck a mark onto your neck causing you to moan, your fingers tangling once again into Shanks hair. Your other breast gets stimulation as Shanks squeezes it in his calloused hand, Benn busies himself by massaging your thighs, slowly pulling them open for his Captain to slide between. 

“You’re so beautiful.” Benn praises as his kisses reach your jaw, his large hand turning your face toward his so he can close the gap between you with a slow and deep kiss. His tongue invaded your mouth in a passionate kiss as his Captain worked his magic on your nipples, switching between both breasts causing you to whimper. Both men knew how to use their tongues which made you very curious for later. 

Shanks starts to go lower and lower his mouth leaving kisses in their wake as he descends down towards your dripping pussy. His fingers move your thong to the side making you gasp into Benn’s mouth, his tongue swirling around yours with a deep groan. Shanks looks up at you just in time for Benn to pull away allowing you to look down at his Captain. Benn’s hands spread your legs open embarrassingly wide, pressing your thighs into your chest making you whine. You felt vulnerable in this position but you guessed that was what happens when you fuck a couple of pirates. 

“Go ahead baby, keep your eyes on him. My Captain has a thing for being watched.” Benn smirks as he kisses your cheek, your eyes falling down to watch as Shanks lays on his stomach. His tongue licks between your dripping folds, before his tongue circles around your clit, a groan leaving him at the taste of your wetness. Spitting on his fingers he circled your usually neglected hole as he closed his mouth around your clit with a lewd moan. “How is she Captain?” Benn asks before kissing under your ear and licking the shell. 

Shanks eyes roll back for a second as he takes another slow lick at your entrance before staring directly at you, “So fucking good.” You watch as Shanks licks your clit again before sucking it into his mouth. “Yeah I bet she does.” Benn groans into your neck, his hands squeezing at your spread thighs making you whine at his strength. “Shanks~” A smack to your thigh makes you gasp, your head turning to look at Benn who only shakes his head. “That ain’t what you call him in her darling.” 

“Dammit sorry.” You moan out and Shanks only grins as his tongue goes lower into your neglected hole. “Oh fuck! Captain!” Your head falls back against Benn's shoulder making him chuckle at how easily you come undone on his Captain’s tongue. “Just relax darling.” Benn says kissing along your jaw, his thumb rubbing against your thigh. 

Your senses hyper focused on the way Shanks ate you out, his thumb rubbing at your clit to stimulate both areas. Shanks ate you out like a mad man, switching between your ass and your pussy, you didn’t know what to focus on with the way he was working you. “Come on Captain quit hoggin her will ya.” Benn grumbled out as kissed your jaw, your eyes rolling back as you felt Shanks suck on your clit while his fingers opened up your ass. His tongue moving down to dip into your pussy to lick at your juices that started to flow from your orgasm. 

“Fuck fuck fuck! Captain!” Your scream tore through your throat like never before and it was music to both men's ears. “That’s it darling cum all over his face.” Benn coaxed out of you as Shanks thrust his fingers into you in time with his tongue that worked your cunt. It was such  a new sensation that sent you over the pleasurable edge you never thought you’d experience with some pirates. “Cumming!” You practically screech out and Shanks only moans into your cunt, “So fucking good! That’s it baby! Give it to me!” The vibrations of his voice makes you squirm or at least try to but the hold that Benn had on you kept you in place for the overstimulation that Shanks was giving you. 

Shanks lets out a long groan as he feels your walls clamp down and pulse around his tongue, your ass twitching against his fingers as you moan loudly. Benn holds you open as you cum, his Captain just as noisy as you as you cum and he just chuckles watching the both of you. “You two are so noisy.” Benn smirks and you just turn your face toward him, your eyes barely able to focus on him but you want to kiss him so bad.

“Benn~” You moan out, “Please kiss me.” Benn gives a mocking coo as he leans down anyways to kiss you. The large man had quite the oral fixation and liked to keep himself busy either with marking up your neck or kissing you on the lips, his tongue swirling with yours. “Awe aren’t you a cutie.” Benn teases before leaning closer to kiss you on the lips, his teeth nipping at your bottom lip making you suck in a breath. 

“Help me out a bit Benn.” Shanks practically moaned out as he sucked your clit, allowing room for Benn’s large fingers to dip into your throbbing cunt. Your clit tingled as your pussy became filled with Benn’s thick fingers that entered your pussy, Shanks fingers never leaving your ass and you only moaned at the feeling of them both. Benn used his free hand to hold your jaw and pull you in for a kiss, “Better keep those legs open for us pretty girl.” You sneak your hands around to hold your legs open for the men to continue their work. Your legs started to shake as both men brought you closer and closer to coming again, their fingers moving a bit faster as they noticed your walls tightening. 

“There we go sweetheart, be good for your Captain and let go.” Shanks says between kisses to your clit making you moan out loudly. Your own fingers dug into your thighs as Benn stole your moans through deep kisses, his tongue swirling around yours before sucking on it with a groan. Pulling away he kisses your cheek, then your jaw before going to your neck to nip at your skin, your body shuddering from the affect you’re having. Your body shivers like a wave and you moan as your head falls back again onto Benn, your pussy creaming on his fingers that thrust into your cunt. “Benn! Ah- Shh-!” Trying to moan out the redhead's name gets cut off with a shout. 

The sound of your dripping hole was loud in Shanks ear, his eyes looking up to stare at your face as you came undone. Your thighs trembled and Benn used the hand that was once on your jaw to hold your leg open, “Easy baby, we gotcha.” His eyes watched Shanks and his fingers stretch you out to take both men. They wanted to keep things nice and slow how you requested but the way your body was talking to them was starting to get pretty difficult.

“You think you’re ready to take the both of us baby doll?” Benn asks and you can’t help but nod your head like a madwoman. “Yes oh fuck yes! Please!” You shriek as Shanks nips at your clit before pulling away, removing his fingers to sit up. Benn can’t help himself when he pulls his fingers out of your pussy to give it a wet slap making you yelp. “Benn!” You moan in surprise and he just kisses your cheek. “Sorry, I couldn't help it, she just looked so cute.” Benn’s teasing and vulgar words made your body flare with heat. 

“Again.” Shanks commands as he strokes his cock in front of you and you pout when you hear him, but being the second that he was did it without repeat. “But-” You try to protest but Benn hushes you, his lips against your ear. “Shh, just be a good girl darlin. It’s just one more.” Benn reassures as he smacks your pussy again, your wetness making the slap sound noisier and it only turns on Shanks more as he licks his lips. “Alright pretty let’s see how you can handle a couple of pirates.” Shanks grins as plops himself on the bed, laying on his back as Benn maneuvers you on top of him, a gasp leaving you as he just keeps carrying you like you’re nothing more than a feather. 

“Take your time baby, I’m sure I’m bigger than the silly amateurs that you fuck on this island.” Shanks says confidently and you just roll your eyes despite him being right, your action makes the man laugh as he squeezes your thigh gently. “Oh sweetheart don’t be bashful I could tell when you first saw my cock that you liked it.” 

“It is pretty nice.” You tease as you line yourself up with the tip of his cock, your fingers wrapped around his cock, your thumb stroking the longest vein that ran along the side. Shanks hissed as you squeezed the base and slowly ran your hand back up to the tip, “Dammit darlin you’re killing me.” You feel Benn kiss along your shoulders as he comes up behind you, his rough hands coming around to grope at your breast. “Think you can handle him baby doll?” Benn asked in a teasing tone and you just smirked down at Shanks as you slowly lowered down onto him. 

You honestly thought you could handle him but once his tip slowly slid into your dripping cunt you realized how wrong you were. He felt way bigger than he looked, sucking in a sharp breath as Shanks’ cock slowly pierced through your wet walls. “F~uck!” You gasp making the redhead grin but his bravado also cracks as your walls clamp down around his cock. The feeling of your warm, wet walls squeezing his cock in a tight grip makes his head spin, his cheeks flushing and eyes rolling back. “Shit Benn, you have no idea how good her pussy feels.” Shanks’ voice is a deep groan, long and drawn out as you took more of his cock in your pussy. Moans dripped out at a loud pitch that you weren’t used to, Shanks’ cock long enough to reach depths that normally didn’t get touched. Your body lit up like fireworks just burst inside of you, your thighs trembled as you sunk down all the way on his cock.

“I’ll have to try her out another time.” Benn smirked as he squeezed your breast, his fingers toying with your nipples making you shudder. “Ugh! Fuck! Shanks~ you’re so big!” You can’t help how whiny your voice comes out as you feel his cock throb inside of you. The man smirks below you, his breathing heavy as he speaks, “Thanks darlin. Now come over here so I can kiss those pretty lips of yours.” 

You bend down towards him and his hand caresses your cheek tenderly, pulling you closer till his lips push against yours. Both of your lips moving in a sensual dance that leave you breathless as he parts your lips with his sneaky experienced tongue. You gasp into his mouth as you feel Benn spit on your ass, his thumb rubbing against your tight hole in a circle to spread his saliva all over you. “Stay relaxed baby.” Benn’s voice is filled with patience as he uses his other hand to aim the tip of his dick against you. Shanks distracts you a bit with his tongue swirling into your mouth, sucking on your tongue with a groan. You whine into his mouth as you feel his hand run down your back to your ass, spreading you open for his Vice Captain. 

Benn licks his lips as he slowly sinks his tip into your puckered hole, hissing as he feels your warmth gripping his cock like a glove. “Damn.” Benn’s deep voice sends chills down your spine, the new sensation of having something enter your ass makes your brain hyperfocus. You can’t help but clench around the tip of Benn’s cock, “Easy~ baby.” Benn tells you as he massages your back to get you to settle down as he sinks his cock in deeper. Shanks grinds his hips upward to stimulate you and allow you to relax for Benn to dive in deeper, drinking in the sound of your moan as the curve of his cock aims right on the spot you need him too. Benn moves his hand around your body to rub circles on your clit causing you to gasp into Shanks mouth. 

“Almost there baby. Fuck you’re doing so good.” Benn groaned as his cock was halfway into your ass with Shanks grinding into your wet cunt, your juices dripping down with heighted lust. You had to pull away from the deep kiss that Shanks was giving you to catch your breath, your hands pressed against his muscled chest as he pulled his hand back to spank your ass. “Man ain’t you just the prettiest thing. Just a few hours ago you couldn’t stand the sight of a couple pirates, now look at you. Coming apart, taking two cocks at once.” Shanks teasing had you so embarrassed but when you wanted to complain Benn slammed his hips forward into your warm hole with a deep drawn out grumble. The sudden slam of his cock hitting deep inside of you forced a loud scream to leave your throat, eyes rolling back as his fingers circled your clit.

“Fuck! Benn! Oh fuck you’re both so deep!” You babble as Benn moves you up and down on Shanks cock. “Should we stop?” Benn questioned as he pressed on your clit more with harder pressure, a grind of his hips just as Shanks did the same made your jaw drop. 

“No! Fuck don’t you dare stop! Please keep going!” You gasp out as your fingers unconsciously dig into Shanks chest, when his hips swirl into you. “Trust me baby we’re not stopping.” Benn smirks down at Shanks who gets the silent hint to swap hand placements, the redhead going to rub your clit as Benn puts both his hands on your hips to start lifting you up and down on their cocks as they push their hips up to meet you. The position only driving their long cocks further into you with each thrust of their skilled hips. 

You never imagined there would be a day that you would think a pirate was attractive let alone two pirates yet here you were. Your body was being used perfectly as you just took what they gave you. You knew pirates took what they wanted you just never thought it would be your body and man did they take good care of it. Words of praise dripping like honey down your body, your temperature rising with every brush of their lips against your skin. Goosebumps formed as they hushed the most vulgar words you’ve ever heard into your ears. You never thought you were innocent actually you considered yourself far from it but with how they were talking to you it definitely changed your stance on the matter. 

“You have such a perfect pussy, so wet and slippery on my cock. Taking my vice captain so good in that pretty ass of yours too- fuck baby.” Shanks moaned out his eyes enraptured by how beautifully wrecked you looked. Your back was pressed against Benn’s chest, your hips now moving wildly on their own accord. Wanton moans leaving you as your head was thrown back on the shooter’s shoulder, his hand gently wrapped around your throat as he sucked mark after mark onto your neck. Benn couldn’t help his constant marking, his oral fixation in hyperdrive and needing something to do. Shanks watched you both intensely, his eyes roaming every inch of your body up and down, pausing to watch the ring of cream that was forming on the base of his cock like a masterpiece.

 Your arm without thinking went behind and around Benn’s neck to grip at his hair, not realizing how you ripped the cheap ponytail that held his hair up. Black strands cascading around his face as continued to slam his thick cock into you, taking your breath away as well as his at the feel of you. Benn felt his eyes roll back as you tugged on the raven locks, a deep growlish moan escaping as he bit into your neck before swirling his tongue against the mark. His thick fingers digging into the flesh of your hips making you whimper as he only rocked you down harder. 

You felt the boiling in your body, the tingling in the pit of your stomach as your toes curled and thighs trembled. “Fuckfuckfuck! Im gonna~!” 

“I know you are sweetheart. Just let it out baby.” Shanks breathed out with a grin. “So pretty cumming for a couple of dirty pirates. Nothing but lowlife scum but you love it huh?” 

“Yes! Fuck I love your cocks so much!” You wailed out as Shanks rubbed your clit faster. “Hell yeah you do you naughty girl. Ugh fuck- you little liar want to act all tough but look at her - uh fuck- crying over some pirates fucking her so good.” Shanks moaned out trying to keep his eyes on you even though they wanted to roll in the back of his head at the feel of your walls tightening. “Shit you’re beautiful.” 

“You like having pirates use this pretty body of yours don’t you baby doll?” Benn asked in your ear, turning your face towards his, your fingers still tangled into his tresses as you pathetically nod. “Prove it darling. Cum for us dirty pirates.” You couldn’t hold back the moan that ripped through you, your body shaking as Benn held you up both mens hips not stopping as they helped you ride your wave.  

You never really squirted in your life but with both men drilling their gorgeous cocks into you at a fast pace you guess it was time for your body to do the unexpected. A gasp left you as your body erupted with pure ecstasy and unimaginable pleasure. You always thought pirates were good for nothing but damn did they change your mind when you felt your walls tighten and vision go blinding white. It’s like your body felt every pulse of your cock, every vein, every delicious curve and thrust that they were giving to you. The perfect tip of Shanks’ cock pounding into your g-spot with every thrust like a magnet was attached and Benn hitting your walls only pushed Shanks in deeper. 

“That’s it princess there we go. Wetter pussy than the fucking ocean.” Shanks hissed as he watched the way you soaked his cut abs, his fingers rubbing your pussy causing an even bigger mess. “We picked the perfect fucking island.” Shanks grinned as he moved his hand up to lick the mess that you made all over him, eyes finally rolling back at the taste of your sticky juices. Benn groaned into your neck feeling the vice grip your ass had around his thick, veiny cock and knew he was about to cum once you tugged on his hair harder. 

“Pull my hair harder baby doll. Let me have it.” Benn groaned out before smashing his lips to yours, tongues battling but clearly he was winning as your body was still lit up with the aftershocks of your orgasm. Shanks licking up the mess you made like a starved wild animal as his eyes trained on the both of you kissing messily. Drool slipping down your chin as Benn’s hands trailed down to squeeze your tights making you whine and tug on his hair harder like he requested. His hips rocked into you harder as he felt his balls tighten and pulse, “Mmm!” His hands gripped your breasts harder as he lost his rhythm a bit before sinking further into your ass.

Hot cum flooding your ass in thick sticky ropes as a long moan was shared between the two of you in a deep kiss. Shanks licked his lips as he fucked up into you harder and faster, his hand gripped your hips to force you down to meet his thrusts. Feet planting on the bed for better leverage as his jaw tightened but he needed to see you cum again. 

“Benn hold her still.” Shanks’ voice sounded deeper and more stern and you quickly felt Benn drag his hands down to your hips to grip you tight. His lips leaving yours to talk in your ears, “Look at my Captain.” You don’t mean to pout but you do and Shanks sees it, his hips snapping up harder into yours snatching a gasp from you that makes you look at him. 

Shanks fucks you harder like he suddenly hates your pussy and you can’t figure out why until he speaks, his thumb rubbing your clit in harsh circles. “Why the fuck did you have to eat a damn fruit!” He snaps and fucks you harder, the scowl on his face a drastic difference to his earlier sweet demeanor. “Naughty fucking girl just had to eat one of those stupid fucking things.” You couldn’t figure out why he hated them so much  and honestly in that moment you could care less what his problem with devils fruits were when he was fucking you as good as he was. 

“Such a perfect fucking cunt and you just had to ruin it! Uh hah! Fuckfuckfuck! Pussy fits so well around my cock! Dammit!” His words are coming out in angry growls and Benn’s grip on you tightens his lips busying themselves again to nip at your neck and mumble out words as well. “Damn shame or we could be doing this all the time.” Benn whispers in your ear before sucking on your neck. You wanted to ask them questions on what they meant but you couldn’t not with how you felt another orgasm speeding towards you. You didn’t think you had another in you but it was fast approaching. Your fingers tugged again on Benn’s hair and the man hissed as your ass clenched around his oversensitive cock.

“Bad, bad girl. Perfect pussy though.” Shanks groaned as he rammed his cock deeper. 

“Shanks! Shanks, I think I’m gonna cum again!” You cry out and the man only smirks as he keeps fucking up into you and rubbing your clit. “Go ahead baby. You gonna let me cum in this pretty pussy of yours?” He asks you and as much as your brain is screaming no you can’t help but moan out a yes. 

“See~ what a bad girl you are. Letting some filthy pirates cum in your little holes. A yonko at that.” Shanks grins and you just stare at him with blurry eyes, your body shaking not being able to argue with anything he’s saying. His hips thrust harder as he feels you cumming around his cock again, this time his cock twitches and ropes of his seed flood your pussy. Tingles running throughout both of your bodies as his eyes roll back into his skull. “Oh sweetheart~” His moan whimpers out at the end, feeling how tight your pussy gets and he’s gasping for air chest rising and falling rapidly. 

All of you are breathing heavily as you finally snap back into reality, the situation sinking in further and you can’t believe you just had sex with two pirates, one of whom was a yonko. 

Did you fuck up? Probably… but it was too good to regret. You don’t remember how you fell asleep or even when but when you woke up all traces of Shanks and his crew vanished. You wondered if everything that happened was real or not but there was no doubting the cum that dripped from your gaping used holes. 

Remnants of a night you’ll never forget.

Ive only read a few but the ones I have read were outstanding!!!

Savoring a Summer Fic List?

As it is now June, I think it’s time to give out another fic list to the fandom. Miraculers, worry not about what to read. I have you covered!

Remember Me by artzygirl2525 (Rated: E) Marinette is akumatized, forgetting the past two years she has spent with Adrien and the rest of her classmates, but she doesn’t know it.

The Two of Us by AnabielVriskaMars (Rated: T) Marinette doesn’t have the funds to maintain a life in college. Adrien, wanting to help out his best friend, decides marriage is the only option.

Triptych by Roarsthedandelion (Rated: M) Adrien lost contact with Marinette five years ago. When he finds her, they do unexpected things.

Marinette’s Lullaby by honeyhibiscus (Rated: T) Marinette hears Adrien playing a song at lunch. On patrol, Chat Noir hears her hum it to him.

Guardians by @wintermoth (Rated: T) A reimagining of the show Miraculous Ladybug but the children have common sense and everything makes sense. Also the reason the kitty trains are back.

Serendipitous Fate by @skaylanphear (Rated: M) With the guidance of Master Fu, Ladybug and Chat Noir reveal themselves and train outside of the mask. Cue the angst.

Across the Pond by coccinelle_et_chaton (Rated: T) Before their last year of Lycée, Marinette, Adrien, Alya, and Nino decide that they need a vacation. What better place than Walt Disney World in Orlando, Florida?

The truth of you by mirawohoo (metawohoo) (Rated: T) Soulmate marks are obtained when you touch the person who truly understands you. Marinette gets her soulmate mark. Adrien does not.

Check Plus One by volti (Rated: T) Marinette finally gets the courage to ask Adrien out. Except, she doesn’t. He beat her to it.

Grumpy Cat by iamthepunchlord (Rated: G) Félix is a grumpy cat, but he’s Marinette’s grumpy cat.

Shower Scene 3.0 by quicksilversquared (Rated: G) What happens when an akuma attacks and Adrien’s actually in the shower? Hilarity. Hilarity happens.

Chad by Drosolmire (Rated: T) Yo it’s ya boi Chad Noir.

Strays by @buglad (Rated: G) Adrien is a cat whisperer.

Keep It In Your Plants by Reyxa (Rated: T) Flower shop and art school AU featuring two adorable kittens from strays (the above fic).

Destiny is a Funny Thing by Life_Is_No_Fairytale (Rated: T) In which Adrien will eventually find out Marinette’s secret, or they’ll both die in the process. Featuring Alix with superpowers, Volpina, and the ship no one actually thought of before even though it’s super cute and literally small.

Lights of Home by @oceanspray5 (Rated: G) Based on @piku-chan‘s Cinderella AU, this story is a more in-depth version of the comics and is quite lovely.

All Grown Up by mitchkat1 (Rated: T) An akuma attacks with the power to age up anyone. Chat Noir and Ladybug easily defeat her, but Chat Noir was hit in the process and Ladybug didn’t use her Lucky Charm.

Across Time and Space by ciitadel (not rated) During an akuma attack, Ladybug is hit, sending her to alternate realities and forcing her to relive April 26th until she can return home.

Competition by @uncommonalistic (Rated: T) Selection AU with the love square (mainly Adrinette and Ladynoir) and a love triangle.

L’appel du Vide by @wintermoth (Rated: T) Introducing Adribug and Chat Mari, a kwami swap AU. Part 1 of a 7-part series.

I’m Here to Dance by kisstheprincessofpurewhite (Rated: T) Breakdance AU featuring the love square.

The Space Between Us by @chassecroise (Rated: T) Adorable summertime puberty fanfic with a reveal.

elephant by @buglad (Rated: T) In the game of Assassin, no one is safe, not even Kim, Alix, Adrien, or Marinette.

Miraculous Parents by fullmetalpotterhead (Rated: G) Dadrien and Mominette drabble that began when Mlle Mendeleiev made her students take home fake babies for health class.

Run(a)way by flameroyalty (Rated: G) In which a mistake on the runway leads to Adrien avoiding Marinette but Marinette interns with Agreste because of it.

Miraculous Demigods AU by dolphinandwater (Rated: G) As the title says, this is a demigod AU. Specifically, a Percy Jackson and Heroes of Olympus AU.

Don’t kiss and tell by dolphinandwater (Rated: G) In which Chat Noir is a celebrity bad boy who breaks the hearts of all the girls he meets. Marinette is his latest fling, and she knows it’s all for show, but does her heart?

Pigtails by Ryuusa (Rated: T) In which Marinette runs late and isn’t able to put her hair up. Cue possessive Adrien.

Sing the Song of Sailing Sirens by @princessofharte (Rated: T) Pirate-mermaid-siren AU originally intended for the ML Valentine exchange.

Satisfaction Brought It Back by @siderealsandman (Rated: Explicit) It’s a BDSM Adrinette fic that is far more sinful than A Werecat in London and The Ladybugs and the Bees combined.

Chasing the C/h/atwalk by @runningoutofink In which Marinette is on Project Runway in France. Her model just so happens to be none other than Adrien Agreste. Cue #Adrinette trending on Twitter.

Taylor Krahenbuhl  -  http://krahenbuhldesign.blogspot.com.es  -  http://taylorkrahenbuhl.tumblr.com  -  https://www.linkedin.com/in/taylor-krahenbuhl-173a0b4  -  https://www.facebook.com/taylor.krahenbuhl  -  https://www.instagram.com/taylorkrahenbuhl

Markiplier Fandom

Now that everything has hit the fan and the “cult” thing has had it’s run. It’s time for us, the fans, to fix things. Because none of this is Mark’s fault. It’s our fault. The fans fault. And if this was a test to see if we could handle a little carefree fun, we failed it. Royally. But now is our chance to make up that test. Let’s spread the positivity @markiplier wanted us to spread in the beginning. Let’s show our friends, the fandom, and especially Mark that we love them. That we care. Reblog this post with the hastage ‘oneswhocare’ to show your support. We can prove to Mark we are better than this. Because:

“We are the ones who CARE.”

Full Disclosure: I WANT TO SEE GARNET UNFUSE AGAIN

Keeping It Together: NO NOT LIKE THAT

Keystone Motel: Yes. That's what I wanted.

infect me with your love

pairing ⸺ spiderman!gojo x reader

summary ⸺ you have always existed in gojo satoru’s shadow. he is a physics prodigy, a person that everyone endlessly admires for his intelligence and charisma, and you hate him for taking the spotlight that you deserve to share with him. but it all changes one day at 5:07AM at your starbucks job when gojo barges in, ordering ridiculously sweet drinks and posing existential questions. is there more to gojo that meets the eye, and is it linked to the vigilante swinging around New York City?

warnings ⸺ college au, academic rivals to lovers, SMUT, tooth rotting fluff, angst, hurt/comfort, basically the holy trinity, reader works at Starbucks (BOYCOTT tho), set in NYC, both reader and gojo are physics majors, mentions of SA, attempt at SA on reader but nothing too graphic, some violence, gojo swings reader across NYC so might trigger fear of heights?. SPIDER-MAN KISS SPIDERMAN KISS, injury and mentions of blood, mentions of gun, inappropriate use of webs LOL, fingering, oral, p in v sex, reader has a vagina, fem reader implied

playlist ⸺ quantum rizzics

a/n thank you for @avaults my POOKIE for beta reading this. this has been a journey and my first longfic and i hope you guys enjoy this as much as i did writing it it's my baby:')

if u don’t wanna read the smut just skip the part after they make up, it’s not necessary to the story and is the ending scene. but just to be clear, minors dni.

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

fun fact: starbucks opens at 5am.

of course, that depends on your local hours and where you live, but in the campus starbucks you worked at, your manager fortunately didn’t really care if you showed up to your opening shift a bit late. after all, no professor or undergrad is waking up at the ass crack of dawn to get a fuckin coffee; if they really needed a pick me up, they’d go to get the free alcohol at one of the frats that was still partying. 

matter of fact, your manager didn’t really give a fuck what you did as long as you didn’t get the shop blown up or the matcha spilled (it was expensive). this meant you could leisurely wake up at 4:45am and set up the display muffins and cake pops when you arrived in the shop at 5:20am. really, the manager ought to reduce the hours because all you do is finish your readings for your gen ed history classes on the canvas app on your phone. so, really you get paid for doing your homework on your shifts—not that you’re complaining or anything.

that is, until gojo satoru.

first, let’s get the record straight about who gojo is. gojo is a physics second-year—same as you–who is the bane of your existence. up until a few months ago, you never saw gojo satoru outside of classes (where he was dozing off) unless you happened to show up at a frat party, which was only a few occurrences when you got peer pressured by your friends. clearly, he was a “work hard, party hard” type person because he frequents the frats more than the library while having the grades to make up for it because he’s a prodigy. he’s charismatic and smart as fuck; right out of middle school he was studying manifolds and abstract algebra while the rest of the high school freshmen were learning the quadratic equation and the concept of variables. he probably learned what gravity was at age of two and was doing research in quantum field theory by the time he got into college. 

take the last time you saw him outside of class, at office hours with professor yaga.

the air in professor yaga’s office is thick with the scent of old textbooks, the hum of the overhead lights adding to the familiar quiet. you’ve been waiting all week for this chance, and you’re armed with a question that’s supposed to signal i’ve done my homework. you lean forward, trying to project confidence as you ask, “i read in your last paper that you’re working on optimizing error correction in quantum computing systems. is there a reason you prioritized stabilizer codes over surface codes?”

professor yaga’s brow lifts, impressed, and you can feel the warmth of his approval starting to settle around you. “ah,” he says, sounding pleasantly surprised, “you’ve actually read it. that’s... a complicated question.” he leans back, launching into an explanation, and for a second, you think this might actually be it—the moment he notices you for your dedication, your depth of knowledge.

but then, the door creaks open behind you.

you tense, a sinking feeling pooling in your stomach even before you turn around. of course, it’s gojo satoru, strolling in like he owns the place. his bag is slung over one shoulder, and he’s flashing that easy grin that never seems to falter. he spares you the briefest glance before zeroing in on professor yaga.

professor yaga’s face shifts instantly, a mixture of annoyance and resignation flashing in his eyes as he sighs, “gojo. nice of you to join us.”

“hey, i was just passing by,” gojo says casually, though he’s clearly anything but. he doesn’t pass by anywhere without making an entrance. “thought i’d check in on how everyone’s doing.”

the glint in yaga’s eyes sharpens, and he fixes gojo with a look. “when’s that last problem set coming in, satoru? i’ve had enough late assignments from you for one semester.”

at this, another professor at a nearby desk chuckles, casting an amused glance at gojo. “don’t push him too hard, yaga,” he says as if gojo’s delinquency is something charming, a shared inside joke. “kid’s already got the department’s highest scores without trying.”

oh, for god’s fucking sake. you force yourself not to roll your eyes, your grip tightening on the strap of your bag as you sink back in your chair. of course, all it takes is for him to show up and somehow you’re rendered invisible. just minutes ago, professor yaga was engaging with you, treating you as if you might actually belong in this room with your carefully constructed question. now, he’s utterly distracted, entirely absorbed by whatever pseudo-flattering insults he’s throwing at gojo. and, for the record, that stupid, balding professor is wrong. you have the same fucking scores as gojo, so you’re equals.

you’re not even sure gojo realizes he’s doing it—that he has this magnetic, obnoxious effect on everyone in a room. but that’s exactly what grates on you the most. he pulls all eyes to him, like he’s some cosmic force everyone’s compelled to admire. and you? you’re just… there. not that it’s any different than the usual experiences you’ve had as a woman in stem, always feeling like you have to prove yourself five times over. but somehow, gojo makes it worse.

and he does it all effortlessly, like physics is some sort of playground where he can breeze through research and exams, sprinkling charisma wherever he goes. he’s probably off writing his own theories on manifolds while everyone else is struggling to keep up with quantum mechanics. meanwhile, here you are, clawing for every shred of recognition, only to watch it fizzle as soon as he steps into the room.

he flashes a grin at professor yaga. “i’ll get it in,” he says, waving a hand dismissively. “i’m just, you know, prioritizing. some of us have… extracurriculars.” he doesn’t wink, but he might as well.

you resist the urge to scoff, sinking deeper into your seat as the frustration bubbles up, sharp and hot. it’s not like you’re jealous. you’d rather endure anything than admit that. but watching gojo waltz in and immediately siphon off any attention you’d managed to earn feels like a slap. if he could just stop showing up, or better yet, stop pretending to be so casually brilliant, maybe—just maybe—you’d have a chance at something other than this routine invisibility.

you let out a huff, pretending to check the time, imagining you had somewhere better to be. you have brilliant, observant blue eyes following you out the door, but you’re too busy trying to keep yourself together until you reach your dorm, where you ugly cry it out.

which, of course, brings you to mornings like this one, where you actually do have to be somewhere. namely, behind the counter at the campus starbucks, opening up shop while most of the world is still asleep. you catch sight of the green mermaid logo ahead, just visible through the dim haze of a 5:07 a.m. chill.

and right beneath it, there’s a familiar head of silver hair.

your eyes have to double take on the man who seems to be looking a bit slouched, tired and leaning against the light pole while tapping his foot. the muscular yet tall stature and white hair are unmistakable; it’s the same ones you’ve dreamed about throttling. but you’re so confused as to why he’s there that you just decide to wordlessly walk towards the store and open up, ignoring his presence until his voice cuts through the morning silence.

“doesn’t this store open up at 5?” his voice sounds tired and groggy, you notice. 

“uh, yea,” you answer tentatively, shrugging. “but, um, no one comes until 7 so i show up late.”

his eyes narrow and somewhat playfully (well, as playful as he can sound at the ass crack of dawn anyways), he asks, “don’t you know time is of the essence? seems pretty irresponsible to me that you’re not showing up on time.”

you just stare at him for a bit because, after all, this is the guy you’ve been having the murderous equivalent of wet dreams about for the past year talking to you in a friendly, joking, familiar way. needless to say, you’re at a loss of words in your slightly flustered state, so all that comes out is a short “sorry” before you’re walking in, getting ready to put on your apron and setting the oven on to heat up the croissants. 

gojo follows in after you, choosing to sit at the table closest to the counter. he sets the backpack he had on his back down, rummaging through and whipping out his laptop and plugging it in. it’s a heavy old thing, and gojo’s biceps strain as he pulls it out and you almost snort when looking at it in its entirety. a gaming laptop.

 but you don’t do that, because laughing at someone who’s a stranger to you would be mean, no matter how much you hate him, so you resort to setting up the counter and getting some powders out. bending over, you get the newly shipped box of cake pops, deigning to put them out on display until you’re interrupted with a cough.

you turn, looking inquisitively at gojo until he points down to the counter, indicating that he wants to order. you mumble, “just a second!” before you continue hauling the box to put it on the top counter where you can easily unpack it and brush your hands, walking up to gojo and getting the system ready to take his order. 

and your fingers are poised on the buttons until you realize that no order is coming out of his mouth. you blink, and he blinks, keeping a stoic face that nevertheless poorly conceals an amused expression.

“…what can i get you?” 

at that, he pouts. “no good morning? no chirpy hello?”

you just stare at him for a good second. what the fuck?

“what?” gojo frowns. “shouldn’t you do that to every customer?” you realize belatedly you’ve said it out loud in your shock, but shake it off nonetheless. 

the silence lingers after gojo’s teasing comment, making you acutely aware of the odd situation: you’re standing there in your work apron, face-to-face with the man you’ve imagined taking down in your head a thousand times, and yet here he is, tired but playfully trying to chat you up. you should hate this—he’s getting under your skin, but for some reason, you just feel unsettled, disturbed that he’s so human.

you don’t trust your voice to not crack while making eye contact with him, so, instead, you focus on your screen. you settle on a simple, flat, “morning,” without a hint of cheerfulness, staring down at the register like it’s your lifeline.

gojo’s eyebrow quirks at your half-hearted greeting, but he says nothing, opting instead to study you with an amused glint. you can feel his gaze, like a weight on your skin, and it almost makes you shiver. he leans forward a little, propping his elbows on the counter, his posture loose but expectant. his playful energy is barely masking something beneath it, something harder.

gojo's grin is wide, almost boyish, and it makes your stomach churn more than it should.

“see? was that so hard?” he says, leaning forward on his elbows like he’s settling in for a chat. his tone is too friendly for someone who’s never exchanged more than a glance with you in class—someone you’ve been actively avoiding whenever possible.

you scowl, moving to the register to finally punch in his order. “what would you like?”

“hmm...” he taps his chin, dragging out the silence. he’s enjoying this, that much is obvious. “surprise me.”

you blink, fingers still poised over the buttons. “surprise you?”

“yeah,” he says, shrugging like it’s no big deal. “you work here. you know what’s good.”

you want to throttle him. really, truly throttle him. there’s no way this is real—no way the gojo satoru is sitting in front of you at 5:07 in the morning, asking you to surprise him with a starbucks order like he’s some quirky regular.

and yet, here you are.

“fine,” you mutter, punching in the order for the sweetest, most ridiculous concoction you can think of. caramel drizzle, extra whipped cream, a pump of every syrup in the back room—you’re not going easy on him. “that’ll be eight dollars.”

he doesn’t blink at the ridiculous price. of course, he doesn’t.

pulling out his phone, he taps it against the card reader and flashes you another grin. “thanks, i’m sure it’ll be great.”

you barely resist the urge to roll your eyes. “uh-huh.”

as you move to make the drink, the silence between you stretches uncomfortably. you’ve spent so much time thinking about gojo, despising him, that now that he’s here, right in front of you, you don’t know how to act. and the worst part? he seems perfectly at ease, completely unfazed by the fact that you’ve spent the better part of a year dreaming of his downfall. he’s back to looking at his stupid heavy ahh gaming laptop, and as you move over to put in copious amounts of caramel pumps, you notice that he’s on cool math games playing fireboy and watergirl and almost snort out loud. he’s locked in on his game, his legs moving up and down anxiously, reminiscent of an ipad kid.

after a few minutes of assembling his monstrosity of a drink, you slide it across the counter. “here,” you say, trying to keep the irritation out of your voice.

gojo raises an eyebrow at the drink, the sheer volume of whipped cream threatening to spill over the lid. “wow,” he says, sounding genuinely impressed. “you really went all out.”

“you said to surprise you.”

“i did,” he admits, grabbing the cup and taking a slow, deliberate sip. his eyes widen slightly at the overly sweet taste, and for a brief moment, you think you’ve won.

but then he smiles again, that same irritatingly carefree smile, and you know you haven’t. 

“so,” gojo begins, leaning back in his chair like he’s settling in for a long conversation. “what’s a genius like you doing working the early shift at starbucks?”

your hands freeze mid-clean, and you glance at him sharply. genius?

you can’t tell if he’s being sincere or mocking you—probably the latter, considering who he is—but the word still lingers in the air between you, unsettling.

you scoff, trying to brush it off. “gotta pay the bills somehow,” you mutter, going back to wiping down the counter. but gojo’s gaze is heavy on you, and you can tell he’s not letting it go.

you glance up at him. “look, i like having time to think in the mornings. it’s quiet. besides, no one’s lining up for coffee before 7, so it’s not like i’m missing anything.”

gojo chuckles softly, but there’s something off about it. “thinking time, huh?” he repeats your words, but there’s a strange edge to them, like he’s mulling them over. in fact, you think you just realize that he’s been acting oddly this entire morning, restlessness evident in his figure. he taps his fingers on the table, his eyes flickering to the window, watching the gray morning light spill into the shop.

“doesn’t it ever feel like…” he trails off, brow furrowing slightly. “i don’t know… like you should be doing something else? like… something more?”

his question hangs in the air, heavy and unspoken, but you get the feeling he’s not talking about you. there’s something in his voice, something that sounds like he’s grappling with his own thoughts, with his own place in the world.

for a moment, you’re tempted to brush him off. to tell him he’s overthinking things, that he’s gojo satoru and he already has everything laid out for him. but something stops you. maybe it’s the way he looks—his usual confidence slightly cracked at the edges, his playful tone masking something else. something deeper.

you shrug, turning back to the counter. “i mean… it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”

there’s a pause, and you can feel the weight of your words sinking in. gojo goes quiet, really quiet, and when you glance back at him, his usual smirk is gone. he’s just… staring at you, eyes narrowed slightly like he’s trying to figure you out.

“just… showing up, huh?” he repeats softly, almost like he’s testing the words. his fingers stop tapping, and he leans back in his chair, his gaze unfocused, like he’s somewhere else entirely. somewhere in his own head.

you don’t say anything else. you’ve said your piece, and somehow, you know it hit deeper than either of you expected. there’s a strange silence between you now, not uncomfortable, but heavy with understanding.

gojo stands up after a long pause, grabbing his bag and slinging it over his shoulder. he looks at you, his usual grin slipping back into place, but it’s softer now. less cocky. more real.

“maybe you’re right,” he says, and this time there’s no teasing in his voice. “sometimes it’s enough just to show up.”

and with that, he gives you a small nod, turning and heading out into the cold morning. the door swings shut behind him, and for a second, you just stand there, staring after him.

something’s shifted. you don’t know what it is, but it feels like the start of something. something bigger than just a rivalry.

you shake your head, turning back to the counter. it’s too early for this shit.

…

“you know, i didn’t get your name.”

gojo’s voice cuts through the low hum of the espresso machine as he leans against the counter, that same insufferable grin plastered across his face. he’s here again, of course, only this time it’s during your closing shift. the place is quiet, almost deserted except for the occasional customer who swings by for a quick coffee before heading back out into the cold.

you look up from the equipment you were cleaning, already annoyed. “i’m pretty sure we’ve shared at least one class every semester.”

you weren’t trying to hide the pettiness. gojo, for all his academic genius, clearly couldn’t be bothered to remember you—a recurring face in his orbit. it’s not like you were expecting him to remember you, especially among the sea of faces in lecture halls, but something about the way he strolled in, acting like this was just some cute, quirky meet-cute, got under your skin.

gojo quirks an eyebrow in confusion, his gaze drifting up toward the ceiling as if searching the recesses of his mind for your name—only to come up empty. “are you a grad student?”

you flash him an exasperated look. “just for that, i’m not telling you.”

grabbing a towel to wipe your hands, you step out from behind the barista counter, heading towards the trash can just behind him to restock the straws. as you make your way to the supply room, you can feel his eyes following your every move. to your surprise, gojo starts walking toward you, his presence looming as you dump the straws into the container.

it isn’t until you turn around that you realize he’s standing right next to you, bent comically at the waist and squinting at something on your chest. heat creeps up your neck and into your cheeks as you realize his proximity and move to take a step back. 

he wasn’t ogling you (thank god), but instead, squinting at the nametag pinned to your apron.

"ah," he says, straightening up with a triumphant grin. “there it is. y/n, huh?” the way his mouth rolls over your name slowly makes you feel a bit weird, because after all, this is the guy you’ve shit talked about in your diary finally acknowledging you existed, but before you can reflect on the feeling, you bristle again in annoyance. 

“really? you had to get that close just to read my name?”

gojo doesn’t seem fazed by your annoyance, in fact, it only seems to amuse him further. “hey, i was just trying to be thorough. gotta make sure i get it right, you know?” his grin widens, and you swear he’s enjoying this way too much.

“thorough. sure.” you turn away, trying to busy yourself with the straws again, but the heat still lingers on your face. his proximity had been… unexpected. and a little too close for comfort.

when you’re done with the straws, you steel the courage to turn your body so you’re facing him, making an indication with your hands for him to move out of your way. instead of him giving you space to leave the cramped corner, he leans against the counter now like he practically owns the place. in doing so, he effectively pins you against the corner of the coffee shop, leaving you no option but to fiddle with the straws while pointedly avoiding his gaze, but not before you see the pout on his face. “you’re not going to ask me for my name?”

“i know it. it’s gojo.” you immediately curse yourself for letting your lips loose.

fuck. he squints his eyes in what you perceive as suspicion. “how do you know my name?”

“i saw it on your credit card information.” you couldn’t exactly tell him how you’ve stalked him (as well as how inefficient you found a function in his 6th grade robotics code), so that would be a plausible enough reason. 

but gojo, of course, doesn’t let up. “so, y/n,” he starts. “you going to the party next week? you know, for halloweekend?”

ah, halloweekend. the ultimate weekend for getting excuses to dress slutilly, excessively drink, and get laid. at your college, it was an even bigger deal, with people partying for all three days of the week’s end as well as the weekend before and after halloween. you shook your head. “i don’t think so.” that phys 321 assignment was not going to finish itself, nor were parties really your scene.

“what?” he immediately crosses his arms across his chest, frowning and leaning closer to you to squint at you. “why?”

you sigh inwardly, awkward at the prospect of him bugging you further about your life. “i’m bu—”

you’re interrupted by the sound of the door opening and instinctively move to get behind the counter to take the new customer’s order; at first, you thank the heavens that you got a distraction from gojo, that you’re not alone anymore, but seeing who the customer was, the hope extinguishes like a candle face with wind.

you both see a man swagger in, the same guy you’ve noticed hanging around far too often lately. his eyes immediately lock onto you, and a slow, sleazy grin spreads across his face.

“hey, look who’s still here,” the man says, sauntering over to the counter like he owns the place. “my favorite barista.”

you tense, forcing a smile. “what can i get you?”

he doesn’t answer right away, his gaze sliding down your body in a way that makes your skin crawl. “i was thinking…” he drawls, leaning in closer than necessary, “you and i should hang out. you’re always here, and i’m always here, so it’s like fate or something, right?”

your stomach churns, and you take a small step back, maintaining your composure. “i’m good, thanks.”

but he doesn’t let up, leaning further across the counter. “come on, don’t be like that. just one drink. you deserve it after a long day.”

“i really can’t—”

“don’t be shy,” he interrupts, a grin spreading wider. “i’m a nice guy, i promise.”

before you can think of another polite rejection, gojo steps forward, his body language shifting entirely. the playful air around him evaporates, replaced by something colder, more dangerous. he positions himself squarely between you and the guy, effectively cutting off the man’s view of you.

“she said no,” gojo says, his voice firm, low. “so why don’t you fuck off?”

the sleazy guy blinks, clearly not expecting the sudden shift. his smile fades, and he glares at gojo, sizing him up like he’s considering pushing back. but one glance at gojo’s unwavering stare, and the guy decides it’s not worth it. with a muttered curse, he turns and leaves, the door swinging shut behind him.

you let out a breath you hadn’t realized you were holding. the guy’s been bothering you routinely; part of you thinks that he’s still not going to leave you alone, but the rest of you visibly relaxes, the weight of this guy’s harassment lifting off your shoulders under gojo’s protection.

gojo turns back to you, the usual teasing smirk creeping back onto his face, though his eyes are still sharp. “you okay?”

“yeah,” you manage, though your voice is quieter than you’d like. “thanks for that.”

“don’t mention it.” he shrugs it off like it was nothing, but there’s something different in the way he’s looking at you now—something protective. “i know you’re perfectly capable of handling yourself, but i figured i’d speed things up a bit.”

you roll your eyes, trying to shake off the tension. “you’re such a hero, gojo.”

“always,” he replies with a wink. and just like that, the moment’s lightened again, the balance between you restored, though there’s a subtle shift in the air. something unspoken between the two of you—an understanding, maybe.

you don’t acknowledge it out loud, but as you go back to restocking, you find yourself glancing at him more than before. and for the first time in… well, ever, you don’t completely mind his presence.

…

fast forward a few hours, and after a bit of conversation, gojo finally leaves the fine institution that is your campus starbucks. right now, you’re alone and finishing cleaning up. you lock up, the starbucks finally closed, finishing your last task for the night. it’s quiet—too quiet, actually, with the usual streetlights casting strange shadows across the empty sidewalk. the air feels heavy, like something unseen is lingering just out of reach, watching from the dark. you shake it off, telling yourself you’re just tired and letting your nerves get to you.

as you start your walk back to your dorm, the feeling only grows. the street’s nearly empty, and with each step, the silence presses in closer. it’s fine, you tell yourself, picking up your pace. but then you hear it: the echo of footsteps, faint but unmistakable. heart pounding, you speed up, every instinct telling you to just get back. almost there. you just have to cross the alley—

“hey there,” a voice drawls, and your stomach sinks. a hand moves to grab at your shoulder, making you turn quickly. what meets your vision is the same guy from earlier, his grin widening in a way that makes your skin crawl.

you try to move out of his grip, but he grabs you harder, cutting off any escape. “aw, don’t be like that. i just wanted some company.”

your throat’s dry, but you manage, “i said no.”

he doesn’t even pretend to listen, his gaze trailing over you with that same leering interest. “no need to be so uptight. i could make this fun for you.”

your back hits the wall of the alley. trapped. he leans in, his breath warm and sour against your face, one hand reaching out as he says something sleazy that you can barely hear over the pounding in your ears—

and then a voice cuts in from above, all easy humor. “y’know, i always thought this city’s trash problem was bad, but this is something else.”

your heart leaps in your chest at the small flicker of hope, that someone has the balls to try to rescue you. but as you—and this creep—turn, you find no evidence of another party present, only his mysterious presence. 

“who’s there?” the guy snarls, his grip tightening so much that you wince. “why don’t you get lost if you know what’s good for you—”

“dude, don’t you have any rizz?” the mysterious boy retorts.the stranger has a youthful voice, someone of your age.  “the way you have to resort to sexual harassment is just sad. you guys are always sooo predictable, you’re so gonna tell me to scram or something.”

the man scowls, hand leaving your arm in an effort to search for the stranger in the dark. “why don’t you mind your own business, punk—”

and he’s interrupted, because a shiny, silver something flings out in the darkness and lands on his face, sending his arms in a frenzy to uncover what it is. the man rips the sticky, silver webbing off his face with a growl, looking around wildly, his expression shifting from confusion to anger. his eyes dart through the dark alley, searching for the source of that cocky voice, but there’s nothing—just shadows and the faint flicker of a streetlamp somewhere down the block.

“who the hell are you?” he snaps, twisting his neck as if he could scare whoever’s hiding out there into the open. “show yourself, you bastard!”

a chuckle echoes from the darkness, bouncing off the brick walls. “wow, real tough guy, huh? but you should work on those anger issues. they’re, uh…a bit unbecoming.”

the man spins around, and another burst of webbing flies out from somewhere unseen, sticking to his shoulder this time. he yanks it off with a frustrated grunt, his head whipping from side to side as he tries to locate the stranger.

“you think this is funny?” he spits, voice raised in a mix of fear and fury.

“depends. do you?” the voice is closer now, almost like the stranger is right above you, yet no one’s there. “or is this just a big overreaction? all i did was suggest you rethink your approach. go to therapy or sum’.”

the man snarls, fists clenched, starting to look downright unhinged. “get down here and say that to my face, punk!”

“as you wish.”

with a soft thump, a figure drops from above, landing directly in front of the guy in a low crouch. in the dim light, all you see at first are the blue and black accents on the otherwise white suit, his head tilting up, illuminated just enough that his white, wide eyes glow with a certain playful menace. and then, your eyes widen as you gasp to yourself. 

you’ve seen him before.

okay, pause.

you’re a busy college student, one who stays entrenched in the bubble of upcoming exams, assignments, and problem sets that you don’t check the news often. in the off chance you do turn from your usual consumption of social media during your breaks to the news, you only have time to read the big headlines.

so you did read somewhere that in your university’s city of new york city, there was a masked menan—vigilante that had beat up a few guys near a shawarma joint or prevented some shootings at a nightclub. new york city was full of incompetent cops that were on the lookout for him (a/n acabbbbbb) since this guy was a vigilante, some kind of superhero slinging around on webs. some name—spiderman.

but before you could read more into the article, your soul almost left your body when you got a canvas notification saying your midterm was graded, so that was the end of that.

alright, pause over. back to now.

“hi!” spiderman chirps, giving him a friendly wave before ducking just as the man throws a punch. the swing goes wide, and spiderman straightens up with a disappointed sigh. “see, this is why i’m the one with the web powers. you’d hurt yourself with these moves.”

without warning, the man charges again, swinging in rapid succession, but each one misses as spiderman easily sidesteps, practically dancing around him. “oof, dude, how did you make it this far in life with reflexes like that?” he ducks another blow, slipping behind the guy to give him a light tap on the shoulder as he passes.

the man stumbles, eyes flashing with frustration, and lets out a roar, reaching down to pick up a loose brick from the alley floor. he raises it above his head, face twisted in a snarl.

“oh, so we’re improvising now?” spiderman quips, and before the man can bring the brick down, a strand of webbing shoots out, sticking to the brick and yanking it from his grasp. it flies off somewhere into the alley, landing with a dull clatter.

the guy stumbles forward, off balance, and spiderman takes the opportunity to web his feet to the ground, immobilizing him in place. the man struggles, pulling his legs, but he’s stuck fast.

“ever heard of boundaries?” spiderman asks, tilting his head with mock innocence. “or, like, self-restraint? you should look into it.”

the man glares, seething, still struggling against the webs. “you think you’re some kinda hero?” he sneers.

spiderman shrugs, glancing over at you, catching your gaze in a way that makes you feel both strangely comforted and seen. “nah, hero’s a big word. i’m just your friendly neighborhood guy with slightly above-average reflexes.”

with a frustrated yell, the man finally wrenches one arm free and makes a desperate lunge, his fist connecting with spiderman’s side. spiderman lets out a small grunt but only wobbles slightly before grinning. “okay, buddy, playtime’s over.”

before the man can even react, spiderman sends out another web, this time at his wrist, effectively pinning him to the alley wall. he struggles, face twisted in anger, but spiderman just raises a gloved hand to his lips as if hushing a child. then, in the lull that follows, you remember the thick quantum mechanics textbook in your bag. without thinking, you yank it out and, in a burst of adrenaline, swing it at the man’s head. the book lands with a solid thud, and he slumps, finally, into silence.

spiderman looks at the unconscious man, then at the textbook in your hand. he lets out a low whistle. “you know, i’ve always thought textbooks were a weapon of choice, but that’s next-level dedication.” that’s when you realize just how tall he is compared to you, and you can’t help your excitement when you realize that he’s here in the flesh.

“nice hit, by the wa—”

“it’s you!” you exclaim. 

“what?” he sputters, white eyes widening almost comically. “me? oh,” then he straightens up, “yea, yea. just your friendly neighborhood spiderman. rescuing pretty girls from creeps, kinda my thing. ” he shrugs.

you continue, excitedly, “right, you’re the one on the news—” you move your hand to point at him but quickly wince, the pain of the man’s grip catching up to you. 

he doesn’t miss the movement, eyes squinting at you. “hey, we’ll have to get you home. do you trust me?”

you look at him, clutching your arm in pain, and really take a moment to check him out. he’s saved you, he’s probably six feet tall, and his ass looks fantastic in his suit. at this point, you’re looking at him with heart eyes. but you can’t exactly tell him you want him to propose, so all you utter out is a “y-yeah. my dorm’s randall.”

he doesn't waste any time. with a quick nod, he hooks an arm around your waist, pulling you close as he aims a webline up toward the buildings. “hold on tight, randall’s just a swing away,” he murmurs, his voice light but steady. his hand settles on your hip, and you can't stop the way your stomach flips at the contact.

before you can even process what’s happening, he launches the two of you into the air, the city blurring beneath your feet as you cling to him, fingers gripping the fabric of his suit for dear life. his arm stays solid around you, his grip somehow both gentle and strong. he lands lightly on the roof of your dorm, setting you down carefully like you’re something fragile. and he steps back, dusting his hands off in the most nonchalant way possible, like he didn’t just take you on the most exhilarating ride of your life.

“this is your stop,” he says, that signature, almost cocky smile playing in his voice.

“uh… yeah. thanks. for the rescue,” you manage, your voice a little shakier than you’d like. you don’t know if “thank you” is enough—it doesn’t even come close to covering what you feel.

but he just shrugs, taking a step back. “all in a day’s work,” he says. “or night’s work, i guess.” he pauses, giving you a quick once-over. “get some sleep, yeah?”

and just like that, he gives you a small, almost playful salute and vanishes, swinging off into the night as easily as he’d appeared, leaving you standing on the rooftop with your heart still racing.

back in your dorm room, you drop onto your bed, staring up at the ceiling as tonight’s events replay in your head: the alley, his voice cutting through the dark, that cocky smirk, the way he felt holding onto you as you soared over the city lights. a tiny part of you wonders if you imagined the whole thing—if maybe you’re just the victim of some wild, sleep-deprived hallucination.

but no, your arm still aches from where the creep grabbed you, and you can still feel the ghost of his hand on your waist, steady and reassuring. you bite your lip, a smile creeping onto your face despite yourself.

just before sleep finally claims you, you let out a quiet laugh, shaking your head at the absurdity of it all. “the city’s vigilante, huh?” you murmur, as if he’s somehow still listening.

the thought is wild, a bit surreal—and strangely comforting.

…

“one caffe americano!” you call out, reading the label on the cup before handing it over with a small nod. the customer takes it with a quick thanks, and you return to the counter, barely holding back a yawn. the events of last night flicker through your mind—a web-slinging hero, an alley, the lingering ache in your arm—and you shake it off. there’s no room for distractions. life as a college student means the grind never stops, especially on a morning shift right before class.

when your coworker finally arrives, you let out a quiet sigh of relief, grab your bag, and step out into the brisk morning air. the chill helps wake you up as you make your way across campus, hoping to catch up with your friends before the lecture starts. just outside the building, you spot utahime, sitting on a bench, waiting with her usual tired smile.

“hey, finally off the clock?” she asks, raising an eyebrow.

“yeah, barely,” you reply, rolling your eyes. “i’m still running on fumes from last night. you guys save me a seat?”

“of course. nanami’s already inside,” she says, gesturing toward the building.

you sigh. “you won’t believe the things that happened last night.”

she gives you a look, in the traditional utahime protective-mother-hen type way. “what happened?”

you give her the rundown of what happened, the guy (who she bristles at, gives you a slap at your hand to tell you that you should’ve told her earlier, kento would’ve been able to beat his ass if she hadn’t gotten to it first) and how spiderman saved you. “i would give him what he’s missing,” you sigh, dreamily. 

utahime looks at you in a judgmental way. “and that’s all you got from this? for fucks sake, he’s a vigilante, you don’t know if he’s started to tail you or not. pooks, he could literally be dangerous. try to convince your boss to let someone else get your night shift.” as soon as you open your mouth to protest, she cuts you off immediately. “and no, i don’t give a fuck about your people pleaser tendenci—”

“we’ll revisit this conversation later.” you give her a sweet smile as you start to speed walk, door of the lecture hall of the 9am section of phys401: intro to quantum algorithms, falling in with the usual stream of students after you hear an irritated “yea, cause i’m gonna kill you otherwise.” the familiar chatter and echo of footsteps make the day feel almost normal, grounding you as you weave through the hall.

inside, you quickly spot kento’s shining, disney prince-like blonde hair, who has saved seats for the three of you near the middle of the hall, away from the ugly, smelly grad students who always crowd the front. he gives you a quick nod as you settle down beside him, flipping open your notebook. the reliable calm on his face helps ease the lingering jitters you hadn’t realized you were carrying.

“long night?” he asks, glancing at the dark circles under your eyes.

“you could say that,” you mumble, not quite ready to get into details. instead, you wave it off. “just work assignments, and getting jumped, the usual.”

nanami breaks into a series of shocked coughs, and you hurry to pat his back as he undeniably burns his tongue on the coffee he was taking a sip of. “what?”

his rather loud exclamation sets off stares from people sitting closer to you both, so you give utahime, who lets out a quiet groan as she’s settling into her seat beside you, a knowing look. “it’s a long story, i’ll tell it to you later.”

he reluctantly settles in after that, not because he has a choice but because yaga is starting to address the class by asking about the weekend and getting his usual blank stares in return until a voice you recognize as suguru geto’s is saying something to undeniably piss him off, but you don’t register quite what it is exactly because the door opens and any attention on geto is directed to the boy with white hair and blue eyes tiredly walking into class. 

he’s about ten minutes late to the lecture, which is already weird because he’s usually about 27 seconds late, not that you keep count. but also, normally gojo is the picture of confidence and cockyness, making some of the female grad students whisper things about him that you don’t think they should be for the five year gap between them and gojo. 

but today, he looks different—messy, unkempt, with shadows under his eyes and a weird angle to his torso, the way he walks, and the way his opposite hand is subconsciously hovering around his side.

your brows knit together as he heads to an empty seat rows behind you next to geto, ignoring the stares of half the room. it’s so out of character for him that you can’t help but wonder what’s going on. you shoot utahime a knowing look, and she stifles a laugh, barely managing to keep a straight face as she watches gojo slink to his seat. nanami’s usually impassive face exchanges a look with you as well before he turns his attention back to professor yaga’s opening remarks. gojo slides into the row behind you without a word, avoiding everyone’s gaze—or so you think, until you feel it.

as you attempt to listen to professor yaga, you can’t shake the sensation of eyes boring into the back of your head. you resist the urge to turn, telling yourself it’s probably nothing… except the feeling lingers, so strong that your pulse ticks up a notch.

“okay, now that we’re all here,” yaga says in a dry tone, barely able to hide his irritation as he glances pointedly in gojo’s direction, “let’s begin with today’s lecture on grover’s.”

professor yaga taps the board, and the projector switches to a set of slides titled quantum speed-up and the grover search algorithm. he launches into his explanation, voice clipped. “grover’s algorithm provides a quadratic speed-up for unstructured search problems, a notable advantage in quantum computing. but can anyone tell me why this isn’t considered an exponential improvement?”

you raise your hand, as does nanami. a subtle shift of movement in your peripheral vision draws your eye to gojo, who’s leaning back in his chair, arms crossed. yaga’s attention lands on nanami first, and he gives a succinct answer about how grover’s algorithm yields only a quadratic speed-up in terms of computational complexity. as he answers, you swear you catch gojo watching you, again, through the corner of your eye.

determined not to let him get under your skin, you lean over to whisper to nanami. “what’s with him today?”

nanami, still watching yaga, raises a brow. “maybe he finally realized that he can’t get by without skipping class today.”

utahime snickers quietly. “doubtful. more like he thinks it’s funny to waltz in whenever he likes and still ace every test.”

“exactly.” you sigh, drumming your pen against your notebook. gojo’s rare absences don’t even seem to faze most professors. and despite his unpredictable attendance, he’s always managed to stay miles ahead. today, though, something’s… different about him. like he’s made a life changing decision in the past 48 hours.

“moving on,” yaga says, pointing to the board where the next slide materializes. “the heart of grover’s algorithm lies in its use of an amplitude amplification technique, where we iterate a search oracle along with an inversion process. pay attention—this concept of iterative improvement will become key when we start covering variational quantum algorithms.”

as yaga delves deeper into amplitude amplification, you manage to focus, jotting down notes on the necessary steps in grover’s search. yet each time you settle into the lecture, you feel gojo’s gaze pricking at you. the first time you turn around, there’s nothing there—just him slouched, seemingly absorbed in whatever he’s staring at on the ceiling. but then, you sense it again and, on your second glance, you catch his blue eyes meeting yours, and he quickly looks away.

what’s his problem? you give him a questioning look, but he’s adamantly not looking at you, trying to look nonchalant as he’s pulling out his laptop. he might look like a student taking latexing notes of what yaga’s yapping about, but the way he’s using his mouse more than he is his keyboard tells you that he’s probably on papa’s freezeria instead.

you decide that you’re going to waste your time wondering how gojo’s brain functioned, so you instead focus back on the lecture. after all, you didn’t understand any of the lecture notes you took notes on before and what it said about the diffuser in the circuit. 

“now,” yaga’s voice sharpens, pulling you back into the room, “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of being late.” his eyes slide back to gojo, who remains oblivious, leaning back with a smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as the sound of his name brings him back to the lecture.

gojo doesn’t even look phased. instead, he raises a hand casually, like he’s about to ask a simple question. you can feel the anticipation ripple through the room—half the students are waiting to see if he’ll fumble, and the other half already know better.

“professor yaga,” he drawls, “don’t you think amplitude amplification is a bit of an oversimplification? the way it’s typically presented, you’d think grover’s algorithm was just… guessing with style.” he flashes an infuriatingly smug smile, drawing out the pause before continuing. “but we both know it’s more about quantum phase inversion, right? the oracle reflects about the mean state, iterating with a precision that isn’t just luck. or maybe that’s all too technical?” he leans back, feigning innocence.

the smugness in his tone makes something flare up in you, and before you can stop yourself, your hand shoots up.

“actually, gojo,” you interject, your voice louder than you intended, “calling it “guessing with style” is a very gross oversimplification. grover’s algorithm isn’t about intuition or luck. it’s about optimization. it’s not just about spotlighting a target like a rando guess, it’s more like rotating the probability in a controlled manner—with iterations—to amplify the correct solution. not just some quantum trick or guess.” you cross your arms, leaning back in your chair as you stare him down. “it’s not even that bad, compared to what we have classically.”

as soon as you spoke, it seems that the fight and mischievous look in gojo’s eyes fades, replacing it with something that shockingly looks like him being flustered as he averts your gaze, looks to the ceiling, and murmurs something like “yea, that’s basically most of quantum computing, desperately trying to prove we’re not just wasting our time” but yaga interrupts him, clearly a bit annoyed at the two know-it-alls that you and gojo were acting like. 

“now,” yaga says, shifting back to the lecture as if nothing happened (probably because he wasn’t paid enough to deal with this shit), “these iterations act as amplitude amplification steps, so pay close attention—especially those of you who have a habit of missing lectures.”

you’re just left confused as to why the conversation didn’t escalate like the typical academic rivals in movies, because you’ve definitely seen gojo bully some people who didn’t know what the fuck they were talking about instead of just blushing like some schoolgirl. regardless, you can’t help but notice the thrill that you felt, having finally argued with him, having been seen as someone worth arguing. you try to temper it as yaga continues onto the rest of the lecture.

…

“i can’t believe you’re making me go.” you tug at the hem of your white corset, paired with a matching skirt, still incredulous at how utahime managed to talk you into attending one of the infamous halloween frat parties. the night air is crisp against your exposed shoulders, and despite your complaints, you shiver more at the thought of wasting the next few hours among sweaty strangers than the actual cold.

utahime, walking beside you in a devil-red version of your outfit—complete with horns perched precariously on her head—looks far too satisfied with herself. she adjusts the horns with one hand, giving you a sidelong glance that practically drips with smugness.

“stop pouting,” she chides. “i’m not going to let you waste another night holed up in your room, buried in manhwa or quantum physics. i’m pretty sure there are cobwebs growing in your—”

“utahime,” you hiss, cutting her off with a mortified glance around.

“pussy,” she finishes, completely unbothered. “i’m going to find you a guy to hook up with. i’m not saying you have to go all the way, but flirting? kissing? maybe something more? very healthy. highly encouraged.”

your mouth falls open in protest, but before you can get a word in, she fixes you with a sharp glare, her dark eyes flashing with all the authority of a disappointed parent. “don’t even think about arguing with me. i swear, if you don’t at least try to enjoy this, i’ll make it my personal mission to find someone for you.”

“i can’t believe this,” you mutter, crossing your arms. “you’re supposed to be my friend, not my pimp.”

“oh, i’m your friend. that’s why i’m doing this. you’ll thank me when you’re sixty and not crying about how boring your college life was.”

“i’m not boring,” you counter. “i’m selective.”

“sure,” utahime drawls, clearly unconvinced. “and whatever weird sexual tension you’ve got going on with gojo doesn’t count.”

you scoff, stopping in your tracks to stare at her. “what tension? we’ve literally talked once this week. and that was the first time we had a conversation.”

she doesn’t respond, already scanning the scene ahead. the street of frat houses looms just ahead, glowing with gaudy orange lights strung up across balconies. the bass from the nearest party reverberates through the pavement underfoot. it’s already crowded, hordes of people shuffling in and out, laughing, shouting, and showcasing their half-baked halloween costumes.

you follow utahime’s gaze to the nearest house, packed with enough people to make the windows fog up. just the thought of squeezing into that humidity makes your stomach churn.

“looks crowded,” you mumble. “maybe we should—”

before you can suggest retreating, utahime grabs your wrist and practically drags you toward the house. “nope. you’re coming in. no backing out now.”

the moment you step inside, the smell hits you. sweat, stale beer, and an undercurrent of what you can only describe as frat-house musk. your nose wrinkles, and you instinctively recoil, pulling your arm free from utahime’s grasp.

“god, it smells like a gym locker in here,” you say, covering your nose.

utahime doesn’t seem fazed. she’s already scanning the room, her eyes landing on a beer pong table set up in the corner, surrounded by cheering students. “this is perfect!” she says, beaming.

“for what? contracting a fungal infection?” you mutter.

but she’s no longer listening, her focus shifting as a tall, broad-shouldered guy in a makeshift cowboy hat approaches her and then stops in front of both of you, his stare fully enthralled by utahime. “hey,” he says, a bit suavely, in the way that makes you inwardly roll your eyes because you know she’s going to eat it up. she likes it when they’re a little ugly, and this guy fits the bill. 

“hey,” and she giggles, making you have to physically fight the urge to puke, “what’s up?”

 they exchange a few words, and before you know it, she’s smiling in that way that tells you she’s found her entertainment for the night.

“go ahead,” you say dryly, waving her off. “i’ll just fend for myself.”

utahime starts to protest, but you’re already beelining for the kitchen, trying to get a drink that’s not too crazy to survive the night. it’s surprisingly less chaotic in the kitchen, though the counters are cluttered with half-empty bottles, red solo cups, and some questionable punch that looks radioactive. you scan the room, your eyes landing on a cupboard that might hold something simple—like water. a series of ding! ding! ding!’s go off in your mind as you find the pack of plastic water bottles. 

standing on your toes, you reach for the handle, but it’s just out of your grasp. you huff in frustration, shifting to get better leverage when a hand way bigger than yours suddenly appears above yours, effortlessly grabbing the item you were reaching for.

“let me get that for you.”

you turn to thank the person, the words dying on your lips when you see who it is.

gojo.

he’s standing impossibly close, his signature smirk firmly in place, but there’s something almost casual in the way he looks at you, as if this is the most normal interaction in the world. you swear you’re so close that you can see like the two open pores on his otherwise flawless skin, as his eyes inevitably drag themselves downwards to scan your outfit for the night—a shitty angel without wings and halo (you couldn’t be paid two shits to put in the effort; both of the top and skirt were utahime’s, anyways.) then, his eyes meet yours again, a bit of playfulness in them. 

“well, well,” he drawls, handing you the water bottle. “never thought i’d see you here.”

you take the bottle, trying to ignore the brush of his fingers against yours. “didn’t have much of a choice. utahime dragged me.”

his grin widens. “classic. let me guess—she’s off trying to find her soulmate at the beer pong table?”

“something like that,” you mumble, not wanting to give him the entire story. twisting the cap off the bottle,  you take a sip, hoping he’ll just leave you alone, but instead, he leans against the counter, looking entirely too comfortable.

“so,” he says, tilting his head, “i heard through the grapevine that you had a run-in with that spider-man guy this week.”

that makes you pause mid-gulp of water, instead coughing a bit as you try to swallow it down without basically drowning in kirkland signature natural spring water. you’ve only told like, three people outside of kento and iori, so you’re confused why he knows this information, but you continue on regardless. the memory of spider-man swinging in to save you flashes through your mind, and you can’t help but smile softly to yourself. “it was amazing. he’s—he’s incredible, honestly. the way he just swooped in and handled everything? so fast, so precise. he’s like a real-life superhero.”

you’re basically gushing to him, and you realize that a bit too late as you look at his face to gauge his reaction. he’s looking at you with a newfound interest, albeit a bit too conflicted to fully tease you about it when he says, “sounds like you’re smitten.”

“maybe i am,” you admit, laughing. “i mean, who wouldn’t be? he’s brave, he’s kind, and he doesn’t even stick around for the credit. it’s like he’s this selfless, untouchable figure.” you also kind of want to give him a sloppy toppy for saving you like that, but you spare gojo the details. 

“untouchable, huh?” gojo echoes, his tone turning a bit wry and…jealous? “sounds like someone’s got a crush.”

you roll your eyes, but it’s half-hearted, and you think gojo can tell with the way you’re heating up and bashfully looking at the ground. “don’t be ridiculous.”

“i’m just saying,” he continues, leaning closer, “if that’s your type, you might want to raise your standards. superheroes are overrated.”

you raise an eyebrow. “and what, you’re not?”

he grins, that infuriatingly charming grin that makes you want to simultaneously punch him and laugh. “i’m better. i’m real.” he then puts his hands on the counter behind you, caging you between them until your knees are lightly brushing, and suddenly his face is so close that small little breaths from his nose are fanning across your face. “i can prove that to you.”

and you hate your body for being so…reactive and enthusiastic to his smooth-talking, face flushing. despite that, you try to put on an air of nonchalance. “god, you’re insufferable.”

“really?” he teases. his hand leaves the marble counter to hover at your hip, his hand subconsciously tracing your curves an inch above your skin. the motion, firm but tentative as if he’s waiting for you to give him the green light, makes you shiver as you subconsciously move your hips to finally have the skin-to-skin contact. and your skin sings in happiness as he draws circles into the area right below your skirt, even momentarily dipping just below, to which you realize that he’s treading very close to your panties, since your skirt’s really short.

"yea," you basically sigh, hating yourself for how breathy your voice sounds. 

it seems to have an effect on gojo because his eyes darken as he murmurs, "wastin' your time on that spiderman guy."

maybe it's the fact that it's late (you've been getting sub four hours of sleep this past week) or the lights in this humid frat bring a heady air, but all academic-rivalry-overshadowed-woman-in-stem history between you and gojo disappears in your brain as you rake your eyes up and down his torso and then look at him through your lashes. "who should i spend my time on instead?"

he gives you a little smile as he stares down at you, eyes raking over your face, catching at your lips and then going back up again to meet yours. “i don’t know, someone who’s as smart as you,” he murmurs.

“yea?” you laugh out breathlessly. your faces are so close that in normal circumstances, you would worry about how you both looked so close together, one hand on your thigh and the other splayed on your waist. “and how would you know how smart i am?”

satoru starts, lips coming closer and closer. “because i—”

but he’s interrupted, because you both hear a “satoru” and pull apart, breathing heavily as you both turn to look at the offender standing in the entrance of the kitchen: suguru geto, gojo’s best friend, looking more tired than anything as his eyes catch on you, then going to gojo with a pointed look. it’s not hard to figure out what was going on based on how disheveled you both look, your skirt crooked and his shirt crumbled, and your cheeks heat. before you can say anything, however, suguru sighs and says to gojo, “there’s a burglary happening nearby.” then, he turns but not before giving you a nod. “make sure to stay safe.”

he promptly leaves, leaving you confused standing there. was this such an emergency worth noting that he interrupted his best friend?

you try to seek the answer in gojo’s face, but he has this conflicted, annoyed countenance and you suddenly feel kinda of insecure because he’s raking his hand through his hair, staring painfully at the ceiling then at you. at the same time you utter out a “uh–” he says “i have to go.”

“oh.” you blink. a why brews on top of your tongue, but you temper it, reminding yourself that you’re not close to gojo like that. needless to say, you feel a little embarrassed as you watch him jog out of the kitchen with a little wave to you. you want to overanalyze gojo’s last look to you, the one that looked a bit like disappointment and yearning, but you shake it off, staring at the 16.9 oz plastic water bottle in your hand that you forgot about.

taking a sip, you cringe as you become more aware of your surroundings and the state you’re left in because of gojo. that your panties are a bit more sticky—you reach under your skirt to adjust them so they don’t stick to your crotch so much—and you’re hot all over. 

then reality comes crashing back. what the hell did you and gojo just do right now?

you groan out loud, banging your head against the fridge, but as you reel back, in your peripheral you see  someone there. your head shoots to see the guy who’s now looking at you with a weird expression as he undeniably waits for whatever freaking out you were doing to gain access to the fridge. 

“sorry,” you blurt out, and gather yourself to beeline for the exit. god, you needed to find utahime.

…

the soft hum of a tv in the corner of satoru’s apartment provided the only sound, save for the faint rustle of suguru flipping through a textbook. the remnants of takeout—boxes of half-eaten pad thai and a pile of discarded chopsticks—littered the coffee table between them. satoru leaned back on the couch, legs stretched out, staring at the ceiling like it held answers he hadn’t thought to ask yet. he held a small foam ball, tossing it up and catching it over and over. his mind, however, wasn’t focused on the ball but on you.

it was starting to feel like an obsession. he’d always been able to compartmentalize things—his studies, his friends, his other responsibilities. but you? you’d broken through the usual barriers in his head, wedging yourself firmly into every free thought he had.

“do you think she likes me?” he asked suddenly, breaking the quiet.

suguru glanced up from his book, his expression unreadable. “who, starbucks girl?”

satoru scoffed. “she’s not starbucks girl. she’s…” he trailed off, tapping his fingers against his knee. your name lingered on his tongue, oddly weighty in a way that felt almost unfamiliar.

suguru smirked. “oh, she’s got a name now? progress.”

“shut up.”

but he couldn’t shut his mind off, not when you kept taking up space in it. it wasn’t just that he’d noticed you now—really noticed you, for the first time. it was more than that.

satoru had always known who you were. you weren’t exactly easy to miss. in a program full of ugly guys who didn’t shower and loud personalities, you had carved out your niche by being the cold, unreachable one. the one who didn’t bother with group projects unless she had to, who barely engaged in conversations beyond what was strictly necessary. other guys in the program talked about you, of course. they always did.

“frigid,” they called you. “too serious. probably thinks she’s better than us.”

they weren’t entirely wrong. you were better than most of them, but not for the reasons they assumed. satoru had read your work—papers that brimmed with insights that most of their half-baked theories could only dream of. he could tell you put in the effort in your classes and research, while all the guys left shit-talking had to rely on their grad student mentors to be able to write a legible paper. for fucks sake, he doesn’t even thing anyone could code in qiskit or cirq like you could; he had skimmed your notes once, left them behind after a lecture, and found them meticulous and sharp before he turned them into the professor to return to you.

and yet, despite the brilliance you carried with you, you had never given him a second glance.

that day at starbucks, though.

satoru rolled his head to the side, gaze drifting toward the window. he hadn’t expected to see anyone at five in the morning, let alone you. he’d been desperate for answers then—he had spent his night staring at his hands, which had seemed to keep ejecting spider-like webs after he’d been horribly sick. he knew he shouldn’t have gone fooling around in new york’s subway tunnels at 3am with suguru and shoko, but after a seemingly-harmless spider had bit him, he had been reeling from the discovery of his newfound powers and grappling with the weight of what they meant ever since. 

and there you were, unlocking the starbucks, bleary-eyed but no less composed.

you’d handed him his coffee, not interested in him the entire time, and he remembered blurting something out—something ridiculous about fate or responsibility, his usual bravado faltering in the quiet of the moment. he had been spiraling, unsure of who he was anymore, and you’d said something.

what was it again?

“it doesn’t have to be ‘more’ all the time. sometimes just showing up is enough.”

the words had stayed with him, carved deep into the corners of his mind. you didn’t know it, but they had pulled him back from the edge that day. since then, he’d started noticing you in ways he hadn’t before.

the way you brushed your hair behind your ear when you were deep in thought. the furrow of your brow when you argued as respectfully as you could with a professor (gojo knew you were holding back, though, and the thought always made him smile to himself because if he wasn’t an idgafer he would be incensed like you at the idiotic teacher). the smile—rare, fleeting, but utterly disarming—that occasionally lit up your face when you talked to utahime or that guy you were too friendly around, nanami.

“you’re doing that thing again,” suguru said, snapping him out of his thoughts.

“what thing?” satoru asked, sitting up straighter.

“brooding. you’re thinking about her, aren’t you?”

“no.”

suguru arched an eyebrow. “you’re a terrible liar.”

satoru sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. “fine. maybe i am. but it’s complicated.”

“how is it complicated?”

“she doesn’t like me,” satoru said, shrugging. “at least, not as me. she likes spider-man.”

suguru blinked, clearly unimpressed. “you’re being stupid bro.”

“i’m not being stupid,” satoru argued. “she thinks spider-man’s this amazing, selfless hero. she doesn’t know i’m just some guy who can’t even figure out how to flirt with her without making an ass of himself.”

suguru leaned back in his chair, regarding satoru with an almost pitying look. “so let me get this straight. you’re worried that she only likes spider-man, even though spider-man is you. like it’s some kind of split personality thing?”

“well, when you put it like that—”

“it sounds dumb,” suguru finished. “because it is dumb.”

satoru glared at him, but suguru only shrugged.  but how could he not think about you? even now, the memory of your voice—calm, steady, and unexpectedly warm—echoed in his head. you had this way of looking at him, like you were peeling back layers he didn’t even know he had. and that smile... he groaned inwardly. he wasn’t supposed to be so drawn to you, wasn’t supposed to imagine what it’d feel like to have you smile at him like that all the time.

“look,” suguru continued, “if you like her, shoot your shot. you’re already overthinking this, and you haven’t even done anything yet. what’s the worst that could happen? she says no?”

“or she laughs in my face,” satoru muttered.

“which would be deserved, honestly,” suguru said, smirking. “but seriously, you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.”

satoru didn’t respond, his gaze fixed on the takeout boxes on the table. he wanted to believe suguru was right, but there was a small, stubborn part of him that wasn’t so sure.

because it wasn’t just about rejection, or even whether you liked him as satoru or spider-man. it was about what came after. if he let you in and something happened to you—if his double life brought danger to your doorstep—he wasn’t sure he’d ever forgive himself.

but then there was suguru’s voice in his head, steady and persistent: you’ve got nothing to lose. and everything to gain.

…

amidst a week of endless projects upon projects and other miscellaneous assignments from your research group partners (since the grad students loved to pile their work on top of you, the helpless undergrad), you find yourself nursing a hot chocolate while on top of your dormitory building’s roof. 

you find sanctuary, coming on here for time to yourself whenever you find yourself stuck in a busy week. quiet, solitary, with a view of the city lights flickering like scattered fireflies. you hugged your cardigan tighter around your shoulders as you stepped onto the roof, your laptop tucked under one arm, a mug of tea precariously balanced in the other hand. the air was crisp, biting just enough to sting your cheeks.

setting your mug down on the ledge, you perched beside it, pulling up your knees and balancing the laptop precariously as you typed. the words on the screen blurred after a while, blending into the chaos in your mind. frustrated, you closed it with a snap and leaned your head back to gaze at the stars.

“rough night?”

you startled, spinning your head around so fast your tea nearly toppled. but you can’t find anyone, just the sound of soft footsteps landing somewhere not visible to you. 

“you scared the hell out of me,” you sighed, clutching your chest.

“sorry,” he said, though his tone didn’t sound all that apologetic. “didn’t mean to interrupt.”

“then maybe don’t sneak up on people like that,” you muttered, still trying to calm your racing heart.

he chuckled, and the sound was warmer than you’d expected. “noted. so, what’s got you out here at three in the morning? don’t tell me you’re pulling an all-nighter.”

you sighed, the initial shock fading into a dull thrum of shyness. “it’s not an all-nighter if the night isn’t over yet.” then, you squint at a random spot, pretending it’s him. “besides, why are you here? shouldn’t you be out stopping robberies or saving cats from trees?”

“done and done,” he said, crossing his arms as he leaned against the ledge. “now i’m just enjoying the view.”

you turned your gaze back to the skyline, hoping the darkness hid the faint heat creeping up your neck. “so, what’s a guy like you doing on a random rooftop at three in the morning?”

“could ask you the same thing,” he countered.

you hesitated. for some reason, admitting the truth to him felt easier than admitting it to anyone else. “just…needed a break.”

“from?”

“everything,” you said, exhaling slowly. “classes. expectations. people.” you paused, then added with a faint smile, “not you, though. you’re an exception.”

“oh?” his voice lightened, carrying a hint of playful intrigue. “should i feel honored?”

“maybe,” you said. “it’s not every day you get to meet a real hero.” then, “okay, but why do you always hide in the dark?”

his voice is smug, meant to be playful. “it adds to the mystique?”

you pout. “what if i call the police?”

“it’s not like the cops can catch me anyways, baby. their shitty coffee and donut filled asses aren’t enough to keep up with me.”

you really try not to flush when he calls you that pet name. “is success getting to you?”

“what success? most i hear is everyone debating whether or not i should be experimented on.”

“really?” you teased. “that’s not what i saw on my for you page last time. there are girls out there who want you to sign their tits after you rescued that baby.”

then, you hear the soft thud of nimble feet dropping onto the ceiling and turn your head to see him in all his glory. he has a muscular figure highlighted in his white suit, blue and black lines traveling their way across his body. casually, he stretches and then drops down to the floor, sitting cross legged from across from you as if joining you in a regular gossip sesh. he puts his elbow on his knee and rests his head on his hand. “are you one of those girls?”

you laugh sheepishly, turning away as heat creeps up your face again and your heart hammers, because you can’t exactly tell him that, yes you’re absolutely enamored with him after he saved you that day and yes, you do indeed want him to sign your tits.

“you should do that more,” he said.

“what?” you look back at him, wide eyed in confusion. 

“laugh.”

the way he said it, low and almost reverent, made your cheeks heat. you busy yourself with toying with your cardigan, scooting yourself away from the edge and closer to him. “and you should stop being such a flirt,” you said, though there was no bite in your voice.

“can’t help it,” he said, leaning closer. “it’s kind of my thing.”

“is that right?”

“mm-hmm.” he paused, then added, “you know, there’s something i’ve been meaning to ask you.”

“what?” you asked, arching an eyebrow.

“take my mask off.”

the words hit you like a gut punch, dissolving the playfulness that had filled the air seconds ago. you blinked up at him, searching his face—or at least what you could see of it—for any sign that this was some elaborate joke. but there was no hint of humor, no smirk tugging at his lips. he meant it.

your fingers hovered at your sides, hesitant. “are you sure?” the question came out soft, barely audible, but it felt like it echoed in the quiet night.

“never been more sure of anything,” he murmured, voice low and steady.

you swallowed hard, your heart hammering in your chest. slowly, almost against your better judgment, you reached up, fingertips brushing the edge of his mask. the fabric felt smooth, warm under your touch, but your nerves were anything but.

with a deep breath, you peeled it back. bit by bit, his face came into view—a shock of white hair, impossibly sharp features, and finally, those eyes. those unmistakable, infuriatingly familiar blue eyes. your breath caught, and for a moment, the world tilted sideways.

“gojo?”

the name fell from your lips before you could stop it, unsteady and disbelieving. your mind raced, trying to piece together the impossible puzzle that had just landed in front of you.

he grinned—that grin, the one that always made you want to slap it off his face and yet somehow managed to disarm you every single time. “hey.”

“hey?” your voice cracked as you took a step back. “that’s all you have to say? hey?”

“would you prefer, ‘surprise’?” he quipped, his grin widening as though this was the most normal thing in the world.

you laughed, the sound a little hysterical but real, like you couldn’t contain the storm of emotions rushing through you. “surprised? you’ve been… you’ve been spider-man this whole time?” the words felt foreign on your tongue, like they didn’t belong in the same sentence as gojo satoru—the one you’d argued with in class, the one who had no problem making you want to tear your hair out. and yet here he was, standing in front of you, the last person you ever would have suspected to be the city’s most infamous masked hero.

gojo gave you that crooked grin, the same one he wore when he thought he had won—when he thought he had it all figured out. “i know. it’s a lot to take in.”

you stared at him, trying to make sense of it, but no amount of logic could bridge the gap between the gojo you knew—the guy who drove you up the wall in class and always had a cocky comeback—and the masked hero who had saved you and the one you had a crush on.

you didn’t know whether to scream, laugh, or cry. 

you take a shaky breath in, still trying to process everything. “you... you saved me, gojo. you’ve been right there, all these times, and i had no idea it was you.”

“guess i’m just that good at keeping secrets,” he said, his tone playful, but there was something more there, something softer, that you couldn’t quite put your finger on. his eyes held a flicker of something—maybe vulnerability, maybe uncertainty.

the weight of the moment hung thick in the air between you, and for a long second, you didn’t know what to say. this revelation was like the ground beneath you had cracked wide open, and you were left staring into an abyss that was both terrifying and exhilarating.

finally, you shook your head, letting out a short breath. “this is insane.”

he didn’t seem bothered by your reaction, though his eyes darkened just slightly, the smirk still there, but with something a little more honest creeping into his expression. “yeah. but you’re handling it better than i thought. kinda thought you would faint, or something.”

the world had shifted, but somehow, with gojo now sitting in front of you like this, with the mask off and the man behind the myth revealed, it felt like the pieces were finally starting to fall into place. even if they didn’t make perfect sense yet.

and yet, something about his presence—his undeniable realness—felt oddly grounding. he wasn’t the invincible spider-man anymore. he was just gojo. the gojo who had somehow become more than just your academic rival, and maybe, just maybe, a little bit more than that.

something in gojo’s facial expression shifted to something a bit more hesitant, a little nervous as he stands and extend his arm out to you. softly, he asks, “do you trust me?”

“yes.” you took his hand, standing up as he flashes you a charming, yet mischievous grin, one so shit eating that you regret saying that. “why?”

“i’m taking you for a ride. consider it an apology for freaking you out earlier.”

you hesitated, looking between his outstretched hand and the city skyline just beyond your college campus. “i don’t think this is a good idea—”

“you trust me, don’t you?”

and somehow, against all logic, you realized that you did.

“fine,” you said, stepping closer to him to cling onto him. 

he pulls you closer, and as he does so, he cranes his neck down to meet your eyes, smiling giddy. “anywhere you wanna go?”

you think for a moment, but know immediately the place where you’d like to visit that’s open at this ungodly hour. “do you know that one shawarma joint—-”

before you can even finish, the wind whips around you as gojo slips his mask back on, pulls you closer to him, and uses his free hand—that is, the one that’s not clinging onto your firmly—to shoot a glistening web, one that you saw when he used it on the man who harassed you in the ally. it clings onto a nearby building, and then you’re off the ground, soaring through the air.

you let out a scream of terror against gojo’s chest, tightening your arms around him. you can feel a laugh rumble in his chest, a boyish chuckle as he peers down at you and shouts, “are you having fun?” 

“gojo,” you whine, burying your head into his chest further. despite your initial fear, exhilaration creeps its way into you as you the city blur, skyline jumping and dipping as gojo effortlessly swung you both around. 

when he finally stopped, landing gracefully on a secluded rooftop, you were breathless—not just from the ride but from the way he was looking at you.

“you good?” he laughed, panting from the exertion and tenderly using his hand to rake his hand through your  hair, which, you note out of embarrassment, must’ve been messed up from the wind passing through it.

“i hate that you made me dizzy, but yea, i’m good,” you mumble, pulling out your phone to open your camera, fixing your hair.

when you’re done, gojo looks at you with the manic buzz you can only have at 3am. “ready to get some shawarma?”

…

the streets were eerily quiet, the kind of silence only a city at 3am could have. just the two of you, your footsteps echoing against the pavement, the occasional glow of a streetlamp painting your path.

“okay, that shawarma was like, mid at best,” gojo walks alongside you. he’s thrown on a sweatshirt and gray sweatpants over his suit, walking alongside you on the street. your stomachs are full, and you suggested a walk to be able to digest the bigass bowl you both ate.

“nothing tastes better than something you’re eating when you’re supposed to be studying, instead,” you shot back, hiding your little smile as you cross your arms while strolling. the shift between you and gojo was so jarring that you’re still reeling at it, but what is 3am if not for big life changes?

“yea, that’s fair,” he sighs, crossing his hands behind his head as he continues strolling beside you.  “so,” he continues, “now that i’ve officially blown your mind with my secret identity and fed you some incredibly mid shawarma, what’s next? should i fly you to paris, or is that too cliché?”

you roll your eyes, but deep inside, you’re really biting back a grin. “relax, bugboy. maybe first let me recover from being swung like a human pendulum.”

gojo stopped walking, turning to face you with a playful glint in his eye. “you’re still thinking about that, huh? admit it—you loved it.”

you raised an eyebrow. “i screamed into your chest for a solid ten seconds. does that sound like love to you?”

he tilted his head, feigning deep thought. “i dunno. there’s a fine line between terror and thrill. and judging by how tightly you were holding onto me…”

“you’re insufferable,” you muttered, but your voice lacked bite.

“and yet, you’re still here.”

his words hung in the air, the playful edge softening into something quieter, more sincere. your steps faltered, and you looked up at him, the absurdity of the night fading into the background as your gaze held his.

“guess i’m curious,” you admitted.

“curious, huh?” he said, taking a step closer. “careful. curiosity killed the cat.”

without thinking, you blurted, “at least i’ve got a fifty-fifty shot, right?” the words barely left your mouth before the regret hit, your inner voice screaming at you for making a lame quantum mechanics joke at a time like this. schrödinger would be proud, you thought bitterly.

but then gojo laughed—not the teasing, obnoxious kind of laugh or the weird look you’d expect, but a genuine, boyish chuckle that reached his eyes. he smiled at you, soft and unguarded, and suddenly, the space between you seemed to shrink.

the flickering streetlamp cast a warm, uneven glow over the two of you. in that moment, the sprawling city felt impossibly small, narrowed down to just him and the pounding of your heart in your ears.

gojo reached up, fingers brushing a stray strand of hair away from your face. “you know,” he murmured, his voice low, “i’ve been wanting to do this for a while now.”

your breath hitched, heart thundering in your chest. “do what?”

“this.”

before you could respond, he closed the space between you, his lips brushing against yours in a kiss that was somehow both soft, yet electrifying. for a moment, time seemed to stop, the city around you fading into nothing as the warmth of his touch anchored you in the moment.

when he finally pulled back, his grin was back in full force. “so, was that better or worse than shawarma?”

you blinked at him, still trying to find your footing in the aftermath of what just happened. an immediate feeling of bashfulness crept over you because not only did you just kiss spiderman, you just kissed gojo. there are girls who would kill to be in your position, and that makes you flustered as you turn your head away from him so you don’t have to make eye contact. “i hate you,” you mumble half heartedly, cheeks burning.

gojo doesn’t let you off so easily. his thumb brushes gently along your chin, coaxing your face back toward his. his touch is warm, deliberate, and it sends a shiver down your spine.

“oh my god,” he says, a grin spreading across his face. “are you embarrassed? you’re so cute.”

when the warmth of his hand leaves your chin, you open your eyes, shocked as you find out that he’s nowhere to be seen. you call out a tentative, “gojo?” 

somewhere behind you, to the left, comes out a muffled shout. “i’m here!” you whip around, your brows furrowing as you follow the direction of his voice. it’s coming from an alley just off the street, dark and bathed in shadows.

“seriously?” you mutter under your breath, your annoyance half-hearted, making your way toward the sound. you find yourself at the mouth of the alley, the dim glow of a distant lamp barely illuminating his silhouette.

gojo’s perched on the side of the wall like it’s the most natural thing in the world, one leg propped up, his mask pulled halfway up to reveal that damn smirk. “you’re slow,” he teases, his tone light and infuriatingly smug.

“what are you doing?” you ask, crossing your arms.

he gestures toward himself. “you came looking for me, didn’t you?”

you roll your eyes, stepping closer despite yourself. “what, did you think i’d just leave you lurking in some alley like a creepy insect?”

“well,” he says, shooting a web to stick on the bottom of some stairs of one of the buildings to hang upside down, “you could’ve left, but i had a feeling you wouldn’t.”

before you could retort, he shoots his web closer to something on top of you, now dangling upside down yet again but his proximity even closer, stealing the air from your lungs. his fingers brush a strand of hair from your face, lingering just long enough to make your knees feel unsteady.

“so,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing, “are we doing this again, or are you gonna keep pretending you hate me?”

your heart stutters, but before you can overthink it, you pull his mask down even further to uncover more of his lips, and you join them together—this time, softer, slower, as if savoring the moment. you grab at his chin to pull him closer to you, you both sighing into the kiss, and then smiling giddily each time you pull back, only to come back in.

and just like that, you start to fall into…something with not only the vigilante that’s swinging around new york, but also gojo satoru, your long-time rival.

…

when satoru swings by your dorm next, he doesn’t expect his heart to lurch so much at the view of you so cozy.

it’s undeniable; you and satoru have been dancing around each other. you’re not exactly a hook-up to each other—you two haven’t had sex—but you’re not exactly girlfriend and boyfriend. and it’s not something casual, either. he doesn’t reveal that he’s spiderman just to get into girls’ pants. 

you’ve both developed a sort of rapport, he supposes. it’s been stolen glances during phys401 and late nights spent talking or, occasionally, making out. you’ve even started to nurse his wounds, if he ever shows up with bruises and blood matting his suit. one of the perks of you having a single. 

he’s even fallen asleep overnight, especially on friday nights when he doesn’t have lecture in the morning. some of his things, like some spare equipment and suits, have even found their way into your closet. 

you’re both on a dangerous roller coaster, and satoru is closing his eyes on the fall down. 

but right now, he’s perched outside your window like a creep. you’re sitting on your bed, cross-legged and squinting at something on your laptop, and satoru smiles to himself as he sees your tank top and shorts and just how homey you look. you probably know satoru is coming, but you’re so comfortable around him that it makes his heart ache. he shouldn’t be doing this, but he can’t stop.

satoru lightly taps on your window, his knuckle brushing against the glass softly, not wanting to startle you. you glance up, catching sight of him, and there’s no hiding the smile tugging at your lips.

you get up, and satoru follows the movement of your bare legs with his eyes as you slide the window open. “you know, most people knock on doors like normal humans,” you say.

“i like to keep things interesting,” he shoots back, climbing in effortlessly. the faint chill from the night clings to him, and his hair is slightly disheveled from the wind.

he glances around your room, catching sight of your scattered notes and the distinct look of frustration etched across your face. “what’s got you looking so miserable?”

“phys401,” you reply with a resigned sigh, flopping back onto your bed. “this problem set is impossible.”

satoru smirks, peeling off his gloves and mask and plopping down beside you. “let me see.”

acquiescing, you hand over your notebook, watching as he scans your work with intent, eyebrows scrunching as he tries to understand the statement to prove. he makes a few thoughtful noises, before grabbing a pen and scribbling something down. “here,” he says after a moment, “you’re overcomplicating this step. instead of doing the tensor product you did, you could just make this zero by taking an inner product, since they’re orthogonal states. the rest will fall into place.”

you squint at his messy, rushed handwriting, and sure enough, the proof seems to come together. “how are you so good at this?” 

“physics prodigy, remember?” he teases, leaning back on his hands as he lays down on your bed.

“thanks for the help,” you say softly, your eyes lingering on him a beat too long. he’s kind of dreamy, you think. the moonlight filters across your window, giving his platinum hair a sheen as his cerulean eyes look into yours with kindness. 

his smirk fades, replaced by something softer, something unspoken. “anytime.” he then makes a show of stretching out his limbs, purposely bumping into you with one eye open smugly to observe your reaction, to which you glare at him. he spots your notebook, picks it up, and flips through it. “you know, for someone who complains so much about phys401, you’re not half bad at it,” he teases, scribbling something in the margin of your notes by grabbing a stray pen next to him.  

you roll your eyes, shifting so you’re cross-legged on the bed, facing him. “not all of us are physics prodigies, satoru. some of us actually have to work hard.”  

he chuckles, handing the notebook back to you. “hard work is overrated when you can just charm your way through everything.”  

you snort and joke, “if charm was all it took, i’d have aced the midterm.”  

there’s a beat of silence as you glance down at his notes. he’s corrected a mistake you hadn’t even noticed, and his scrawled proof flows so effortlessly it makes you a little envious. “how do you do that?” you ask, more to yourself than him.  

“do what?”  

“make it look so… easy,” you say, frowning slightly. “everything. physics, life, swinging through the city.”  

satoru leans back on his palms, his smirk softening. “trust me, it’s not as easy as it looks.”  

you glance up at him, surprised by the honesty in his tone. “what do you mean?”  

he shrugs, but there’s something vulnerable in the way his gaze flickers away from yours. “i mean, everyone sees the guy with the jokes and the perfect test scores, but no one sees the late nights or the bruises.” he gestures vaguely to his chest, where you know the bruises from his spider-man escapades hide. “guess i’m just good at pretending.”  

you sit with his words, the weight of them settling between you. “you don’t have to pretend with me, you know,” you say softly.  

his eyes meet yours, and for a moment, the mask—the real one—drops. “i know,” he says, just as softly.  

the air between you feels heavier, like the world has shrunk to just the two of you. you’re hyper-aware of how close he is, the faint smell of the night clinging to him, the way his knee brushes against yours.  

“thanks,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “for letting me be here. for…” he trails off, his gaze dropping to your lips before flicking back up.  

your breath catches. “satoru…”  

“yeah?” he says, leaning in slightly, his voice lower now.  

“i…” you trail off, not even sure what you were going to say.  

he leans closer, and it feels like everything around you stills. his hand finds its way to your face, his thumb brushing your cheek. “can i?” he asks, his voice barely audible.  

you nod, and then his lips are on yours.  

the kiss starts tentative, almost shy, but it doesn’t stay that way for long. it deepens, his hand sliding to your waist as you pull him closer. the tension that had been building for weeks—months, maybe—finally snaps, leaving nothing but heat and want in its wake.  

his weight presses you back into the bed, and you can feel his heart racing against yours as he pins you to the bed, now on top of you. his hand slips under the hem of your shirt, warm against your skin, and as his thumb traces shapes into your circle and closer to more sensitive areas, a sigh escapes you.  

that’s when he freezes.  

he pulls back, his breathing uneven, his eyes wide and filled with something like fear. “we can’t,” he says, his voice hoarse.  

your heart drops into your chest.

“why not?” you ask, trying to catch your breath.  

“because,” he says, sitting up and running a hand through his hair and he’s heaving. “because i’m spider-man, and you—” he breaks off, looking anywhere but at you. “you deserve better than this. better than me.”  

you sit up, pulling your shirt back into place and looking at him, hurt. “that’s not your call to make, satoru.”  

“i’m trying to protect you!” he says, his voice rising in agitation. he sits back onto his heels, raking a hand through his hair as he looks at the ceiling, as if in pain.

you can’t believe him. his self-righteousness irritates you to no end, especially after you’ve bared your soul, and now your body to him, something you considered intimate. you feel conflicted—whatever you had, it didn’t have a label. but that didn’t mean that you didn’t want that to be true. badly.

“and who asked you to?” you snap back. “i’m not some damsel in distress who needs saving.”  

“i know that,” he says, his tone softening. “but if something happened to you because of me…” he shakes his head. “i couldn’t live with that.”  

the anger bubbling in your chest boils over, and you snap. “so what? you’re just going to walk away? after everything?”  

he stands, his expression pained. “i’m sorry,” he says, heading for the window.  

“don’t you dare apologize,” you say, your voice trembling as you stand by the foot of your bed, hating how your eyes brim with tears. “if you leave, don’t bother coming back.”  

he pauses, his hand on the window frame, before glancing back at you. “i’m sorry,” he says again, softer this time, before slipping out into the night.  

the window clicks shut behind him, and you’re left alone in the silence, the ache in your chest threatening to swallow you whole. 

…

the whir of the espresso machine and the gentle hum of background music fill the mostly empty starbucks, the occasional customer wandering in like clockwork. it’s a quiet shift, the kind you’d usually relish—except today, the quiet only makes the knot in your chest tighten.

you’re stationed behind the counter, staring blankly at the milk steamer as it hisses, lost in your thoughts. that is, until utahime’s voice breaks through.

“alright, spill,” she says, leaning her elbows on the counter beside you.

you glance at her, eyebrows raised. “spill what?”

utahime rolls her eyes, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. “oh, please. you look like someone stole your favorite pen and broke it in half. what’s going on?”

“nothing,” you lie, turning back to the steamer. “i’m fine.”

utahime’s skeptical gaze bores into you. “you’re a terrible liar. nanami, back me up.”

from his spot at a nearby table, nanami looks up from his book, his sharp eyes narrowing as they lock onto you. “it’s boy trouble,” he says flatly, like he’s solving an equation.

your head snaps toward him, a glare already forming. “excuse me?”

“it’s obvious,” he says, setting his book down and regarding you with his usual piercing gaze. “you’re distracted, you look upset—it’s boy trouble.”

utahime perks up, leaning closer. “wait, is he right? is this about a guy?”

you let out a groan, leaning your elbows on the counter. “can you two not gang up on me right now?”

“so it is a guy,” utahime says, her tone turning smug.

“i didn’t say that,” you retort, but the heat in your cheeks betrays you.

nanami raises an eyebrow, clearly unimpressed with your deflection. “you might as well just tell us. it’s not like we’re going to let it go.”

you sigh, running a hand through your hair. “fine. it’s… someone i liked. someone i thought liked me too. but he freaked out and said it was too…dangerous to keep going.”

utahime frowns, her curiosity replaced by concern while kento snorts. “dangerous? what does that even mean?”

“that’s what i’d like to know,” you say bitterly, the frustration bubbling up as you speak. “he acts like he cares, but the second things get serious, he bolts. like i’m some fragile thing that can’t handle it.”

nanami leans back in his chair, his expression thoughtful. “he might not be scared of you. he could be scared of what it means for him. of responsibility and commitment. some people run when they feel too much.”

utahime nods, her hand resting gently on your arm. “whatever his problem is, it’s not fair to you. if he can’t get it together, that’s on him, not you.”

you glance between them, the weight of their words settling in your chest. “i know that,” you say quietly. “it just… sucks.”

“of course it does,” utahime says, her voice soft but firm. “but you’re not the problem here. don’t let him make you think you are.”

nanami picks up his book again but pauses before opening it. “and don’t let him live rent-free in your head. if he can’t see what he’s giving up, that’s his loss.”

their support feels grounding, like a steady hand in the middle of a storm. you manage a small smile, nodding. “thanks, guys.”

“anytime,” utahime says, flashing you a reassuring grin. nanami simply nods, returning to his book but keeping an eye on you like always. for the first time all week since gojo left your room, the heaviness in your chest feels a little lighter.

…

the knock at your window is faint, almost timid, but it jolts you out of your daze. you sit up in bed, your heart pounding as your eyes dart toward the window. it’s late—so late it’s early—and for a moment, you think you imagined it. you hate to admit it, but because of your boy troubles you haven’t been able to sleep all week. you’re also no stranger to imagining ants crawling up your body or phantom noises, so you adjust in your bed, trying to go back to sleep.

then it comes again, a little louder this time.

you throw off the blanket and pad over, the chill of the floor biting at your bare feet. when you pull the curtain aside, your breath catches.

satoru.

he’s crouched outside, his suit torn in places and soaked with blood. his head lolls slightly, like he’s barely holding himself up, and when he lifts his gaze to meet yours, it’s tired and pleading.

you don’t think—there’s no time for that. you unlatch the window and shove it open, reaching out to help him inside. “satoru, oh my god,” you breathe, your voice shaking.

“hey,” he mutters, his grin weak but still so unmistakably him. “sorry for the mess.”

“shut up,” you snap, guiding him onto your bed and setting him down with gentle hands, ones that contrast your tone with him. “what the hell happened?”

“nothing i couldn’t handle,” he says, wincing as he tries to sit up straighter and flashes you a sheepish smile. “you should see the other guy.”

“you’re bleeding everywhere, satoru. you clearly didn’t handle it.” you grab your first aid kit from under the bed and yank it open, your hands trembling.

“i’ve had worse,” he murmurs, but his bravado is thin, cracking at the edges.

“stop talking,” you say, your voice trembling and cracking. “just—just stop.”

for once, you thank the gods that he listens.

you work quickly, cutting away the shredded fabric of his suit and cleaning the worst of the wounds. it’s not pretty—his torso is littered with bruises and gashes, the kind that make your stomach turn—but you keep your focus.

when you press a disinfectant-soaked pad to a particularly deep cut, he hisses, his hand flying to grab your wrist.

“sorry,” you whisper, glancing up at him with a tender look in your eyes. his expression matches yours, and your faces are so close to each other that you can’t bear it anymore, going back to your work.

his fingers loosen but don’t let go, his grip warm and grounding. “you’re good at this,” he says softly, his voice rough.

“yeah, well,” you mutter, ducking your head to avoid his gaze. “you’ve given me plenty of practice.”

the silence stretches as you finish bandaging him up. when you’re done, you sit back, your hands still trembling as you place them in your lap. “you’re an idiot,” you say, the words tumbling out before you can stop them.

he laughs, soft and hoarse. “yeah. i get that a lot from this girl i know.”

you look up at him, and the weight of everything—his injuries, his secret, the distance he tried to put between you—crashes over you. “you can’t keep doing this, satoru. you can’t keep pushing me away just to show up like this.”

his smile fades, replaced by something raw and unguarded. “i know,” he says, his voice barely above a whisper. “i know, but…”

“but what?” you demand, your voice cracking. “you’re spider-man? you think that’s an excuse to keep shutting me out?”

“it’s not an excuse,” he says, running a hand through his messy hair, matted with even more blood. his or someone else’s, you’re not sure. “it’s a reason. i don’t want you to get hurt because of me.”

“you think i’m not already hurting?” you snap, the anger bubbling to the surface yet again. “you think it doesn’t kill me to see you like this and know i can’t do anything to stop it?”

his eyes widen, and for a moment, he looks like a little boy, lost and unsure. it is then that it hits you that he’s just twenty. a college student, not someone who’s wanted by the cia or someone who’s battled terrorists. for fucks sake, he can’t even legally drink. 

and your heart can’t help but melt as he says, “i just… i don’t want to lose you.”

“then stop trying to,” you say, your voice softer now. “stop pretending like you’re protecting me by keeping me at arm’s length. let me in, satoru.”

he stares at you, his breath hitching like he’s holding back a thousand words. then, in a rush, he closes the distance between you, his hands cradling your face as he presses his forehead to yours.

“i’m sorry,” he whispers, his voice breaking. “i’m so sorry.”

you exhale shakily, your hands finding their way to his wrists. “just stop being an idiot, okay? stop trying to do this alone.”

he nods, his grip tightening like he’s afraid you’ll slip away. “i promise,” he says, and for the first time, you believe him.

…

a cramp gripping satoru’s entire leg is what wakes him up. 

he winces in memory of the injury; one of those stupid terrorists had too good of an aim, grazing his leg while he was mid-air. it hurts like a bitch now, and he moves to lay on his back, until something stops him. roses.

he looks, bleary eyed, to you. the floral scent coming from you, making him dizzy. his body cocooning yours. 

you both unconsciously moved in your sleep so that you were spooning, your fragrant hair, soft from shampooing, tickling his throat with your ass in his crotch.

nestled right against his morning wood.

good fucking lord, he groans to himself, then starts to panic because if you wake up and realize he had a raging hard-on while you were sleeping, you would definitely think he was a creep. he’s already on thin fucking ice. so naturally, he starts to recite the star spangled banner while trying to will his boner away.

oh, say can you see—

to no avail, because you huff softly in your sleep, soft and warm body unconsciously leaning back to grind your ass against his lap, turning his dick to steel.

“oh, fuck,” he curses out loud, using his hand to cover the lower half of his face and clench his eyes shut. you feel so sweet, innocently adjusting while he can’t even control his lust for you.

but once the grind seems to continue for a bit too long, more than what can be chalked up as adjusting in your sleep, he peers down at you. you’re awake. 

and because satoru’s selfish, his hands creep up your tank top, settling on your bare stomach, where he knew you were ticklish. as a result, you wiggle, and he uses this opportunity to pull you even closer to him, right up against him. 

“baby,” he says, making his voice all deep and sighs on purpose, just to be unfair to you. “is this okay?”

you whine, and he settles his face in your hair, the strands of it tickling his skin as he inhales in the scent of you. “i thought it was a dream.”

he smiles into your hair. you make him feel like sunshine incarnate, and the rush he’s getting right now is akin to the one he gets jumping off the empire state building. “no, this is very real.”

“hm,” and you continue to drag your ass into him, murmuring in a soft voice that makes him want to take you right there and then, “it still feels like a dream. like you’re not real, right now.”

oh, what he would do to make you say his name in that same voice; he wants to whisper all the things he wants to do to you right now. “i know, baby. you feel like a dream.” his hands continue to slide up and up your torso, groaning at your sharp intake as he gently fondles the softness of your breasts. 

you overwhelm his senses, teasing him, and when you let out a whine of his name, satoru snaps.

“i’m going to make you feel good right now. tell me if it’s a fucking dream,” he grits out, ignoring whatever cramps that were screaming at him to get on top of you. 

you gasp out a “satoru,” wriggling in his grasp, and he can’t take it anymore. he brings up one of his hands. shoots a web that lands right on your left hand. then your right hand.

satoru just tied you up using his webs.

you look at him in whatever version of shock you can muster in your tired state. “satoru, what the—” but you’re muffled, because he’s kissing you, hard, roving his hands up and down your body and grabbing whatever he can as if he’s devouring you while making out with you.

“do you know,” and his eyes flash dangerously while looking down at yours, “how you’ve teased me with these shorts?” his hands trails down to the waistband of the offending piece of clothing, pulling it to make it snap against your skin. you jump, looking at satoru desperately, who’s left you bare at his mercy, subject to his super human strength as he grabs your shorts with both his hands again. “every fucking time i’ve sneaked up in to your room, it’s been so hard to not fuck you senseless in these flimsy things. it’s only fair you pay the price, right baby?”

it’s not like you have anything to answer him with, having lost all brain cells being fucked out like this. he pulls them down, and if he had laser vision, he would have stared through your panties long ago, eyes fixated on the crotch that was nearly translucent with the amount of slick going through it. burying his face right in between your thighs, he noses at your cunt before groaning. then, he uses his teeth to grab onto the middle and pull. until your pussy is bare to him.

“oh, fuck you’re so pretty,” he curses, lapping at your sweetness. his tongue roves up and down your folds, and if your hands could, they would be pulling at his hair solely because you were so sensitive. but you were trapped, thighs gripped in his strong hands and your arms trapped by his ultra-strong webs. “my good girl.”

then, you feel pressure at your opening. “sato—” you squeal but are immediately interrupted by your own moan as he curls his long, thick fingers, eyes observing your every movement as you squirm, electric shocks running up and down your body as he hits your spot dead-on.

and he notices, because the motherfucker chuckles. “oh, so that’s the spot, huh?” he purrs, visibly pleased as he memorizes it and abuses it, hitting it with every stroke. you barely notice him add one finger, add two fingers as he starts to suck on your clit. overwhelmed with pleasure, you’re only brought back to reality when he rips all contact away from you.

“what—” you mumble mindlessly, until you see what he’s doing. he pulls his sweatpants down. and he’s not wearing boxers, so you drool when his cock springs out, leaking copiously and hard. without taking his eyes off you, he pumps it to its fullest length, and you’re just staring in awe at its sheer length.

“what’re you looking at, baby?” he teases, using his hand to wiggle his cock in front of your face to mock you. “want it so bad, isn’t that right?”

you glare at him half-heartedly, but whine regardless. “just put it in, gojo.”

“oh,” and he flashes you a smile that makes a big danger sign in red flash across your mind. “it’s gojo, now is it?”

 “satoru,” there are tears brimming in the corner of your eyes, the ones that make satoru even more aroused at your want, “please. i need it.”

a boyish grin and a forehead kiss that has you reeling at his duality. “anything for my woman in stem.” with that, he pushes in, both of your eyes rolling back as his cock is engulfed by your gummy walls. soon after, he starts thrusting, desperation fueling both of you as you cross your legs behind gojo’s back, the deeper angle making his thighs shake while fucking into you. 

he grabs your face, gives you a tender kiss. “fuck, i love this pussy. so sweet for me.” 

you give him a wanton moan in return as he continues to thrust deep, tender strokes into you. “satoru, ‘m not gonna last long.” with the amount of foreplay he’s done alongside how sensitive you are, you’re steadily reaching your orgasm already, and with the way satoru’s now tightly gripping the sheets beside you while thrusting inside you, he is too.

wet squelching noises echoes across the room, and you know the neighbors can hear the obscene plap! plap! plap! coming from skin meeting skin, your hips against his. he buries his face into your neck, panting at your ear until he uses his hand to wrench your face towards his.

“i love you,” he groans, forcing your eyes to meet his. “i love you forever and will do so. so you can’t break my heart,” and he’s desperately thrusting again, “and you can’t leave me. please.”

at his confession, you break, back arching as you also squeal out a iloveyou while gasping loudly, hips rolling to rise against his as he fucks you through your orgasm. quickly, his thrusts veer into overstimulation and you whine. “toru.” he takes one look at your state—face impossibly flushed, hands tied, and pussy absolutely engulfing his cock, and his orgasm hits him like a truck, making him gasp and bend and break as he goes to heaven and back with the aftershocks of your orgasm making your pussy clench around him so beautifully. his cum enters you in hot spurts, making you exhale sharply at the feeling as he comes down from his orgasm, collapsing next to you.

for a few minutes, heavy breathing fills the room, both of you catching your breaths. until satoru breaks the silence. “so, what’s it like to fuck a superhero?”

you take one look at him—all smug and propped up on his elbow—and spidey sense be damned as you try grab a pillow. key word is try because you’re then wrenched back with a reminder that you’re still bound. “satoru,” and you give him a sickly sweet smile, the one that he knows means he’s in trouble, “when are these going to dissolve?”

and satoru pretends to be deep in thought, but you can see him trying to inch off the bed slowly, as if to escape your wrath after his answer. “uhm…maybe five hours?”

if it weren’t for the damn spidey sense that he had, he wouldn’t have been able to escape the swing of your legs as you looked at him murderously. “satoru gojo you will unhand me from these webs this instant—-“

“i don’t know,” he shrugs, shit eating grin in his face. “you look kinda sexy in bed like this. mad at me.” but when your eyes flash with anger, he hiccups nervously, telltale of the fact he won’t mess with you.

“i hate you,” you groan out, pouting like a petulant child while you glare at the ceiling.

 satoru comes close to you to bend at his waist and give you a forehead kiss. “no, you don’t.” 

you give him a pointed glare, telling him not to be testy. “clean me up. now.”

at your expression, his eyes widen in fear and he salutes. “anything for you, ma’am.”

at his retreating form, you giggle and sigh to yourself. you never would’ve known that spider-man would be the one fetching a clean up rag for you after fucking the shit out of you, but you wouldn’t trade it for the world.

when satoru comes back, he cleans you up, tenderly, as if he is afraid that you will break. you’re a little drowsy when he returns to you, but he doesn’t dare try to wake you up when he hears little breaths from your nose indicating you’ve fallen asleep. after he finishes his job, he admires your features.

satoru lingers for a moment, his gaze softening as he watches the gentle rise and fall of your chest. the weight of his responsibilities presses on him, as it always does, but tonight, it feels heavier—like a tether pulling him between the life he’s chosen and the life he craves.

you, so peaceful in sleep, represent something fragile, something precious. and that terrifies him. because what if he fails? what if the cost of being spider-man is losing the one thing that feels real?

still, he knows he can’t walk away—not from this city, not from you. with a deep breath, he leans down and presses a featherlight kiss to your forehead, a silent promise lingering in his chest.

“i’ll keep you safe,” he murmurs, barely audible. “no matter what.”

instead of leaving, satoru settles down beside you, careful not to disturb your rest. the city can wait, just for a little while. for now, he wraps an arm around you, grounding himself in the warmth of your presence. as your breathing evens out against him, he lets his own eyes drift shut, the weight of his responsibilities momentarily lifting. today, he chooses to stay.

kinktober masterlist | general masterlist

a/n ok if you're ever curious what being fucked in the ass with a wooden dildo no lube is like, just try to write this fic or any longfic. it's 4am, this a/n is short and unintelligble just like most of this fic but it's been a journey, im very sentimental because of this fic and i hope you guys like it. ok im going to pass out so pls ignore all typos xoxo but please flood my inbox im excited to see yalls reactions when i wake up

plspls pls comment and reblog!!!

TAGLIST

@sugoroo @ryutotsukai0824 @sharkubi @lisvanrouge @mxlktae

@samisfunky @achbbys000 @xd3pr3ss3dx @jottositto @cheescakebroom

@r0ckst4rjk @callmeagardengnome @rottmntrulesall @blankwashed @sindulgent666

@honeynanamin @obsessgurlll @starrnai @herefor-tojis-tits @ramonathinks

@creamflix

slytherin!gojo, and his pureblood mania. something imposed on by his parents ever since he could walk, and it was only more than obvious coming from such an old house like theirs.

so imagine him and muggleborn you, the first muggleborn to be sorted into slytherin for over three centuries. you don't know why, and you questioned it just as much as everybody else, but there was no use.

of course you became a pariah, and of course most of the teasing and comments came from gojo and his friends. they made it their mission throughout the years to remind you of just how different you were compared to them.

and sure, maybe it helped ease the thoughts that gojo tried to hide deep in the back of his mind that you were maybe a little cute, pretty even. and that whenever he heard you laugh, especially at a joke from someone else, his chest tightened. but he pushed those down, far far away.

over the years you grew thick enough skin, but even you couldn't help the way some of their comments stabbed themselves into your heart, made your face crumble momentarily. and gojo saw, and even though he acted like this is what he wanted, it was far from it.

so when he say you on the common rooms couch one night, your potions homework laid out in front your you as you slept soundly, curled up into a little ball, his initial reaction wasn't to spill ink all over the parchment (which he guessed one of the other boys might have done, and he hated that he could see them doing it), but to pull a blanket over your frame, watch as you cuddled into it. your face was lit up by the fireplace near you, your features just as beautiful as always.

his expression softened, and before he could stop himself his hand had gone up to your face, his thumb atoms away from your cheek, your skin soft beneath him. and before he could do anything else, he snatched it away, the ring of his noble house burning into his flesh.

but it was no use, he knew what was happening, and despite years of trying to lie to himself, the great gojo satoru, the prince of slytherin, was hopelessly in love with you.

Fandom Bar

there needs to be a bar that plays nothing but theme songs and other in show songs over the speakers n it just a place to go meet people with ur fandom interests thats just got the we acept anyone status. Like a club but not

While doing laundry, I drew this in the laundry room! Some people say I have too much time but I actually had a project to work on and I was procrastinating…

The biggest saitama is labeled with “saitama virus”. :D