#Computer Science (Field Of Study)

[anonymousdormhacks]

Whats the opposite of gothic? I'm in love with comp sci anti-gothic where it's just people being surprisingly polite and nice and funny through computers. A program's first lines are always "Hello world!". SMTP protocols apparently say "hello, pleased to meet you" to each other to establish a connection with a handshake. Python has a different version called Andaconda, which has a smaller version called miniconda. C++ is just C continuously improving on itself, because the ++ operator means to add one onto a previous value, and C# is two ++ stacked on top of each other. Lawmakers have to talk about the ethics of saving "cookies" to computers because one guy liked fortune cookies and decided to call them that. The internet itself wasn't created with security in mind because it was just meant to be a way for a group of people who trusted each other using it to send each other information, and so on, and so forth

[er-cryptid]

alright nerds, favorite biology (or biology-adjacent) field

had to make this new poll so there's more options

[rivaiin]

will be officially unemployed in like 2 weeks 👍

[quaranmine]

Small thing but thanks for like. Vaguely mentioning your field in passing cuz it gave me the spesific branch of biology that I wanna pursue, ecology! Aka I now have a more spesific target other than "idk, bio."

I think. At least. If I'm wrong then thanks for mentioning ecology's existence in passing at least lol

oh this is such a wild ask to receive since I'm somehow part of this revelation. I'm glad you could figure that out! I hope you have a good time studying it if you decide to pursue that field. I'm actually not an ecologist, but I have taken ecology in college. My bachelor's is in Environmental Science, which is a pretty broad field involving many forms of physical and life sciences. My job has labeled me both "Physical Scientist" and "Life Scientist" at different times, but I'm not doing in lab work, field work, or experiements so some people might argue against the scientist label.

In general, my education and career lean much more heavily into less alluring and less glamorous subjects like pollution, toxic chemicals, energy, landfills, remediation of hazardous waste sites, etc. I do a lot of outreach in my job, typically things like: creating outreach strategies, creating outreach materials, ordering materials, speaking with city and state government employees, speaking with community nonprofits, actively making professional relationships for my organization, organizing symposiums and classes, attending events with educaiton materials, presenting educational material, answering questions from the public. The subject of my job is mostly things about lead poisoning, children's health, public health, environmental regulations, and recycling but I have also spoken about pesticides, brownfields, groundwater pollution, etc.

Much of what I learned in school wasn't, like, pretty nature or wildlife or plants--although that's what everybody thinks I studied. It was about toxic chemicals exposure. Pollution sampling and monitoring. Wastewater treatment and drinking water quality. Remediation techniques like pumping sites, filters, bioremediation, etc. Groundwater hydrology and how pollution moves in aquifers. Environmental law, legal exposure theshholds, how to write risk assessments and quantify risk, etc.

However, there is a very strong overlapping link between ecology as a field and my field--there's a reason I also studied ecology as part of my degree, as well as biology! An ecologist might "classically" study things like how ecosystems work, food chains, wildlife populations, habitats, etc. The intersection with my field comes in with questions like: How does this chemcial spill affect the fish population? What is the impact that this proposed construction project might have on the local ecosystem and is that reason to block the project? How does pesticide runoff from agriculture affect non-target plants and animals?

Anyway, I love ecology. It's one of my favorite branches of science. I would have studied it or gone into it fully but the allure of preventing toxic chemical exposures/cleaning them up was too great xD

[stemgirlchic]

why neuroscience is cool

space & the brain are like the two final frontiers

we know just enough to know we know nothing

there are radically new theories all. the. time. and even just in my research assistant work i've been able to meet with, talk to, and work with the people making them

it's such a philosophical science

potential to do a lot of good in fighting neurological diseases

things like BCI (brain computer interface) and OI (organoid intelligence) are soooooo new and anyone's game - motivation to study hard and be successful so i can take back my field from elon musk

machine learning is going to rapidly increase neuroscience progress i promise you. we get so caught up in AI stealing jobs but yes please steal my job of manually analyzing fMRI scans please i would much prefer to work on the science PLUS computational simulations will soon >>> animal testing to make all drug testing safer and more ethical !! we love ethical AI <3

collab with...everyone under the sun - psychologists, philosophers, ethicists, physicists, molecular biologists, chemists, drug development, machine learning, traditional computing, business, history, education, literally try to name a field we don't work with

it's the brain eeeeee

[pearlprincess02]

academia sign as 𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞 𝔞𝔢𝔰𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔱𝔦𝔠𝔰

academia (829)

𝔠𝔥𝔞𝔬𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞

aries / 1st house academia: aries in academia approaches learning with enthusiasm and a pioneering spirit. they thrive in competitive environments, enjoying subjects that allow them to take the lead, such as sports science, entrepreneurship, or anything requiring bold, innovative thinking. their learning style is hands-on and action-oriented, preferring to dive into projects rather than sit through lectures. quick to grasp new concepts, aries students excel in fast-paced, dynamic settings where they can showcase their initiative and drive. they are natural leaders in group work, often inspiring others with their energy and passion.

chaotic academia vibes: red bull, coffee, late-night study sessions, messy desk, sticky notes everywhere, highlighters galore, backpack overflowing, headphones tangled, running late, cramming, competitive studying, impulsive learning, last-minute cramming, energetic study sessions, motivational posters, pomodoro technique, study groups, mind maps, flash cards, music playlists

major & minor in college: history, english, psychology, theater, business, creative writing, philosophy, computer science, art history, sociology

𝔡𝔞𝔯𝔨 𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞

taurus / 2nd house academia: taurus in academia is methodical and steady, approaching learning with patience and determination. they excel in subjects that involve tangible results or a connection to nature, such as agriculture, culinary arts, or finance. taurus students prefer a structured learning environment, where they can take their time to absorb information deeply and thoroughly. they have a strong memory and excel in retaining facts, often mastering subjects through repetition and consistent effort. their learning style is practical and grounded, focusing on real-world applications and long-term value.

dark academia vibes: leather-bound notebooks, vintage fountain pen, cozy sweater, warm coffee, comfortable armchair, candles, classical music, antique bookshelves, quiet library, natural light, slow & steady approach, consistent studying, structured routine, mindful studying, note-taking, reading extensively, researching deeply, essay writing, critical thinking, patience & perseverance,

major & minor in college: literature, history, art history, philosophy, classical studies, music, latin, greek, anthropology, environmental studies,

scorpio / 8th house academia: scorpio in academia is intensely focused and driven, diving deep into subjects that fascinate them, especially those involving psychology, criminology, or anything that uncovers hidden truths. they are natural researchers, drawn to mysteries and complexities, excelling in environments that require investigative skills and critical thinking. scorpio students prefer to study in private, where they can immerse themselves fully without distractions. they have a talent for uncovering details that others might overlook, and their determination to master a subject is unmatched. passionate and resilient, scorpio learners often emerge as experts in their chosen fields.

dark academia vibes: black coffee, leather jacket, intricate jewelry, vintage records, haunted library, gothic architecture, mysterious aura, intense gaze, quiet solitude, deep thoughts, intense focus, deep research, analytical thinking, critical analysis, debating, persuasive writing, problem-solving, independent study, night owl, passionate learning,

major & minor in college: psychology, philosophy, criminal justice, history, political science, sociology, anthropology, mythology, astronomy, creative writing,

𝔱𝔥𝔢𝔞𝔱𝔯𝔢 𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞

gemini / 3rd house academia: gemini in academia is curious and versatile, thriving in environments where they can explore a wide range of subjects. they are natural communicators, excelling in fields like journalism, linguistics, or social sciences, where their quick wit and love for information can shine. gemini students prefer a dynamic, interactive learning environment, enjoying discussions, debates, and collaborative projects. their learning style is fast-paced and adaptable, allowing them to pick up new concepts with ease and shift focus between topics effortlessly. always eager to learn something new, gemini keeps their mind sharp by continuously seeking knowledge in various fields.

theatre academia vibes: script book, makeup bag, costumes, props, rehearsal space, stage lights, backstage passes, playbills, acting classes, impromptu performances, versatility, adaptability, improvisation, memorization, public speaking, character analysis, script analysis, ensemble work, storytelling, critical thinking

major & minor in college: theater, english, creative writing, communication studies, film studies, music, dance, history, psychology, sociology,

𝔠𝔬𝔷𝔶 𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞

cancer / 4th house academia: cancer in academia is intuitive and emotionally connected to their studies, often drawn to subjects that resonate with their personal experiences, such as history, literature, or psychology. they excel in environments that feel nurturing and supportive, preferring to learn in a space where they feel safe and comfortable. cancer students have a strong memory, especially for details that evoke an emotional response, and they often approach learning with empathy and care. their learning style is reflective and deep, focusing on understanding the emotional and human aspects of any subject. sensitive to the needs of others, cancer can also be a compassionate and supportive peer in group settings.

cozy academia vibes: knitting needles, teacup, soft blanket, candles, cozy armchair, bookshelf filled with sentimental books, family photos, journal, soft music, homemade snacks, emotional intelligence, empathy, nurturing oneself, creating a comfortable study space, mindful studying, journaling, connecting with others, supporting others, patience & perseverance, emotional regulation

major & minor in college: english, history, psychology, sociology, social work, counseling, child development, family studies, art history, creative writing

𝔯𝔬𝔶𝔞𝔩 𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞

leo / 5th house academia: leo in academia is confident and expressive, thriving in subjects where they can showcase their creativity and leadership, such as performing arts, literature, or leadership studies. they enjoy being at the center of discussions and excel in environments where their ideas and talents are recognized. leo students are passionate learners who bring enthusiasm to their studies, often inspiring others with their energy and charisma. their learning style is dynamic and interactive, preferring presentations and group projects where they can shine. with a natural flair for storytelling and self-expression, leo often excels in areas that allow them to be both creative and influential.

royal academia vibes: crown-shaped stationery, velvet robes, gold jewelry, vintage fountain pen, grand library, ornate furniture, elegant calligraphy, classical music, high-quality textbooks, personalized study supplies, confidence, leadership, public speaking, motivation, goal setting, networking, presentation skills, time management, creativity, passion

major & minor in college: history, political science, business, theater, art history, music, philosophy, classical studies, public relations, creative writing

𝔟𝔬𝔱𝔞𝔫𝔦𝔠𝔞𝔩 𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞

virgo / 6th house academia: virgo in academia is analytical and detail-oriented, excelling in subjects that require precision and critical thinking, such as mathematics, science, or technical writing. they have a strong work ethic and prefer structured learning environments where they can methodically work through complex problems. virgo students are diligent researchers, often going above and beyond to ensure they fully understand a topic, and they have a knack for organizing information logically. their learning style is meticulous and focused, thriving on clear instructions and practical applications. with a keen eye for detail, virgo often excels in areas that demand accuracy and thoroughness.

botanical academia vibes: herbarium, plant journal, botanical prints, terrarium, gardening tools, natural light, plant-based stationery, herbal tea, nature-inspired décor, organized study space, organization, planning, time management, detail-oriented approach, note-taking, researching, problem-solving, critical thinking, patience, perseverance

major & minor in college: biology, environmental science, botany, horticulture, chemistry, agriculture, nutrition, health sciences, art history, creative writing

𝔯𝔬𝔪𝔞𝔫𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞

libra / 7th house academia: libra in academia is balanced and diplomatic, drawn to subjects that involve relationships, aesthetics, and justice, such as law, art, or social sciences. they excel in collaborative learning environments, enjoying discussions and group projects where they can exchange ideas and mediate differing opinions. libra students have a natural talent for seeing multiple perspectives, which makes them excellent at analyzing complex issues and finding harmonious solutions. their learning style is interactive and social, thriving in settings that allow for cooperation and mutual respect. with a strong sense of fairness and a love for beauty, libra often excels in areas that combine intellectual rigor with creativity.

romantic academia vibes: love letters, poetry collection, vintage jewelry, soft/pastel colors, romantic novels, flower arrangements, classical music, art galleries, beautiful stationery, cozy cafes, collaboration, harmony, diplomacy, balance, aesthetic appreciation, empathy, persuasion, critical thinking, creativity, open-mindedness

major & minor in college: english, history, art history, philosophy, psychology, sociology, communication studies, music, creative writing, design

𝔞𝔡𝔳𝔢𝔫𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔬𝔲𝔰 𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞

sagittarius / 9th house academia: sagittarius in academia is adventurous and curious, drawn to subjects that expand their horizons, such as philosophy, travel, or global studies. they thrive in environments that offer freedom and exploration, preferring to learn through experience, travel, and broad, open-ended discussions. sagittarius students have a natural enthusiasm for big ideas and are often inspired by the pursuit of knowledge that challenges conventional thinking. their learning style is spontaneous and wide-ranging, excelling in areas where they can explore different cultures, beliefs, and philosophies. with an innate love for wisdom and truth, sagittarius often excels in fields that encourage lifelong learning and intellectual growth.

adventurous academia vibes: travel journal, global map, adventure novels, passport, backpack, camping gear, telescope, world atlas, foreign language textbooks, wanderlust-themed stationery, curiosity, open-mindedness, exploration, adaptability, risk-taking, global perspective, intercultural communication, problem-solving, independent study, passion for learning

major & minor in college: history, geography, anthropology, philosophy, foreign languages, international studies, environmental science, economics, creative writing, journalism

𝔴𝔦𝔫𝔱𝔢𝔯 𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞

capricorn / 10th house academia: capricorn in academia is disciplined and strategic, favoring subjects that offer practical applications and long-term value, such as business, engineering, or finance. they excel in structured, goal-oriented environments where they can set clear objectives and work methodically towards achieving them. capricorn students have a strong work ethic and are adept at managing their time efficiently, often thriving on detailed planning and rigorous analysis. their learning style is focused and persistent, with a preference for mastering foundational concepts before advancing. with a keen sense of responsibility and determination, capricorn often excels in areas that require patience and sustained effort.

winter academia vibes: thick coat, scarf, warm coffee, cozy sweater, planner, bookshelf filled with textbooks, quiet study space, pen & paper, minimalist décor, structured routine, discipline, time management, goal setting, planning, persistence, problem-solving, critical thinking, researching, note-taking, long-term planning

major & minor in college: business, economics, law, political science, accounting, engineering, computer science, mathematics, history, philosophy

𝔣𝔲𝔱𝔲𝔯𝔦𝔰𝔱𝔦𝔠 𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞

aquarius / 11th house academia: aquarius in academia is innovative and independent, gravitating towards subjects that involve technology, future trends, or social change, such as engineering, environmental science, or sociology. they thrive in learning environments that encourage original thinking and unconventional approaches, often preferring to explore new ideas and challenge established norms. aquarius students are skilled at grasping complex, abstract concepts and enjoy engaging in collaborative projects that push boundaries and promote collective progress. their learning style is progressive and exploratory, with a strong inclination towards experimenting with novel methods and solutions. with a keen interest in improving the world, aquarius often excels in fields that foster creativity and forward-thinking.

futuristic academia vibes: smartwatch, laptop, tech gadgets, futuristic eyewear, minimalist design, neon lights, sci-fi novels, futuristic architecture, virtual reality headset, sustainable products, innovation, problem-solving, critical thinking, future-oriented thinking, collaboration, interdisciplinary learning, ethical considerations, lifelong learning, adaptability, social consciousness

major & minor in college: computer science, engineering, physics, astronomy, artificial intelligence, environmental science, sociology, political science, psychology, philosophy

𝔬𝔠𝔢𝔞𝔫 𝔞𝔠𝔞𝔡𝔢𝔪𝔦𝔞

pisces / 12th house academia: pisces in academia is imaginative and intuitive, drawn to subjects that explore the arts, spirituality, or the human psyche, such as creative writing, music, or psychology. they excel in environments that allow for introspection and creative expression, often thriving in less structured settings that encourage personal interpretation and emotional depth. pisces students have a unique ability to grasp abstract concepts and connect disparate ideas, making them skilled at synthesizing information in innovative ways. their learning style is fluid and adaptable, with a preference for exploring topics through personal experiences and intuitive insights. with a deep sense of empathy and creativity, pisces often excels in fields that involve understanding and expressing the complexities of the human experience.

ocean academia vibes: seashells, aquarium, ocean-themed stationery, beach towel, nautical decor, marine biology books, beach reads, ocean-inspired jewelry, dreamcatcher, calming music, intuition, empathy, creativity, imagination, meditation, mindfulness, visualization, dream journaling, connection with nature, emotional intelligence

major & minor in college: marine biology, oceanography, environmental science, psychology, art history, creative writing, music, philosophy, sociology, religious studies,

all observations belong to @pearlprincess02

[charseraph]

Noosciocircus agent backgrounds, former jobs at C&A, assigned roles, and current internal status.

Kinger

Former professor — Studied child psychology and computer science, moved into neobotanics via germination theory and seedlet development.

Seedlet trainer — Socialized and educated newly germinated seedlets to suit their future assignments. I.e. worked alongside a small team to serve as seedlets’ social parents, K-12 instructors, and upper-education mentors in rapid succession (about a year).

Intermediary — Inserted to assist cooperation and understanding of Caine.

Partially mentally mulekicked — Lives in state of forgetfulness after abstraction of spouse, is prone to reliving past from prior to event.

Ragatha

Former EMT — Worked in a rural community.

Semiohazard medic — Underwent training to treat and assess mulekick victims and to administer care in the presence of semiohazards.

Nootic health supervisor— Inserted to provide nootic endurance training, treat psychological mulekick, and maintain morale.

Obsessive-compulsive — Receives new agents and struggles to maintain morale among team and herself due to low trust in her honesty.

Jax

Former programmer — Gained experience when acquired out of university by a large software company.

Scioner — Developed virtual interfaces for seedlets to operate machinery with.

Circus surveyor — Inserted to assess and map nature of circus simulation, potentially finding avenues of escape.

Anomic — Detached from morals and social stake. Uncooperative and gleefully combative.

Gangle

Former navy sailor — Performed clerical work as a yeoman, served in one of the first semiotically-armed submarines.

Personnel manager — Recordkept C&A researcher employments and managed mess hall.

Task coordinator — Inserted to organize team effort towards escape.

Reclused — Abandoned task and lives in quiet, depressive state.

Zooble

No formal background — Onboarded out of secondary school for certification by C&A as part of a youth outreach initiative.

Mule trainer — Physically handled mules, living semiohazard conveyors for tactical use.

Semiohazard specialist — Inserted to identify, evaluate, and attempt to disarm semiotic tripwires.

Debilitated and self-isolating — Suffers chronic vertigo from randomly pulled avatar. Struggles to participate in adventures at risk of episode.

Pomni

Former accountant — Worked for a chemical research firm before completing her accreditation to become a biochemist.

Collochemist — Performed mesh checkups and oversaw industrial hormone synthesis.

Field researcher — Inserted to collect data from fellows and organize reports for indeterminate recovery. Versed in scientific conduct.

In shock — Currently acclimating to new condition. Fresh and overwhelming preoccupation with escape.

Caine

Neglected — Due to project deadline tightening, Caine’s socialization was expedited in favor of lessons pertinent to his practical purpose. Emerged a well-meaning but awkward and insecure individual unprepared for noosciocircus entrapment.

Prototype — Germinated as an experimental mustard, or semiotic filter seedlet, capable of subconsciously assembling semiohazards and detonating them in controlled conditions.

Nooscioarchitect — Constructs spaces and nonsophont AI for the agents to occupy and interact with using his asset library and computation power. Organizes adventures to mentally stimulate the agents, unknowingly lacing them with hazards.

Helpless — After semiohazard overexposure, an agent’s attachment to their avatar dissolves and their blackroom exposes, a process called abstraction. These open holes in the noosciocircus simulation spill potentially hazardous memories and emotion from the abstracted agent’s mind. Caine stores them in the cellar, a stimulus-free and infoproofed zone that calms the abstracted and nullifies emitted hazards. He genuinely cares about the inserted, but after only being able to do damage control for a continually deteriorating situation, the weight of his failure is beginning to weigh on him in a way he did not get to learn how to express.

[cosmicpuzzle]

Which Education🎓📚 is right for you?

Mercury rules your interest and consequently which type of course you would select.

Now you have to see how Mercury is placed. For example if Mercury is conjunct Moon it would have same effect as Mercury in Cancer or Moon opposite Mercury.

Mercury -Sun: It is called Budh Aditya yoga. These people can shine in political science, geology, sociology, medicine and they can be good leaders too. They may prepare for competitive exams.

Mercury-Moon: Some changes or confusion in choice of course. Can study more than one subject but both vastly different from each other. Chemical, hotel management, nutrition, chef, psychology, tarot and intuitive studies.

Mercury-Mars: Some obstacles in education, breaks and interruptions (dropping classes), engineering (especially related to machines, drawings, plans, civil, electronics), medicine (especially related to surgery), fire and safety engineering,

Mercury-Venus: Sales, marketing, HR, interior designing, makeup courses, all type of fine arts, vocational courses, acting courses.

Mercury-Saturn: Engineering (like construction , petroleum, mining core subjects), structural engineering, drafting, administrative studies.

Mercury-Jupiter: Finance, CPA, CMA, accounting, teaching, law field, journalism, VJ, pilots, aeronautical.

Mercury- Rahu: Chemical, nuclear subjects, cinematography, software courses, digital marketing, share markets, computer hardware, import export, AI, Machine Learning courses.

Mercury-Ketu: Computer coding, electrical engineering, bio technology, astrology, virology, research oriented fields.

For Readings DM

[ewanmitchellcrumbs]

Just for the Taste

Pairing: Michael Gavey (Saltburn) x f!reader Warnings: Masturbation, smut. Word count: ~3k

Summary: Growing increasingly frustrated with the pace things are going at between her and Michael, his girlfriend takes matters into her own hands, quite literally.

Author's note: Day nine of Smuffmas - stockings and sex toys. No tag list. Follow @fics-by-ewanmitchellcrumbs and turn on post notifications.

She had met Michael in her first month at Oxford university. It was a Saturday night and, unlike the vast majority of people living in her college, she had opted to stay in instead of hitting the town to spend her student loan in one of the many pubs. She had a tutorial on Monday and was determined to impress the computer scientist who would be leading it. Her entire weekend revolved around getting ahead with the required reading in order to have a full understanding of the previous week’s lecture topics. She wanted to be able to talk about them at length, and share her ideas in a comprehensive manner.

Her stomach had dropped as she had reached into her backpack, feeling that her Discrete Mathematics textbook was missing. She cursed under her breath, realising she had left it on the table in the Bodleian Old Library. It closed at 4pm on Saturdays, so she’d have to wait until it opened tomorrow to go and fetch it back.

A lack of a textbook wasn’t enough to deter her though. On average, of students that applied to the Computer Science course at Oxford, only 17% were interviewed, and only 5% were successful. She was acutely aware of how fortunate she was, but also how hard she’d worked to get here, and wasn’t about to let that lapse.

A thorough Google search yielded nothing useful, all of the PDFs she managed to unearth were outdated editions and would have been of no use to her. She decided to go door knocking – the time will pass anyway, she figured, and there might be someone in their room that had a copy of the textbook that she could borrow. A long shot, but it was either that or lose an evening of studying, and she wasn’t prepared to do that.

Unfortunately for her, the Computer Science course wasn’t an especially sociable one – the difficulty of the subject matter and competitive nature of the field it eventually lead into wasn’t a breeding ground for fast friendships, and with only 44 people on the course who were all more than happy to keep to themselves, she had no idea where any of them were actually staying. There had to be at least one in her college though.

The first three doors she knocked on yielded no response, the fourth was answered by a flustered, barely dressed girl, who stared at her in wide eyed bewilderment as a male voice from within the room called out “tell them to go away!”

Her skin ablaze with embarrassment, she descended the stairs and was fully prepared to give up after receiving no response from another two doors, before the one in the far corner creaked open, causing her to turn to face the noise. A bespectacled pair of blue eyes peered out at her, narrowed in suspicion.

“Do you have any idea what time it is?”

She glanced at her watch – just after 9.30pm. “Yeah, it’s not late…”

“What are you doing?” he asked her. His voice was quiet, but laced with derision. “Are you pissed?”

She shook her head, slowly approaching his door as she clasped her hands in front of her. His stare was piercing and intense, yet his posture was so rigid she got the sense that he’d likely slam the door on her if she moved too quickly.

“I haven’t been drinking,” she said apologetically, “just need to borrow a textbook. You’re not on my course so I doubt you could help me anyway.”

“What are you reading?” he asked, his posture softening slightly, though he didn’t open the door any wider.

“Computer Science.”

“Hmm. I’m reading Maths, so–”

Her eyes lit up, a surge of hope making her heart soar. “I need a copy of Discrete Mathematics,” she said excitedly, “I don’t suppose you have one?”

“Not a physical copy…”

She visibly deflated, her heart sinking in disappointment as her shoulders sagged. “Nevermind then. Thanks anyway.”

“I’ve got a PDF,” he said, opening the door wider as she turned to leave.

She stopped in her tracks, her gaze drifting to where his fingers clutched the USB drive that was clasped to the belt loop of his tan coloured cargo trousers with a carabiner clip. “From what year?” she asked quietly, as her eyes lifted back up to his.

“2005.”

She grinned. That was exactly the year she needed. “You’re an absolute lifesaver,” she told him, her voice breathy with relief.

“I think the file might be too big for me to send over email though,” he admitted.

“Could you not just lend me the flash drive? I can give it straight back tomorrow morning.”

He pursed his lips, eyeing her from head to toe. “How do I know you will? This is a one gigabyte USB drive, it’s valuable. You might steal it.”

She grinned, until she realised he was being serious. “I live in the room directly above yours,” she told him, gesturing upwards towards the ceiling, “so you’ll know where to find me.” She gave him her name, as she fiddled with the clasp of her watch, removing it from her wrist and holding it out to him. “Here, insurance, so you know I’m not trying to steal from you.”

The faintest hint of a smile ghosted across his lips as his eyes crinkled in amusement. “Alright, fine,” he relented, taking her watch from her and slipping it into his pocket. He unclipped the USB drive and handed it to her. “I’m Michael, by the way.”

“Thanks, Michael,” she said with a coy smile, “I’ll see you tomorrow.”

She made her way back upstairs to her room and spent the rest of the night studying then, true to her word, on her way to the library the following morning, she knocked on Michael’s door to give him back his USB drive.

“I’m glad to see you’re a woman of your word,” Michael said playfully, as she clipped the drive back onto his carabiner, his cheeks flushing at her close proximity.

She held out her wrist and, silently, he clasped her watch back around it. Her skin tingled as his fingers brushed across it, their eyes meeting as their breaths simultaneously caught in their throats.

From that moment on, her and Michael were inseparable. The attraction was instantaneous, deepened by a shared love of mathematics and a refusal to toe the line when it came to the unspoken social hierarchy in place at the university.

Michael was a virgin, and so they took things slowly. She had had a long term boyfriend before going away to university, so she had had sex, but wasn’t overwhelmingly experienced. The split between her and her ex had been amicable; both going away to study in entirely different cities, they had wanted to give each other the opportunity to focus on their respective courses, rather than the pressures of maintaining a long distance relationship.

Things often turned hot and heavy between her and Michael. As their kisses grew feverish, his hips grinding of their own accord against hers, she could feel he was hard, knew that he wanted her, but was often left disappointed when he would hurry to the bathroom for a cold shower before anything truly interesting could happen between them. She cared for him, so she was happy to wait, though the sexual frustration was beginning to take its toll on her.

She had never been more grateful for the bullet vibrator she had brought with her to university, though it was costing her a small fortune in batteries – it had never had so much use before.

Three months into their relationship, she was beginning to get desperate. They had arranged to watch a film in Michael’s room that evening, so she decided to make it more than obvious that she was eager to take things a step further.

She pulled on lace topped hold up stockings and a black, lacy lingerie set, covering it with the red woolen jumper that Michael had left in her room the last time he was there. It fell to her mid thigh, so it wasn't immediately obvious that she had no other clothing on underneath.

They had fallen into the comfortable habit of leaving their doors unlocked when they were expecting each other to come over, so that they wouldn’t have to knock. She let herself straight into his room, finding Michael hunched over at his desk, fiddling with a Blockbuster DVD case to open it, so he could insert the disc into the CD drive of his laptop.

“What we watching then?” she asked, letting her rucksack drop from her shoulder onto the floor as she perched on the edge of his bed.

“Revenge of the Sith,” he answered, turning in his seat to look at her, “it’s a Star Wars film. I thought, erm…”

He trailed off, his lips parting slightly as he pushed his glasses up his nose. She followed his line of sight, seeing that the hem of his jumper had ridden up as she’d sat on the bed, revealing the lacy tops of her stockings. She smiled, knowing her outfit was having the desired effect, before looking back at him.

“You thought what?” she asked innocently, settling back properly on the bed as she moved a pillow behind her to lean against. She didn’t bother to pull the jumper back down, wanting to leave no room for doubt as to what her intentions were.

Michael swallowed thickly, before shaking his head. “Doesn’t matter, let’s just watch the film.”

As the film played, she could hardly concentrate, the closeness of Michael next to her, the heat of his body so close to hers was a distraction. Their fingers were entwined upon the sheets between them, a gesture of closeness and intimacy, but it wasn’t enough. She needed more.

Slowly, she moved his hand onto her thigh, leaving their fingers interwoven there for a few moments while she gauged his reaction. His eyes flitted to hers and he offered her a tight smile before he returned his attention back to his laptop screen. He made no attempt to move his hand away, so she left it there.

Gradually, she disentangled her fingers from his, pulling her hand away until only his remained on top of her thigh. His thumb absentmindedly began to stroke at the lace of her stocking, tracing the swirling pattern of the material as he continued to watch the film.

She had no idea what was occurring on the screen; the light sabers, the red and black face of Darth Maul, it was all just a blur of colour to her as her pulse raced beneath Michael’s touch. His hand moved higher, fingertips brushing against the soft skin of her inner thigh. It took all of her restraint not to just grab his hand and place it where she needed him most, knowing that she shouldn’t rush him. At a maddeningly slow pace his fingers inched their way up, her core throbbing with desire and the crotch of her knickers growing damp with arousal the closer he got. As his fingertips reached the hem of her underwear, so close to pushing underneath, the credits of the film began to roll and Michael moved his hand away, climbing off of the bed towards the desk where the laptop sat.

She wanted to scream in frustration, every nerve ending in her body felt ablaze, desperate to feel something, anything and he was painfully oblivious to all of it.

Not in the mood to answer his questions about what she had thought about what they had just watched – she hadn’t been paying attention anyway – she stood up, tugging the jumper down and slipping the shoes back on.

“Night then,” she called over her shoulder, not giving him a chance to respond as she hurried out of his room and back up the stairs towards her own.

She knew she was being rude and incredibly unfair to Michael, and that they would likely have to discuss at some point how his apprehension towards physical intimacy was affecting her, but right now she was a pent up mess of hormones and arousal and she needed release.

Slamming the door closed the moment she stepped into her room, she flopped down onto the bed, roughly tugging her underwear down her legs and tossing it to one side. She reached into the bedside table drawer, feeling around until her fingers wrapped around the familiar shape of her bullet vibrator.

Thank god, she thought, switching it on and bringing it between her legs, sighing in relief as she pressed it against her swollen clit and her eyes fluttered closed. Her breaths grew heavier as she moved the toy in tight circles to aid the gentle rumble against her sensitive bundle of nerves.

She froze as the door swung to, her eyes snapping open to see Michael standing there.

“Hey, you left your bag, so I– oh, shit, sorry!”

“Wait!” she pleaded, turning the toy off and chucking it down onto the bed as she moved into a sitting position. “Don’t go.”

He let her rucksack drop to the floor beside his feet, closing the door behind him and resting his back against it. His eyes were glued to the floor, his cheeks ablaze as he struggled to find the words. “Were you…were you…um…”

“Yeah, yeah, I was,” she admitted shamefully, feeling her skin grow warm with humiliation.

“Is that why you left so quickly? Because you wanted to…”

He looked so dejected, so sad, so hurt, it made her want to burst into tears. She’d have done anything to take away the furrow of his brow, the disappointed look in his eyes. “Yes,” she whispered, hating herself for the answer.

“Do you not want to with me then?” he asked, his voice so soft she had to strain to hear it.

“Of course I do,” she insisted, “that’s why I was doing…what I was doing.”

“I don’t understand,” he admitted, finally looking up to meet her eye, his back still pressed against the door as she sat on the bed.

She sighed, raking a hand through her hair, unable to keep the frustration from her voice as she tried to explain. “I want you, Michael, but I appreciate that you’re a virgin and I don’t want to push you before you’re ready. I have needs though, I’m sorry…”

“You shouldn’t have to apologise for that,” he reassured her, pushing away from the door and slowly approaching the bed, “I am ready, I just never realised you wanted to, you never said.”

“I’ve been dropping hints left and right, did you not see what I was wearing tonight?”

“Yeah, my jumper,” he answered, rubbing the back of his neck, “just assumed you hadn’t done any washing for a while.”

She groaned, fighting the urge to laugh – for an intelligent guy, he could be so incredibly dense. “I want to fuck you! Is that clear enough?”

Michael nodded, his gaze falling upon the toy that lay discarded beside her. “I don’t know what I’m doing though. I’ve always just been able to do maths in my head, never needed a calculator before, but I know they help people. Maybe that–” he pointed towards the vibrator, “could be my calculator, could help me.”

“What do you mean?”

“Show me how to fuck you.”

The bluntness took her breath away, but the intensity of his stare left no room for argument. “Alright,” she nodded, picking the toy up once more.

Michael stepped clumsily out of his shoes, then moved to the foot of the bed, kneeling upon it. “Go on then, show me.”

She could feel nervous excitement fluttering in her belly as she laid back, allowing her legs to fall open, giving him an unobstructed view of her most intimate area, before she pressed the bullet back against herself and switched it on.

Michael inhaled sharply, his hands coming to rest upon the knees of her bent legs, holding them open as he watched her intently. “What does it feel like?”

“It…it feels good,” she whispered breathlessly, slowly circling the toy against her bud, “there’s pressure, but it feels nice.” 

She gazed up at him as she panted and moaned softly, seeing the way his pupils dilated subtly. His hands moved to his belt, tugging it open, causing her to bite her lip, a mixture of arousal, curiosity and disbelief all fought for dominance in her pleasure-addled mind as she watched him unzip his trousers and free his hardened length. It was long, thick and slightly curved, the tip weeping with arousal.

“Can I?” he asked, gently grasping her wrist to coax her hand away from herself. 

She nodded, allowing him to move her arm to her side, the toy still buzzing in her hand. She gasped as he replaced the toy with the flushed head of his cock, rubbing it in circular motions, allowing it to notch against her clitoral hood.

“Like this?” he asked, his voice strained, and she simply nodded, desperately fighting the urge to buck her hips from the exquisite pressure he was applying.

“Shouldn’t…shouldn’t your first time be special?” she uttered, voice thick with desire.

“We’re not fucking, we’re learning,” he said softly, his gaze never moving from between her thighs as he continued to stroke himself through her slick folds, “and besides, it being with you automatically makes it special.”

Her heart fluttered at his words, they would have been romantic were it not for the lewdness of what they were doing.

“Now,” he said, pulling back slightly and grabbing her wrist again, “show me what else you do with this toy.”

Read on AO3

More Michael fics

[chase-solidago]

NOW HIRING - Special Projects Assistant

Chicago Residency at time of job start required

Join the Rethinking Lawns Research Team (http://rethinkinglawns.com) and study the impacts of lawns and their potential alternatives in Chicago! Lead field experiments, manage experimental sites, and collect and manage data. Ideal candidate will have experience in project coordination and ecological field work.

Full description under the cut!

The Chicago Park District is seeking an experienced candidate to join our Natural Areas team, a part of the Park District’s Department of Cultural and Natural Resources. The Special Projects Assistant will be a member of the Rethinking Lawns project, a multi-disciplinary team exploring the ecological and ecosystem services benefits of traditional lawns, natural areas, and native, short-statured lawn replacement plantings. More information about the project can be found at rethinkinglawns.com. The ideal candidate will have experience in project coordination and ecological field work, preferably in a leadership capacity.

Key responsibilities include leading a team of seasonal research assistants in collecting data on plant cover, pollinator visitation, water infiltration, temperature, and soils at sites throughout Chicago and at the Chicago Botanic Garden. The Special Projects Assistant will participate in regular project coordination meetings with the research team, and oversee scheduling, coordination, communication, and data entry. They will also regularly interact with landscaping contractors, colleagues and the project team regarding installation and maintenance of plantings. Exceptional candidates will have some experience in data management, and analysis using R, and/or GIS. There are opportunities to present at local and national conferences. Local travel to field sites is required.

Desired Qualifications:

Bachelor's degree in Biology, Environmental Science, or a related field, or a combination of education and experience.

Knowledge of ecological principles and practices.

Ability to research information and prepare clear written or oral reports.

Ability to relate to field personnel and community groups, particularly in an urban setting.

Data entry, writing, computer skills.

Knowledge of contemporary research and communication practices. 

City of Chicago residency is required at time of job start.

This position is based out of North Park Village (5801 N. Pulaski Rd.) and includes frequent citywide travel.

[seat-safety-switch]

At the university where I work, there's all kinds of amazing research projects going on. As part of the public service requirement of my extensively-negotiated parole, I am forced to help with whoever needs it. I've rounded up test monkeys, convinced sobbing grad students not to abandon their field of study, and made coffee for a bunch of MBAs theorizing about how to create even bigger layoffs than their grandfathers could ever have dreamt of. And also there's some nerds with computers.

Robots, while not as cool as they once were, are still being developed every day. We've forgotten how to make all kinds of shit, but we can still follow the instruction manual to make the robots that remember how to make that shit. Which is good, because otherwise we wouldn't have any cars, or refrigerators, or the small island nation of New Zealand. Computer scientists are busy figuring out how to make those robots walk up and down stairs, which is a problem that has evaded them since the beginning of time.

You might not think it's particularly useful to be able to go up and down stairs. I certainly didn't, but it turns out that some important things are available on other floors of a building. The nerds were having a lot of trouble making the robot do it, until I pointed out that the building is equipped with an elevator. Much forehead-slapping ensued, and we went out and got completely sloshed at the campus bar, relieved to finally have solved one of the remaining hard problems of computer science. Unfortunately, in our rush to imbibe, we left the robot turned on. When we got back, it was gone.

What I'm trying to tell you is that if you live in a regular house, you're gonna want to sleep on the second floor. Or in the basement. Anywhere except for the ground floor. We don't think the robot can really harm anybody, that's an awful stereotype of runaway robots, but we do suspect it's running a bit low on charge and will do whatever it takes to suck up some of that sweet, sweet juice. So if you look out your window this morning, and see that someone has spontaneously assembled most of the macrostructure of New Zealand on your front lawn, call us right away, and also hide all of those cheap AliExpress chargers that look like USB-C but won't charge your laptop. Those'll just make it angry.

[thewritingrowlet]

The Freshman, ft. tripleS Yoon Seoyeon

tags: first time, male reader

length: 5k+ words

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

Today is August 12th, the first day of Freshers’ Week at your university. Professor Son, the head of Computer Science department, had asked you personally to be one of the seniors to lead a group of freshmen throughout the Week and continue to offer help and advice whenever they may need it, even after the orientation period has finished. She told you that she was very impressed that you were able to maintain a 3.7 GPA in the 2 years you’ve been studying while being active as a basketball player for the university’s team at the same time. You were hesitant to take her up on the request at first because you had wanted to take this holiday period to relax and gather yourself after such a stressful semester. However, you recalled the way your senior had helped you when you were a freshman yourself; how he motivated and set an example to you and your groupmates, so you put your holiday plans to the side, said yes, and become a group leader.

Your watch shows 5:30 am, you just finished the morning briefing with the other group leaders and the rest of the Freshers’ Week committee. In less than an hour, the freshmen will start gathering in the football field and you will start your duties as a group leader for these new faces. You are very nervous as you are not very sociable with new people, but you see this as an opportunity to help you be more comfortable being in the spotlight and present in public—the promised payment is too good to pass up as well.

You and the rest of the group leaders stand in a row while holding a sign with the group name and number written on it. You see the freshmen start lining up in front of their respective leaders, including yourself. Some look like they just woke up, others look excited to start their new life as a university student, as you were back then. Initially, no male or female freshman catches your attention with their looks, until the last freshman joins your group’s line. You quickly peek at the attendance list on your clipboard and find the name of this last person: Yoon Seoyeon, from Chungnam Girls’ High School in Daejeon— “that’s quite the distance”, you think. As you look up from the attendance list, you see her walking up to you. Just before she gets to you, you managed to pick up some details from her looks: big eyes, small lips, fluffy cheeks—she’s also wearing a bow tie in your favorite color, light blue.

Lock it in, she’s holding out her hand to shake yours. “Good morning, sunbaenim. My name is Yoon Seoyeon”, she says. You find yourself staring deep into her eyes for a second before replying and shaking her hand; you have never felt anything like this before—is this what they call love at first sight?

After that short introduction, you tried your best to shake off other thoughts that could distract you from doing your job on this opening day. Little did you know, today was going to be a start of something huge for you.

The day went by very quickly for you, as you and your group followed all the introductory programs prepared by the committee. You tried your best to be present for your group throughout the day, sharing your university experiences, offering them tips, and showing them your favorite spots for studying. Most of them seemed engaged and interested in what you’re saying, which you’re thankful for, because you found out that being in the center of attention like this is not easy for you. In the last 15 minutes before things are wrapped for them today, you express your gratitude for them and ask them to be more comfortable with you and not to call you “sunbaenim” ever again, resorting to “oppa” or “hyung”.

After every freshman left, everyone else started following suit and left to go to wherever they needed to be; their dorm rooms, their favorite coffee shops, whatever the case may be for them. You opted to walk back to your apartment, picking up food for dinner on the way, “pasta for dinner feels like a good idea”, you think to yourself.

As soon as you entered your apartment, you heard a buzz from your phone. The documentation team sent a Google Drive link full of pictures they had taken throughout the day, neatly put into folders for each group. You set your food on your desk and start scrolling through your group’s folder. After looking more closely, you notice that Seoyeon was always by your side in every picture, paying very close attention to what you were saying. So, you promise yourself you will try talking to her and find out more about her tomorrow. You feel your heart beating fast at the thought of getting close to her, and you think to yourself, “I don’t think I can sleep tonight”—that’s cap, though; you fell asleep at around 10pm, as usual.

A few hours later, the sound of your alarm wakes you up from your sleep. The sun hasn’t risen yet, but you need to get ready anyway so that you’re not late for the briefing.

You open your wardrobe after showering and decide to dress nicer today because you want to show Seoyeon a more proper style of yours, opting for a red shirt, and a matching combination of dark gray trousers and blazer. You hope no one asks you as to why you’re dressing as if you were going to a meeting with the board of directors. “I hope Seoyeon likes guys who dress well”, you mutter while looking at the mirror one last time before leaving.

At around 4:40 am, you arrive at campus and go to the same spot as yesterday to attend the briefing. The committee explains that we’re having more talks with the freshmen today to get close to them and see if they have concerns or other things they might want to talk about with their group leaders or fellow freshmen. You get excited about the prospect of getting closer with your group, specifically with Seoyeon. You can’t wait until you can talk to her, promising to yourself that you’ll show enthusiasm to whatever subject she might bring up.

Just like yesterday, you and the other group leaders go to the football field and wait until everyone arrives. Unlike yesterday, though, Seoyeon arrives first today. Your heart beats fast when you see her walking up to you with a smile on her face, “how cute”, you hear a group leader next to you say. You shoot him a quick glare which he misses, you don’t want other people to fall for her like you’re about to.

You take a good look at what she’s wearing today; light blue shirt and brown pants, “these colors suit her very well”, you say to yourself. “Good morning, oppa. How are we feeling today?”, she asks. “We? When did it become ‘we’?”, you think, getting ahead of yourself. “I’m feeling great, Seoyeon. I’m excited because I heard that we’re going to talk a lot and know each other better today”. You see Seoyeon blush a little and look away for a second before looking at you again. “Sure, oppa. I’ll tell you everything about myself and I hope you will too”, she says, and now it’s your turn to blush. You take a few seconds to muster up the courage to compliment her. “You’re looking great, Seoyeon, these colors look great on you”, you say to her, hoping that she won’t take it any other way than a compliment. “Thank you, oppa. I noticed that you were holding a blue clipboard yesterday and caught you glancing at my bow tie a few times yesterday, so I figured that you like blue, hence the shirt”. Your first thought is to apologize for staring but at the same time, you’re holding in a squeal of excitement because she has noticed your fondness of blue.

Soon, everyone starts gathering up at the football field; you see that some people from your group have gotten more comfortable with each other, some even have made friends with people from other groups. Seoyeon finds herself among some peers and seems to be comfortable with them, and you’re glad that you get to see how she’s able to present herself so gracefully and elegantly when surrounded by people. Deep down, you hope that one day you can wake up to her next to you with the same smile she has on her face right now. “We’ll see how today turns out”, you think.

You end up spending the whole day talking with your group about all kinds of things related to university life in general and being a student-athlete studying Computer Science. Seoyeon asked you a handful of questions, to which you replied with sincerity and enthusiasm. She was careful enough to not ask about personal details, keeping the curiosity to herself. You wanted to make sure that no doubt lingers in her mind in terms of studying Computer Science in this highly competitive environment. Others also asked for more specific tips for studying after being told yesterday that you’re one of the top students in your department and in the entire university as a student-athlete—you were never in it for the fame, but being recognized positively every now and then for what you’re doing feels good and fulfilling.

The day went by quickly for you, just like yesterday did. Day 2 made you realize that you really can’t stop talking once you start and you hope that you weren’t just spewing nonsense to everybody.

While the second day started similarly to the first, it will end differently. You see Seoyeon sitting at the bus stop, staying behind even after every freshman left and the evaluation finished. Feeling concerned, you walk up to her to see if there’s anything you can help her with. Hearing your footsteps, Seoyeon turns her head to see you, “Oh hi, oppa. I thought you had left already, why are you still here?”, she asks you. “Hi to you as well, sweet—I mean, Seoyeon. Well, you just stole my line, I was supposed to ask you why you’re still here. Is there anything I can help you with?”. You saw her eyes dilate a bit when you slipped, you curse yourself for nearly losing control of what you’re saying. “I-I wanted to wait for you so we can talk s-some more—if you don’t mind, that is”, looking down as she says the last bit. “Sure, let’s talk some more. Let’s go to that burger place, we can talk over some burgers and fries”, you tell her as you point to the burger spot across the street.

Seoyeon stands up from her seat and quietly holds your arm, and the both of you start walking across the street to get to the burger shop. When you two enter the establishment, you see Jeno, your favorite guy, working at the cashier. “Yo, what’s up, man? What are we in the mood for tonight?”, he says, friendly as ever, while glancing quickly at the girl next to you. “Jeno, it’s always nice seeing you here, man. Can I have a Double OG with no tomato and some nacho fries?”. You almost forgot that you weren’t alone, so you look to your side and ask the girl shyly holding your arm, “It’s on me tonight, Seoyeon. What would you like to have?”. She shyly replies, “u-uh, I don’t know, oppa. I’ve never been here before, but I would love to have a burger and some fries as well”, of course the freshman from far away is clueless, you dumbass. “Oh, right”, you bring a palm to your forehead, “well, can I have a Black Montana and some cheesy fries?”, you tell Jeno your extra order—Black Montana used to be your favorite thanks to the sauce they use for it, only changing because you wanted to try other things. “Of course, man, anything for my favorite customer”, Jeno says as he hands you two empty cups for the drink. You fill your cup with some cold water while Seoyeon opts for diet coke. After filling the cups, you look around for a table, finding one in the corner next to the windows—how romantic.

You pull a seat for her before sitting down yourself, replicating the gesture you’ve seen your dad do for your mom throughout your life. Seoyeon mutters a little thank you that sends a jolt to your heart, making it beat like you just ran a few laps around a basketball court. You sit on the other side after setting your backpack down on the floor. “So, what did you want to talk about?”, you ask to start the conversation. Seoyeon looks at you but looks down at the table soon after, so you just nod in understanding. You don’t want to make her feel uncomfortable, so you wait until the food comes before pushing again.

Luckily for you, the food comes a few minutes later. Two delicious looking burgers, some crunchy fries, and a couple of bottles of condiment. You see a beam of excitement on Seoyeon’s face as she looks at the tray the waiter has just set on your table. She immediately grabs some fries and shoves it in her mouth, making her cheeks round. Soon after, she starts unwrapping her burger and takes a bite, squealing cutely at the taste. You choose to not start eating just yet, paying close attention to how excited she is when it comes to food and feeling the warmth that’s radiating from her. After taking another bite of her burger, she looks at you and notices that you haven’t touched your food yet. “O-oppa, why aren’t you eating?”, she asks with a full mouth. “Oh, I was just admiring your excitement for food. You like it?”. “This is amazing, oppa. Thank you very much, I love y—uh, this burger”, she blushes and looks away from you while you choose to act like you didn’t catch the slip and start unwrapping your burger.

Not long after that exchange, you both finish your meals, feeling full and satisfied with it. You hope that this is good timing and ask her again, “what did you want to talk about, Seoyeon?”. Knowing that she has nowhere to hide now, she gathers her mind and says four words that shake your world, “I like you, oppa”. You drop your jaw in shock, unable to say anything back to her for a few seconds. “I’m sorry, Seoyeon, but can you say that again?”, you hope that she won’t deflect and repeats it. “I said I like you, oppa. D-do you f-feel the same, by any chance?”, she repeats, maintaining eye contact with you despite the crimson hue on her cheeks. You remain stunned for the next few seconds, until you see tears start forming in her eyes. “Seo-Seoyeon, ye-yes, I also like y-you”, you reply while breathing heavily, forgetting how to breath. Satisfied with your answer, Seoyeon immediately jumps to the empty seat next to you to hug you, tucking her head under your chin. You close your eyes and bask in the moment; you feel like a massive weight has finally been lifted off your chest. Soon, though, you start hearing little sobs coming from her. You pulled her out of the hug to look at her and soothe her, “hey, hey, sweetie, are you okay? Don’t cry, please. I’m here for you”. “I’m just so relieved, oppa. I was so scared that you would push me away—you would never push me away, right?”, she says, voice shaking from the emotions. Your heart sinks to the bottom of the Mariana Trench; there is absolutely no way on this green earth that you would push her away like that, and the fact that she’s letting her emotions show assures you that she’s being honest and sincere. Peck her on the forehead to soothe her, “it’s okay, sweetie, there’s nothing to fear. I’m here for you, always”.

After about a minute, she finally stops sobbing and her breathing returns to normal. She’s dropping another bomb, though. “Can we go to your place, oppa?”, she says softly as she pulls away from the hug. You quietly thank your parents for planting in you the habit of maintaining cleanliness, which means that your apartment is presentable for guests all the time. “We can, sweetie, but are you sure?”, you ask her with the last few drops of self-control, your patience running thin. “Please, oppa. There’s nothing I’m surer of right now”.

You ask her to let go so that you two can leave this place. She wraps an arm on yours, more confidently this time, as you walk to the cashier. “So how was it, guys? Delicious as always, right?”, Jeno asks the two of you. “Amazing, Jeno, always. We’re going, thank you so much”, you give him a fist bump before leaving the place. He gives you two thumbs up as you’re opening the door to leave.

Soon, you two find yourselves on the way to your apartment. “Sweetie, c-can I carry you? I-I’ve always wanted to try it”, you ask, surprising Seoyeon who did not see it coming at all. “Sure, oppa, just don’t drop me please”, with her consent, you ask her to get in front of you and carry her bridal style for the rest of the way, carrying this 50-something kilograms bundle of sweetness with ease. You feel her start to loosen up and lean her head on you as you’re carrying her, transferring the warmth from her body to yours. You wonder how this might look like to people who see you, but it’s the least of your concern right now; you’re at the peak of your life and it’s only getting better from this point onwards.

“We’re here, sweetie”, you say to her as you reach the front door of your apartment, not putting her down as you open the door and enter. You softly put her down on the couch bed, extending it out so she can lie down comfortably. Peck her on the forehead again to remind yourself that it is really happening. “Would you want some water, darling?”, she nods to the question, and you go get some cups of water for the both of you. You then sit next to her lying body and put her legs on your lap and softly massage them. “Oppa”, she softly calls out, “what made you like me?”. Her question is a simple one, but leaves you speechless nonetheless. “I don’t know, sweetie. I just felt drawn to you”, you start, “you’re just so charming, and graceful, and elegant, and— “, your brain realizes that these words sound absolutely ridiculous coming from you, so it tells your cheeks to blush so that you stop. Seoyeon giggles softly seeing you stop so suddenly, “anything else, oppa?”, she challenges. You look at her with a serious face, which made her bite her lip in nervousness, and hover over her. You stay there for a bit and slowly go down for a kiss, nice and slow, to show her your genuine love. Pull away from the kiss and tell her softly, “I love you, Yoon Seoyeon, with my entire being. Would you be mine, my only one?”. “Yes, oppa. I’m yours and you’re mine”, she replies, her soft smile prominent on her face.

You spend a bit more time cuddling with her on the couch bed, saying sweet things to her. However, you’re curious about something, “so what did you want do that you asked me to bring you here?”. Seoyeon stayed silent for a few seconds before turning to face you, “I want you to be my first, oppa”, she says while looking deep into your eyes—that’s one more bomb she dropped on you; if you weren’t already shattered from the previous ones, this one will surely end you. “That would be a huge honor for me, baby, but are you sure?”, you say, still holding yourself back even though blood has rushed to your cock, making you as hard as a rock. “Take me, oppa, make me truly yours”, she replies while softly rubbing your cheek with her hand.

Still in control of yourself, you get up from the couch and carry her bridal style again to your bedroom, the lights turning on automatically as you walk in. You put her down on the bed and move a stray hair covering her face, “you’re so beautiful, baby”, you mutter softly. Your self-control running thin, you ask her one more time if she’s sure about this, to which she replied by lolling in your bed, “take care of me, oppa, please”. You stand up by the footboard and start taking off your clothes in front of her, being confident with your physique as an active basketball player. Seoyeon keeps her eyes on you, biting her lips occasionally as you take off each layer, until you’re down to your boxers, your hard cock making a significant tent.

You see nervousness creeping up on her, “is it going to hurt, oppa?”. You climb nto the bed again and pet her head softly, “it will be uncomfortable at first, baby, but we’ll get through it together”, you assure her. Your assurance helps Seoyeon be less nervous, as she gives you a nod and pulls your hands to her top button, indirectly asking you to undress her. You take your time unbuttoning her shirt, paying attention to her gesture and expression, down until the last button. You open the curtain that is her unbuttoned shirt and see her mounds covered with a simple white bra, “I know they’re not as big—”, you shut her up with a kiss, “please, baby, you’re perfect as you are”, you tell her with a comforting smile on your face. You then start kissing down her entire body; from her neck down to her tummy, earning soft moans from her. Give her a calm smile as you unbutton and unzip her pants, her nervousness returning to her face. “I know I sound like a broken record, baby, but are you sure?”, you ask, even though your patience now is as thin as paper. She gives you a nod and a warm smile, so you pull her up on her feet and take her clothes off, leaving her only in her white underwear.

Set her down on the bed again before opening a drawer of the bedside table to get a condom. Seeing you unwrap one and putting it on, she grabs your arm and tells you once again, very softly, “please be gentle, oppa”. “I will, sweetie, I promise”, you reply before kissing her forehead. You get in the bed again and open her legs slowly, noticing the damp spot on her panties as soon as her legs are open wide enough for you to get in between. You look at her once more before sliding her panties off, revealing her shaved and untouched pussy. “Alright, are you ready, sweetie? I love you, okay? Don’t ever doubt that, not even for a second. Say ‘pochacco’ if you want to stop, baby”. “Yes, oppa, I’m ready. I love you with all my life”, she replies.

She gasps as soon as feels your tip on her entrance, “be gentle, please”, she begs you. You give her a nod and start pushing in, making her moan just a bit too loudly. You feel yourself getting past her barrier, turning her into a full-blown woman—your woman. She muffles a moan with her palm as a tear runs down her face. You lean forward and hug her, then whisper softly, “are you okay, sweetie? I love you”. “I-it hurts, oppa, you feel s-so big, plea-please be gentle”, she says as another tear runs down her cheek. “I know, baby, but please hold on for a second, okay? You also don’t have to cover your mouth. It’s okay to let go, you’re safe with me”, you assure her with a peck on the lips and wipe her tear with a thumb.

Straighten your back once more and start moving rhythmically in and out of her pussy, earning soft moans and some high-pitched ones from Seoyeon. “You’re so tight, baby. Such a good girl for me”, you tell her with heavy voice between thrusts. “Ye-yes, I’m your good girl, oppa”, she replies with shaky voice. She’s just so sweet, isn’t she? You promise yourself that you’re going to spend the rest of your life protecting every little bit of the woman underneath you, keeping her by your side until the end of time. A few more deep thrusts and she delivers a breaking news exclusively for you, “I-I feel like something is about to burst, oppa”—her first orgasm is coming soon, and you’re the cause. “Yes, baby. Let go, let it all go for me, my good girl”, you say as you speed up your rhythm. “OPPA I’M—”, she screams out loud as her juice gushes out of her small frame, forcing you to pull out. You lean forward and pet her head softly, waiting for her to come down from her high naturally. “You’re such a good girl, love. Let’s calm down before continuing, okay?”, you tell her calmly, a gentle smile drawn on your face. “What was that, oppa? What just happened?”, she asks, still panting from the foreign sensation. “That was your first orgasm, love”, “an orgasm, oppa? Does that mean I did well?”, “yes, you did, my love, you did very well. I’ll get you some water, okay?”, you two share a small exchange as she relaxes from her first ever orgasm.

After giving her some water and waiting for her to relax even more, you ask her if she’s ready to go again, chasing for your own orgasm this time. “I’m taking your bras off and then I’m going back in, sweetie”, you tell her. You start thrusting into her again at decent speed, making her freed breasts bounce with each thrust. “Yes, oppa, it doesn’t hurt as much now. Give it to me, give me your all, oppa”. Her encouragement fuels your arousal as you deliver deep, solid thrusts into her, chasing for another orgasm for her and your first tonight. She grabs your right hand and brings it to her breast, hoping that you would do something about it. You palm her breast and squeeze it softly every odd second, getting ever closer to your orgasm, “I’m getting close, baby, very close”, “yes, yes, oppa, I think I’m getting close too”, she says while moaning softly. A dozen thrusts and you feel the knot in your stomach tightening—you’re close to the finish line. “Seoyeon, baby, I’m cumming”, you notify her. “Me-me too, oppa, let’s cum together”, and the both of you do just that; you feel her walls tighten around your cock as you’re cumming, milking every drop of cum out of you. Feeling weak, you just fall forward on top of her and hug her tightly in your arms. Whisper in her ear, “baby, I love you so much. I really do”. “I love you too, oppa. My oppa”.

After gathering your strength for a bit, you pull out and take off the condom, tying it into a knot then showing it to her, “this is all you, baby, you made me cum this much”, you tell her. You see her blushing before covering her face with her hands. “I’m gonna run you a shower, baby, wait a sec, yeah?”. You leave her lying down in bed while you head to the bathroom to start a shower for the two of you. You then go back to the bedroom and carry her to the bedroom to start the aftercare—"this was her first time, she deserves all the sweetness I can show her”, you think to yourself. “Alright, baby, let’s get you cleaned up, yeah? Stand under the shower and face that wall for me, please”, you tell her after making sure she can stand up on her own, to which she just nods and does as you ask. You start by letting water run all over her then turning it off so you can rub her back all the way down to her legs with some soap, going up and down multiple times to make sure you don’t miss a spot. Once that’s done, you turn off the shower and stand back up while gesturing to her to turn around to face you. She looks up at you with her big eyes and a wide smile on her face, “oppa, I love you”, she says, getting on her tippy toes to kiss you. You lean down and kiss her deeply, “I love you more, baby. Let’s finish this, okay?”.

After getting out of the shower all cleaned up, you put her back in bed and lie down next to her to start the second part of the aftercare. You’re peppering her with pecks all over her face, saying “I love you” after each peck. You’re still curious about something, though, so you ask her, “darling, what made you fall for me so suddenly?”. Surprised with your question, she blushes and stays quiet before answering, “I-I think that you’re a kind and sweet and attentive person a-and heard that you’re a top student while being a student-athlete. I fe-felt attracted to you out of nowhere, oppa. I even asked my mom if this is what they call love at first sight, and sh-she said that it could very well be, so I decided to take the chance”—"what a sweet girl, that was a lot of good adjectives, too”, your heart tells you while listening to her—“and then you showed me your how kind and sweet you really are, and I couldn’t help but to fall even deeper for you”, she covers her face again after finishing her piece, visibly shy about confessing to you. Needless to say, you’re very satisfied with her answer, so you reward her with a passionate kiss, “I love you so much, Yoon Seoyeon, and I don’t care if I sound like a broken record every time I say it. Let’s put on some clothes before going to sleep, okay?”. You get some T-shirts and shorts for the two of you, putting them on for her. You also make sure that her clothes are hung neatly in the wardrobe so that they’re not creased since she’s probably wearing that again tomorrow.

You two get ready to end this eventful day by cuddling, getting ready to get some sleep. So, for the last time tonight, “I love you, sweetie. I can’t wait to spend more time with you in the future”, “I love you more, oppa. Thank you for everything”. With her last statement, the both of you drift off to sleep. You still can’t believe how lucky you are to have her not only fall for you but also call her yours.

[woradat]

Hold me tight

SUMMARY - before you drift away, into the galaxy —too far for him to reach, he should have held onto you tighter, but he didn't (pre-war)

PAIRING - jetfire x reader, skyfire x reader

·

·

He should have left the moment the projector’s beam sliced through the dim chamber and cast the silhouette of another onto the polished obsidian floor

The light cut across the dust-moted air like a blade of frozen sunlight—soft, but unyielding. The silhouette did not shift. Merely stood there, tall and still, as if carved from old starlight and authority

Jetfire’s vents caught in his throat

He remained rooted. Not out of defiance—no, never that—but because the variables of movement and consequence had suddenly multiplied beyond calculation. His body refused to obey logic. The simplest action—turn, retreat, explain—felt like a catastrophic misstep on a precarious quantum equation

He could feel the temperature change in the air. Not with heat, but with presence—that ineffable shift when another mind steps into your radius and rewrites the gravity of the room

He tilted his gaze upward, slowly. Reluctantly. Bracing for a voice made of judgment and protocol

Expulsion. Citation. Public apology. Reclamation

A thousand outcomes bloomed in his mind like faulty computations

Instead, the voice that came was neither clipped nor cruel

It was curious

“If the universe is a question... are you attempting to answer it with a nobleman’s equation?”

The words rolled out with a peculiar elegance—like poetry smuggled into science, soft and sharp in equal measure. The voice was stately but playful, as though both mocking and indulging him

Jetfire blinked. His vocalizer crackled slightly before functioning

“I’m sorry. I just… the datapads fell, and I—”

“And you chose to pick them up” the other said, stepping closer. Their silhouette became clearer in the light, glinting at the edges—like moonlight caught on the lip of a goblet “And you read them”

Jetfire stiffened

“Not the worst choice. But don’t expect praise for daring to think without permission. Not in this building”

He looked down, shame creeping like corrosion through his circuits—until the next words caught him off-guard

“But I commend you”

His gaze snapped back up, optics wide

The other offered the datapad back to him with a delicacy that bordered on reverence—like handing over something fragile, alive, and perhaps forbidden

“Are you the kind who reads to believe, or the kind who reads to question?”

It wasn’t a trick question. And yet it felt like it held a lock to something far beyond data

Jetfire opened his mouth—but the question was too rich, too strange. Not designed for swift answers, only quiet undoings

The stranger smiled. It was not warm, but it was honest

“I ask for one hour of your time. Each day. In the lower chamber. The one they abandoned after the war scare. I wish to see whether your gravitational equations map the stars as I do”

“You mean… you want me to research with you?”

“No” A quiet, indulgent laugh “I want you to answer one question a day. No more”

They stepped past him then, their field brushing faintly against his like the edge of magnetism—unseen, but undeniable

“Here’s one to begin: do you believe the sinusoidal fluctuations in the gravity of dying stars suggest any pattern in the behavior of consciousness?”

Jetfire made a choked noise

“What?”

“Too soon? Forgive me. I tend to start conversations in the middle.” They turned, pausing in the doorway like a scholar on the brink of forgetting their own name

“Let’s begin again. What’s yours?”

“…Jetfire”

The figure did not offer their own. They merely studied him—as though reading a newly named particle—and murmured:

“Fitting. One day, perhaps, you’ll fly”

Then, without waiting for response, they vanished into the hall—leaving Jetfire to stare at the flickering projector still humming softly, and wonder if he had just been inducted into a secret society of one

—

No one had ever once suggested to him that silence, in a space built to amplify the smallest of sounds, could resonate in such a peculiar, almost devastating manner. Silence in a laboratory wasn’t a void, not quite. No, it was a substance, something that wrapped around you like an invisible fog, as if every molecule of the room itself was holding its breath, waiting for the next disruption, the next event, the next explanation. But tonight, the air felt particularly thick with it—as though the universe had paused for a heartbeat, just for him

It had taken him years of training, of learning how to concentrate in the face of chaos, of adapting his mind to the punctuated rhythm of data and deductions. Yet it was in this silence, this suspended moment, that Jetfire realized with a sudden jolt of clarity: he had been waiting

Waiting for what? He wasn’t entirely sure, but the answer lingered just at the edge of his awareness, like a half-remembered dream or a word you knew was on the tip of your tongue but couldn’t quite pull to the surface. Perhaps he had been waiting for the familiar hum of his sensors to be disturbed by the singular presence that always found him here, at the desk beside some unfinished analysis, surrounded by research notes, and the faint scent of machine oil

“You're two and a half minutes late”

The words—no, the voice—cut through the stillness with a precision Jetfire could never quite predict. Dry. Unfazed. The perfect example of an observation made simply because it was there to be noted, like the path of an asteroid traversing the cold void of space

Jetfire smiled faintly—a rare, slanted curl of his mouth that he never showed to anyone else

"I was detained by an emergency briefing. Apologies, I—"

“Mmm… A grave offense indeed” you replied in a drawl, lifting a bottle of lubricant and giving it a shake like someone mixing a midnight cocktail

A faint snort interrupted him, not mocking, but amused in the way that only someone who knew how to reduce the weight of all things could manage "Grievous misconduct. And as for your punishment, I’m afraid you’ll have to endure my complete and utterly enlightening lecture on The Gravitational Philosophy of Dream Oscillations"

Jetfire let out a soft, incredulous laugh, shaking his head slightly "I... didn’t realize that was an actual field of study"

"No, of course not" came the immediate response, with an exaggerated lift of the speaker’s shoulders as if it were entirely unimportant whether or not they were speaking of any truth

"But you see, I had a dream last night—a dream—and in it, the entire universe existed without a gravitational core. It was, naturally, quite difficult to navigate, because everything, every matter, every thought, just… drifted. But strangely, there was one constant. One force"

The absurdity of the words struck his mind like a needle to the most tender part of thought—sharp, precise, and disturbingly accurate

Jetfire lowered himself into the lab's rickety swivel chair. The metal frame groaned in protest

“And in that dream of yours… did anyone survive?”

There was a pause. The other bot stilled, set the bottle down, and looked up with an expression halfway between amusement and strange clarity

“There was one. The one who created gravity themselves… and pulled all the stars toward them — with sheer will of heart"

Jetfire didn’t reply right away. He simply sat there, listening as the scientist across the room rambled on in whimsical metaphors—half-poetry, half-forgotten philosophy. And while his logical mind attempted to separate fantasy from fact, his spark was doing the opposite

It was pulling everything inward. Toward a center

Toward you—the one who always sounded like you were joking, but never once lied

At first, he had merely been here because the lab offered access to rare instruments—free from bureaucratic rituals. Then he had chosen to stay because you understood the language of science. But now…

He didn’t want to leave

"Do you always dream like that?" Jetfire asked, his voice softer than he intended. It wasn’t just about the dream, of course. It never really was. But this—this peculiar pull, this gravity between them, that wasn’t the kind of thing Jetfire could admit easily. And so, he hid it behind his inquiry

You smile, when it came, was a quiet thing, edged with a knowing that only made Jetfire more uncertain of his own thoughts "Sometimes" they replied. "I think it’s the only way to escape the weight of everything around us. Dreams don’t have to make sense, after all"

He wanted to argue with that, wanted to say that dreams weren’t supposed to be some ethereal escape, but the truth was, he couldn’t. Not when the room itself felt so real when it was just the two of them standing at its center

There was a tension here, one that neither of them had asked for, but neither could escape. A strange, compelling force between them that felt like the pull of unseen stars—a pull neither had the strength to ignore. And yet, there was no admission. No declaration. Just an ever-growing understanding that, in the quietest moments, they both understood the same thing without ever speaking it aloud: the universe, in all its infinite complexity, could very well be shaped, and bent, by the simplest of forces—whether gravity, or will, or even something as unmeasurable as a glance

It was when the silence stretched again, both of them sitting side by side, neither of them quite able to leave, that Jetfire realized with a sudden clarity that the silence between them had changed

It had shifted, imperceptibly, but undeniably

And the only thing left for him to do now was to accept that it had happened. And maybe… maybe he didn’t need to fill it with words

Maybe the absence was the answer

—

After day and after day, Jetfire returned

He told his superiors that he was conducting field surveys around the Senate Tower perimeter. In truth, he just kept finding reasons to enter the lab again. To sit across from you—the planetary scientist who seemed less like an academic and more like a verse carved from the cosmic dust itself

You explained quantum entanglement with the cadence of a bedtime tale. Your hand gestures painted orbit lines in the air. You labeled your document drawers with star charts instead of numbers

You once asked, in a perfectly serious tone: “If stars could write letters to one another, what grammar would they use?”

It wasn’t a question he could answer. But he remembered it

—

Each day, once the experiments ended, there came a brief, weightless moment—just the two of you, sitting quietly beside cooling machinery. Watching an unfinished star map flicker on the display screen. Sometimes, no words were exchanged. And yet, the silence felt full—like a breath the universe was holding in

“You know” your voice broke the hush, “in this vast universe… perhaps we’re nothing but space dust. Maybe none of this means anything"

Jetfire turned to look at you. He had never considered the thought in quite that way before. But then, unexpectedly, words slipped past his lips

“Maybe… it means something to us. Just now.. like this”

You gave him a faint smile. You looked like you were going to say something else, but chose not to

The silence that followed wasn’t like the one from the first time you met. It wasn’t hollow. It was full of questions that didn’t need answers

“Do you have a plan for what comes next?” Jetfire asked, voice almost hesitant

“Explore the whole universe” you replied at once, mischief dancing behind your optics “And you?”

He paused, then smiled too “I’d like to go with you.. but I don’t know where to start"

And in that moment, he realized: it wasn’t just about the stars above, or the trajectories he could calculate. It was that with you beside him, even the smallest questions in life felt like they carried immense weight

“Sometimes, it only takes one strange little question to lead us away from everything we thought we knew” you said gently, your voice already drifting into another realm

Jetfire looked at you, and the universe suddenly felt smaller

Maybe… the journey didn’t need a destination

“And what if there's no path to follow?”

“Then we’ll find one. Or make one. Together”

The answer came clearly, as if it had been waiting inside you all along

And for the first time, Jetfire felt as though he was beginning to understand his own journey—not through drive or ambition, but through a stillness that could not be measured by instruments

—

Jetfire was hunched over a data console, utterly immersed, when they leaned on his side—too close, of course, deliberately so. They always had a knack for standing where they weren’t needed, asking questions that twisted like Möbius strips and left interns fleeing for quieter company. But Jetfire never asked them to leave

You didn’t speak at first, only watched the patterns scrolling across his screen, their chin resting in one servo, optics half-lidded like a cat watching a bird it wasn’t quite hungry enough to catch

“So"

You murmured eventually “if quantum field fluctuations respond to proximity and intent—what do you suppose that says about us, hm?”

Jetfire didn’t turn. He paused, one servo frozen mid-input, then resumed typing with a sudden stiff precision “It says you’ve been reading fringe journals again"

“And flirting, if you noticed"

“I noticed"

A beat. Then another, long enough for them to step back like they usually would, laugh it off with a joke about social experiments gone wrong. But you didn’t. You stayed

“You always act so composed” you said softly “but your EM field is terribly loud when you're pretending I don’t affect you"

Jetfire’s digits stalled again

They continued, letting their words fall with the kind of offhand rhythm that made people forget how sharp they really were

“Do you know what I think? I think you like being bothered. I think you find me—” Their digits lightly tapped the back of his shoulder, where circuitry was most sensitive “—stimulating"

Now he did turn, ever so slightly, not enough to meet their gaze but just enough to suggest caution “You’re not usually.. be like this"

“I’m not usually this serious” you replied, smile lopsided and voice light as starlight

“But you are. You’re always so precise. So heavy with your truths. So terribly fond of structure. And I… well” you stepped closer again, tone dipping into something uncharacteristically tender “I’d like to see what happens when something... unstructured gets under your plating"

Jetfire inhaled sharply, and for once, didn’t have an answer ready. Not a theory. Not a quip. Just the steady thrum of his field responding, betraying him

You tilted your helm and added—half playful, half hopeful “Would you permit the hypothesis that I’m fond of you?”

Jetfire stared for a moment, then—slowly, achingly—nodded

A beat passed

Then you smirked

“Excellent. Expect several invasive follow-up experiments. Peer-reviewed, of course"

He sighed, the sound brittle with half-swallowed laughter, and muttered under his breath “I should’ve known”

“Oh, you did” you grinned, optics bright “You just hoped I’d be subtle"

.

.

They didn’t leave that evening

Not when the lights dimmed for shift-change. Not when Jetfire’s screen flickered into idle starlight. Not even when silence began to pool between them like liquid static, heavy with unsaid things

You stood beside him, arms folded, posture languid—but your optics gleamed with calculation, as though you were calibrating an orbit

“Did you know” you began in that infuriatingly smooth tone “that shared frequency alignment over time can be... accelerated, if both subjects are in prolonged proximity?”

Jetfire glanced at you warily “Are you proposing that we sit closer?”

“Oh, sweetspark. I’m proposing far more than that"

You stepped in until your helm nearly brushed his shoulder, their voice a low hum—part mockery, part invocation “I’ve been circling your orbit for cycles, Jetfire. Tapping at your shields. Reading your footnotes. Tuning myself to your silences and you—” your servo brushed his arm, a fleeting contact that felt measured, deliberate, almost reverent “You always flinch like truth is a wound. But I wonder... what happens if I don’t let you look away this time?”

Jetfire inhaled sharply. His optics flicked to theirs, wide, vulnerable—and caught

“I ..I didn’t mean to mislead—”

“Oh, I know” they interrupted gently, stepping closer still “You were trying to protect yourself. You always do. But I’m not here to dissect you, Jetfire. I’m here to choose you. Again and again. With all your walls and silences and nervous, noble spark"

He swallowed thickly “You can’t just say things like that"

“I can” you whispered “and I will"

A moment passed. And then, as if gravity had given up—

Jetfire reached for them

It wasn’t elegant. It wasn’t rehearsed. It was the startled, breathless motion of someone who had spent too long holding back—and now couldn’t

Their bodies met in a slow, deliberate collision, a hush of metal and warmth. His arms enfolded them like he was afraid they’d vanish, and they leaned into him with a smile that tasted like triumph and tenderness all at once

“I love you” he whispered, almost inaudible “Primus help me"

The confession landed like stardust—soft, infinite, real

They leaned up, brushing their mouth along the edge of his jaw in a kiss so subtle it felt like a secret, and murmured “I know. You were terribly obvious. But adorable about it"

He gave a shuddering laugh—and when they kissed him fully, it was slow and breathless and aching, like two minds syncing after endless static. No rush. No chaos. Just resonance

When you pulled back, they pressed their forehead to his and added with mock-seriousness “Now that we’ve aligned... may I begin the real experiments?”

Jetfire exhaled, optics fluttering shut “Primus. What have I unleashed?”

“A lover with a lab and very ambitious hypotheses”

—

The world was already fraying at the seams

Cities once humming with philosophy and particle dreams now bristled with paranoia, blared slogans through smog-thick air. Everywhere, signs were changing—banners raised, sides drawn, colors worn not with pride but with the desperation of identity carved into metal and flame. War had not yet come in name, but its scent was already in the circuits of every thinking mech

You stood in the hangar of the survey vessel they once treated like a daydream—tall, sleek, built for long-term celestial research. It was the kind of ship only a handful of scientists could even touch. But you had clearance. You had always been too curious, too vocal, too exhausting for bureaucratic comfort—but undeniably brilliant

Enough to be tolerated

Enough to be trusted

Enough to leave

You had recalibrated the nav systems two cycles ago, quietly. Stocked the coolant, loaded rations. Ran diagnostics under cover of "long-range sub-quantum testing" All ready and now, Jetfire stood before them, half-shadowed by the cold white light

“You knew I wouldn’t come"

You smiled softly. Not sad. Not angry. Just... aware

“Yes. I knew” your voice was like paper slowly folding in firelight—delicate, measured, but glowing from within “But knowing doesn’t dull the wanting, Jetfire. I wanted to believe we’d chase nebulae together. That we'd map the gravitational poems of the void and argue about nothing for a few million years"

He looked away. His Decepticon badge wasn’t fully painted yet—half-dried on his plating, like a promise he hadn’t learned to carry “There’s too much wrong here to run from"

“I’m not running” you stepped closer “I’m leaving. There’s a difference"

Jetfire’s optics flicked up, stricken “Don’t say it like it’s noble"

“It’s not..” A small, tired laugh “It’s cowardice and dreamdust and a touch of statistical pragmatism. There’s nothing noble about solitude, Jetfire. But... I have to go"

You reached up, gently resting two digits on the badge’s edge. Not to peel it away. Just to feel the heat of it

“I know what this means to you. I know why you chose it. And I don’t blame you for choosing a war over the stars. Someone has to stay and fight for the ones who can’t escape"

He looked at them as if they were already a ghost

“And what if I regret this?” he asked quietly

“Then I hope you find me” they said simply “Out there, among the dark harmonics of some distant system. I’ll be cataloguing the spin of dying suns. Waiting. Not for you—but for the version of you who’s ready"

Silence bloomed between them like a nova

No kiss. No hug. Just two minds, once aligned, now drifting—still caught in each other’s gravity, but on diverging trajectories

And then you turned, boarding the ship alone

As the launch thrusters powered up and the docking bay peeled open to the black, star-speckled vastness, they allowed themselves one final indulgence—a line spoken softly to the emptiness beside them: “You were my favorite hypothesis, Jetfire. I hope the data proves me wrong"

And then you were gone

—

Some nights,

he sits in front of the console, reading through your logs—the ones detailing anomalous gravitational phenomena you were trying to make sense of

And in one of them, there’s a single line that has nothing to do with science at all: "If I became a star no one could see, would someone, somewhere, peer through a lens and know that I was lonely?"

Jetfire quietly closes the datapad

He understands now… you weren’t asking for an answer. You were reaching out, wondering if someone was listening

And he—he always was

Even if he never said a word back

·

·

NOTE - don't be so surprised. I mean yeah and they broke up like that. Ha

[art]

Meet the Artist: @kudriaken

Hi! My name is Anna, but I go by the nickname “Kudriaken”. I am an illustrator and artist who mostly draws fantasy. I am also working on my own story that I plan to someday draw as a comic. I think I always had the urge to draw stuff to accompany stories that I would randomly see in my head since I was a child. And I am continuing to do it as an adult. I take a lot of inspiration from books, manga, comics, songs, and shows. Sometimes you can see me doing fanarts of the media I am passionate about. But also a lot of precious people around help me to be creative. My actual education is not exactly art-related - I studied computer science. Weirdly enough it somewhat helps with learning art in some departments. I realized in the middle of my studies that my passion lies in the field of digital art, so that's where I am now.

Pleased to meet you, Anna! Below are some of her artworks that she has picked out for you all to appreciate.

For more of Anna’s work, be sure to check out her Tumblr, @kudriaken!

[pinkslaystation]

If I meant something to you.

toxic!Simon 'Ghost' Riley x Reader

You want him, but does he want you? Part 2 :> Part 3 :< Word Count: 2.1k

Whatever you did, you always found yourself being a disappoint to your parents.

First, it was getting rejected from the university your parents intended you to go to. Then, it was working at a job that didn't utilise your degree. And now, it's complaint after complaint for being in a 'relationship' with some they didn't approve of.

"Honey, I just don't think he's the right one for you..." Your mother complained on the phone for what felt like the thousandth time this day.

You rolled your eyes exasperatingly, happy that she couldn't see your annoyance through the call.

"Ma...you haven't even met him, I don't see why it's such a big deal, I'm finally out of your hair anyways, isn't that what you wanted?" You argued.

Everyday felt like a battle for your parent's time and affection.

Living under the shadows of your siblings was a pain. Your older sister had pursued a law degree at a top university when you were just in high school, and moved abroad to practice at one of the best law firms in the US. Your younger brother, on the other hand, was in their 2nd year studying Aeronautical Engineering at the same university as the elder. You felt like the odd one out in every field.

And here you are, stuck working in retail even though you complete your Bachelors degree in Computer Science.

Whatever you did, just was not enough for your parents.

So you saved enough money from your job, took out a small loan and made the decision to pack your bags and move to the Midlands, which was just regionally higher up than where you initially resided in your family home. How funny was it that you were the last sibling to move out?

After weeks of working your ass of at your new 8-6 job...still in retail, one silent evening after taking out the trash, you found yourself coming face to face to your neighbor.

And to say to he was attractive was an understatement. He had a tall tower-like frame, height ranging anywhere from 6'2 to 6'4, his scarred face was decorated with dirty blonde, short yet soft, hair and a slight stubble. His face, though rough, looked almost model worthy and held a permanent angry face, eyebrows furrowed and jaw clenching as if it hurt to open them.

"You got a staring problem, love?" He scoffed at you, the first time your met. You stumbled over your words, eyes wide as saucepans.

"!- we- um..who..who are you?"

The blonde chuckled at you sarcastically, "Your neighbour, Riley, you won't see as often so close that bloody mouth of yours."

And he was right, out of 7 months of living at your new flat, you'd seen him only a handful of times. You often found yourself questioning his occupation, why exactly he hangs out and about the area for a week, then just suddenly just disappears, like a ghost.

You'd learnt from the other residents that he worked within the military, whether it was the marines, the air force or the army, you never knew, until one faithful morning, you found yourself nestled against his broad warm chest, both of you hungover from the block party that all of the residents had been invited to.

"Hmm...mornin'" He grunts out at you, and the slightly reddening marks running down his neck and the bruising hand prints on your waist told you enough about the previous night.

You stiffen next to him, but his rough skin grazing against your skin urges to continue to curl up beside him.

Fast-forward another 5 months, it's been nearly a year of knowing 'Riley' and nearly a year you'd seen anyone from your family. You've always wanted to know how long they would be able to go on without you...and you'd finally got your answer.

You've learnt a lot of things about 'Riley'. For starters, his full name was Simon, though everyone in the building referred to him by his last name (you'd pestered him too much, and he finally caved in and allowed you to call him by his first name). He was almost 10 years elder to you and his striking face was usually masked with a black balaclava or those disposable ones.

"Ma, I'm happy, why can't you just be happy for me?"

"Sweetheart, why don't you come home for the weekend and we can finally meet this man. I mean since you're exclusive and everything."

"We...we're not that level yet-"

"Your older sister's getting married and she's only 4 years older than you.-"

"Why do you keep bringing her up? What's she got to do with this?"

"Honey, listen, me and your father are happy you're with someone. I mean this is the first time someone actually liked you right?"

Ouch.

"It wouldn't hurt to meet the old fella, no?"

Ah, one important part I forgot to mention.

You weren't dating Simon.

In fact, you guys never really established a relationship between the two of you. When he was home from deployment, your evening usually consisted of lazing about after work, wine in hand, Simon walking in, a few words exchanged here and there about his work-

Oh, and the night ending with a good rough fucking.

The morning would come by and you'd walk into your shift, your hickey-adorned chest and neck covered with a black turtleneck although it was the middle of August (and against the uniform policy).

So one night you decided to break away from his dominating kiss, and sit him down for a heartfelt conversation-

"Why'd you want to complicate things," he sneers, "we're just fuck buddies yeah?"

"Excuse me? So, what those 5 months didn't mean shit to you?" You scoffed, rather offended that he looked down at you, just like your family.

"You're old enough to be my kid, what make you think this was gonna go anywhere?" He stands up, lighting a smoke, knowing you hated the stench of his cigarettes in your room. It was always your room, always your flat. You can't remember the last time you even went to Simon's place, if there ever was a time.

"Who has a kid at 10? And why'd you keep fucking me? And I'm 24 fucking years old, Jesus, why does that not go through anyone's thick ass skull?!"

"Calm down love, thought this arrangement was mutual, I've got pent up frustration from the military, you're pent up 'cos no one else wants you-"

"Those nights didn't mean anything to you?"

"You don't mean anything to me." He asserts furiously. You studied him, the glimpse of that comforting man who stroked your back and kissed your forehead post-sex really wasn't there.

The fuck does this guy think he is?

"Get out."

"Done."

And he gets up and leaves, blowing a puff of smoke as if to scent the room. Just like that. Wow, was there anyone in your life that actually cared about you?

All those Wattpad stories taught you that the guy usually fights for his lover, screaming back saying that he won't leave without a fight, arguing that that the pair deserved each other. And yet, here you are, sobbing in the shower, unable to differentiate whether your body is getting soaked from the water or from the river of salty tears streaming down your dull, lifeless face, all because the guy you wanted never truly wanted you back.

You felt used, mainly your body. Rubbing yourself full of soap just caused your mind to flash back to his thick calloused hands massaging every inch of skin.

When you occasionally saw him at the building get together, which you wonder why he even attends considering he just hates and complains about everyone (everyone but you of course), you'd find yourself glued on the spot, lips quivering, tears threatening to spill again- and the throbbing. Man, the throbbing you felt between your legs. If it wasn't for his dick, you'd really be wondering why you craved him so bad, because it's definitely not his nasty personality.

And every time you open your mouth to say something to him, to call him over, to greet him, hell you should be cursing him out in front of everyone, he just stormed out with his head down with what looks like a combination of embarrassment or grief.

Until one night, you get a phone call from your older sister, the unsaved number appearing unfamiliar to you. Your hesitant to pick up.

"Hello?"

"Heyyy," She drags out her words, as if to waste time. You can tell your mother meddled in between, "So, I'm having the engagement party by the end of this month, and um...you free to come? No worries if you can't."

You pause, did she even want you there?

"Sure."

"Cool. Um, Mum says you're seeing someone, you can bring 'em if you want."

"Sure."

"Yeah, dunno if it's serious enough but there's enough space in the venue."

"Sure."

There's a pause on the other line.

"Hey can you say anything other than 'sUrE'?" She mocks you. Your eyebrow twitches in amusement.

"Did you just call to brag about you and your fancy ass engagement party? And the audacity to not send an invite, if you don't want me there, just say it. I'm not a baby anymore." You frustratingly answer.

Your sister remains quiet on the other line and you can tell you struck a nerve.

"I- listen I know we never get along but can you please come? Ma keeps mentioning you, surprisingly, and- and we haven't seen you in months, you don't even reply to the memes on the family group chat..."

You blink. "We have a family group chat?"

The rest of the month was empty, and although you were thankful for no more surprising run-ins with Simon, you missed having a warm body next to you. You learnt from one of the residents that he's been deployed for 3 weeks, this particular one shorter than others.

He confused you, Simon. He hated the idea of being in a relationship with you, yet he did 'relationship things' with you. He disliked when people assumed you two were a couple in public, but he always had his arm around you protectively. Not even education was this stressful.

And as much as you wanted to sit and let the misery marinate into your mind, you knew the date of the engagement party was nearing and you knew you couldn't come empty-handed.

By the end of the 3rd week, you knew Simon had come home, recognising the sound of the heavy footsteps entering his flat next door at 3 in the morning, you being awake from all the stress your high-maintenance sister had thrown suddenly at you. But you couldn't help but notice the sound of a softer treads following his. Maybe he got a pet?

That night, you had trouble sleeping, unsure whether it was the stress of trying to impress your family or the light sound of the headboards of next door creaking. That sound was familiar, reminding you when he was over at your place, rocking gently inside of you, though you question why he's not with you this moment. Usually you'd find him at the other side of the door, tired eyes resembling those of a stray puppy looking for a place to stay.

You close your eyes, your mind racing to the thought of the burly man on the other side of the wall rubbing himself to the thought of you. You sink into the bed, disregarding that unignorable pulsating feeling.

Saturday morning come, and you stretched contently, knowing that you finally had the day off from work. But that short-lived happiness dimmed when you checked the unread notification blasting through your phone.

7:29 A.M. #####:- hey listen i meant it when i said i wanted you there. pls come. #####:- it wouldnt just make ma happy but me too #####:- u gotta be there to make look better haha im joking

You had a feeling that she was not.

7:56 A.M. #####:-and uh, bring your guy as well pls, ma's so excited planning this wedding she wants to get started on the next one too lolol #####:- also she thinks your lying :/

Great, now there's actual pressure to bring someone.

Your morning dose of caffeine didn't hit today, as your body feels heavier than usual as you trudge all the way to your doorstep. When the last time you actually left your apartment if not for work?

Forcing yourself to look decently good, you make your way to your neighbour's doorstep, knocking so softly you almost tried again, until the door abruptly open, revealing a wet toweled Simon.

An eerie silence captures the atmosphere, consists of his eyes drinking in your disheveled appearance after almost a month, and yours undressing him, as if he wasn't already standing almost-nude.

He opens his mouth to say something but you beat him to it, "Listen I know you've been deployed for the past 3 weeks, but listen I need a favour, I know you hate me and don't want to be with me but I really need a date to an engagement party, and I hate men and men hate me so I don't know anyone but you, and here me out, but could you please take some time out of your month to please be my date, I know you don't like me like that, which makes no sense to me 'cos you're in that mask almost the same number of times as you're in me- just please give it a thought-"

There's a cough behind Simon.

A half nude woman runs past you, head down in shame, smilingly guiltily as she tiptoes out of his room. She heard it all, you thought.

You look at Simon, suddenly recollected last night's events, the 2nd footsteps, the headboard banging. It all made sense. You really didn't mean anything to him.

Simon shifts on his feet uncomfortably.

"Surprise?"

its's 2 a.m. as i post this...why do my brain cells suddenly begin to work post-midnight I've decided to start a tag list! -> lemme know you're interested to be tagged in my future posts! tags -> @lilliumrorum

[mikaylathenerd5]

Game Day Heat + One Shot

Masterlist Summary: Joe Anoa’i, WWE’s Tribal Chief and a Georgia Tech football legend, shares a thrilling game day at Bobby Dodd Stadium with his girlfriend, Isla Navarro, a cybersecurity specialist and fellow Tech alum who once dreamed of him from afar. The electric atmosphere of the Yellow Jackets’ victory fuels their passion, setting the stage for a night of intense connection in Joe’s luxurious Midtown condo. As their shared history deepens their bond, Joe’s wrestling-honed stamina and Isla’s admiration for her campus icon lead to a fiery, emotional evening that blurs the line between fantasy and reality. Will their love shine as brightly as the Atlanta skyline? Warnings: This one-shot contains mature themes. Please read at your own discretion. Explicit sexual content (graphic descriptions of sex, including oral and penetrative), Light BDSM (light bondage, spanking, Daddy kink), Squirting, Emotional vulnerability, Alcohol consumption (wine), Mature language (profanity, explicit dialogue), Brief mention of an age gap, Voyeuristic elements (implied) Authors Note: Might have gotten carried away lol but hope you enjoy. Trying something different for once. This can be read as a standalone from the book series. But as always, feel free to leave a comment 💛🖤💛🖤 Word Count: 5.7k words

Bobby Dodd Stadium, Atlanta, GA

The air at Bobby Dodd Stadium crackled with raw energy, the stands a vibrant sea of gold and white, the scent of grilled hot dogs, spilled beer, and fresh-cut grass hanging heavy in the September breeze. The crowd roared as the Georgia Tech Yellow Jackets sealed a victory with a last-second touchdown, the stadium lights casting a golden glow over the field, the atmosphere electric with triumph, the distant hum of Atlanta traffic a faint undercurrent to the cheers. Joe Anoa’i sat in the alumni section, his massive frame filling out a fitted Georgia Tech hoodie, the fabric stretched tight over his broad shoulders, his tattooed arm wrapped possessively around his girlfriend, Isla Navarro. The game-day intensity stirred a fire in Joe—he’d been a star defensive tackle for Tech years ago, his name still a legend among fans, his legacy etched into the turf below. Now, as the Tribal Chief of WWE, Joe was known for his unmatched stamina in the ring, dominating matches with a relentless endurance that left opponents exhausted and fans in awe—a trait that carried over into every aspect of his life, especially with Isla, who’d admired him from afar during her college days. Isla, who’d attended Tech much later, pressed herself against his side, her gold Tech T-shirt clinging to her curves, the soft cotton catching the light, her dark hair tumbling in waves over her shoulder, her eyes bright with joy as she cheered, her voice hoarse from shouting, her laughter a melody that warmed Joe’s chest.

Isla had always respected Joe’s legacy at Tech, the stories of his unyielding spirit on the field a quiet inspiration during her own student days, though they’d never met back then. As a computer science major, she’d been deeply immersed in her studies, often camped out in the Clough Undergraduate Learning Commons with her laptop open, debugging code or working through complex data structures, her determination to excel in her field driving her through late nights and endless cups of coffee. But even amidst her rigorous academic schedule, she couldn’t help but overhear the whispered legends of Joe Anoa’i—the star defensive tackle who’d graduated years before her time, his name a symbol of grit and glory on the field. She’d catch snippets of his games playing on a loop in the student lounge nearby, her eyes occasionally flickering to the screen, a small smile tugging at her lips as she imagined what it would be like to meet the man behind the myth, though her focus always snapped back to her coding projects, her dreams of a future in cybersecurity taking precedence. Now, as his girlfriend, she felt a deep thrill watching the game with him, the reality of being in his arms a dream she’d never thought would come true, his warmth a steady anchor amidst the chaos, his scent—a heady mix of cedarwood cologne, leather, and the faint musk of sweat—wrapping around her like a lover’s embrace. Joe’s hand rested on her thigh, his calloused fingers tracing slow, deliberate patterns on her skin through her jeans, each touch a spark that set her nerves alight, his grip possessive yet tender, a silent promise of the night ahead. “You’re a fuckin’ vision in gold, baby,” he murmured in her ear, his deep voice a low growl, the sound vibrating through her, making a sharp pulse flare deep in her belly. Isla blushed, her cheeks warming under his gaze, her voice teasing as she leaned closer, her lips brushing his ear, the scent of her jasmine perfume mingling with the stadium air, “Wait ‘til you see what I’ve got for you after the game, Daddy—your college crush has a surprise.”

Joe’s eyes darkened, a storm of desire brewing in their depths, his grip tightening on her thigh, the pressure sending a jolt of heat to her core, his dick twitching in his jeans at the nickname. “You’re playin’ with fire, baby—gonna make Daddy burn for you,” he growled, his voice rough with need, his lips grazing her earlobe, the heat of his words sending a shiver down her spine, her panties already damp with anticipation. “I can’t wait to get you alone, Isla—gonna make you scream for me,” he added, his voice a low rumble, the promise making her walls flutter with need, her heart racing with anticipation, knowing his stamina would ensure a night of relentless pleasure. The crowd’s final cheer marked the Yellow Jackets’ win, the victory fueling their adrenaline as they left the stadium hand in hand, the Atlanta skyline shimmering against the night sky, a glittering backdrop to the fire building between them.

They arrived at the luxurious condo Joe had rented for the weekend, a sleek penthouse in Midtown with floor-to-ceiling windows that framed the city’s twinkling lights, a modern kitchen with gleaming marble counters, and a spacious bedroom with a king-sized bed draped in crisp white sheets, the scent of fresh linen mingling with the faint musk of their anticipation. Isla insisted on cooking dinner, her way of grounding herself after the game’s intensity, and Joe couldn’t tear his eyes away as she moved around the kitchen, her hips swaying with a natural rhythm as she prepared a creamy pasta dish, the scent of garlic, basil, and parmesan filling the air, the sizzle of the pan a soft counterpoint to the pounding of his heart. “You need me, baby?” he asked, his voice a low rumble, his eyes tracing the curve of her ass in her jeans, the way her T-shirt hugged her waist, his dick already half-hard at the sight of her, his mind racing with thoughts of how his stamina would let him take her apart piece by piece, over and over, until she was a trembling mess beneath him.

“I’ve got it,” Isla replied with a playful smile, glancing over her shoulder at him, her eyes glinting with mischief, her dark hair catching the kitchen’s warm light. “Pour us some wine and relax—I’ve got a surprise for you after dinner,” she teased, her voice soft but charged with promise, making Joe’s anticipation spike, his dick throbbing in his jeans. “You’re killin’ me, Isla—better make it quick,” he growled, pouring two glasses of deep red wine, the liquid catching the light like molten rubies, his voice rough with need, his heart pounding with the thought of what was to come, his stamina already fueling his impatience to have her.

Dinner was a slow burn of desire, their attraction a tangible force, every glance a flame, every brush of their fingers a spark that set their skin ablaze. They sat close at the sleek dining table, the creamy pasta dish steaming between them, the scent of garlic and parmesan mingling with the rich aroma of the wine, the distant hum of Atlanta traffic filtering through the windows, a reminder of the city’s pulse outside their intimate bubble. Isla’s mind drifted to her college days, how she’d been so focused on her computer science studies at Georgia Tech, her nights consumed by coding assignments and algorithm design, her determination to build a career in cybersecurity driving her forward. Back then, Joe was a distant legend, his name a whisper on campus, his football highlights occasionally playing in the background of the Clough Commons while she debugged code nearby, her focus unwavering even as her heart fluttered at the thought of the man who’d once dominated the field. She’d allow herself a fleeting daydream—imagining meeting the campus icon who’d graduated long before her time—before diving back into her projects, her ambition always taking the lead. Now, here she was, living a fantasy she’d once thought impossible, sharing a meal with the man who’d been a distant inspiration, their shared history as Tech alums deepening the moment. Joe twirled a forkful of pasta, the creamy sauce clinging to the noodles, and held it up to Isla’s lips, his eyes locked on hers, a playful smirk tugging at his mouth. “Taste it for me, baby—wanna see those pretty lips around this,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, the words dripping with flirtation, making Isla’s cheeks flush, a sharp pulse flaring deep in her belly. She leaned forward, her lips parting as she took the bite, the creamy sauce coating her tongue, a soft moan escaping her as she savored the flavor, her eyes fluttering closed for a moment, the sound making Joe’s dick throb, his heart racing with desire.

“So good, Daddy—you’ve gotta try it,” Isla purred, her voice soft but teasing as she twirled a forkful of pasta, the sauce glistening on the noodles, and held it up to Joe’s mouth, her eyes glinting with mischief, her lips curving into a playful smile. “You’re hackin’ my heart with every bite, baby,” she teased, a nod to her computer science background and her current cybersecurity work, the playful comment making Joe chuckle, his deep laugh sending a shiver through her. Joe leaned in, his lips brushing her fingers as he took the bite, the creamy sauce bursting with flavor on his tongue, the heat of her touch sending a jolt of pleasure through him, his eyes darkening with need. “Fuck, baby—you’re makin’ dinner dangerous,” he growled, his voice rough with desire, the taste of the pasta mingling with the taste of her skin, the intimacy of the moment making his dick strain against his jeans, his anticipation building with every second.

Joe’s expression softened for a moment, a rare vulnerability flickering in his eyes as he set down his fork, his voice quieter, almost hesitant. “You know, Isla, last week’s match… the pressure of bein’ the Tribal Chief, it’s heavy sometimes. Everyone expects me to be unbreakable, but I feel it, you know?” he admitted, his fingers tracing the rim of his wine glass, the confession a glimpse into the man behind the legend. Isla’s heart swelled, her hand reaching across the table to cover his, her touch warm and steady. “You’re more than the Tribal Chief to me, Joe—you’re my safe space, my everything. And if anyone tries to break you, I’ll hack their whole system ‘til they’re begging for mercy,” she said with a playful wink, her computer science expertise and cybersecurity career shining through, her words a mix of support and fierce loyalty that made Joe’s chest tighten with love. “Fuck, baby—you’re my rock,” he murmured, his voice thick with emotion, his hand squeezing hers, the moment deepening their connection, the intimacy of their shared meal a quiet prelude to the fire waiting to ignite.

They continued feeding each other, their movements slow and deliberate, each bite a shared act of intimacy, the creamy sauce a sensual contrast to the heat building between them, their laughter and teasing words a soft counterpoint to the pounding of their hearts, the tension a living thing in the air. Joe’s gaze lingered on Isla’s lips as she sipped her wine, the way her throat moved as she swallowed, the soft curve of her neck a canvas for his mouth, the sight making his dick throb even harder. “You’re too fuckin’ beautiful, baby—I’m dyin’ to taste you,” he growled, his voice low and rough, the words making a sharp pulse flare deep in Isla’s belly, her skin flushing under his attention, the ache between her thighs a desperate throb. “Patience, Daddy—you’ll get everything you want,” she replied, her voice soft but teasing, her eyes locked on his, the promise in her gaze making his heart race, his dick straining against his jeans even more, the intimacy of their shared meal only heightening the fire between them, his stamina ensuring he’d make good on every promise he whispered.

After clearing the dishes, Isla excused herself to “freshen up,” leaving Joe on the couch, the leather cool against his skin, his anticipation a wildfire in his veins, his dick straining against his jeans, the taste of the creamy pasta and Isla’s skin lingering on his tongue, sharp and sweet. She returned a few minutes later, and Joe’s breath caught in his throat, his heart pounding like a war drum. Isla stood in the doorway, wearing his old Georgia Tech football jersey—number 96, the yellow-and-white fabric hanging loose on her smaller frame, the hem brushing the tops of her thighs, the faded letters a testament to his past glory, a symbol of the legacy she’d always admired, the rough texture of the fabric a tactile reminder of their shared history. Beneath it, a black lace lingerie set peeked out—a bra that pushed up her breasts, making them spill over the top, the lace intricate against her skin, a delicate contrast to her curves, and a thong that framed her thick ass, the thin straps digging into her hips, the lace barely covering her pussy, her skin glowing in the soft light of the condo, her curves a vision of temptation, her eyes locked on his, a silent invitation.

“Fuck, Isla—you look like a goddamn dream in my jersey,” Joe growled, his voice thick with lust, his dick hardening instantly as he stood, closing the distance between them in two long strides, his movements predatory, his eyes raking over her body like a man possessed. “You’re Daddy’s perfect girl, huh? Gonna make you feel so fuckin’ good tonight,” he added, his voice a low rumble, the words sending a shiver down her spine, a sharp pulse flaring deep in her belly, knowing his stamina would ensure he’d keep going until she was utterly spent. His hands grabbed her hips, pulling her against him, the hard length of his erection pressing through his jeans, the heat of him searing through her, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, the jersey rough against his palms, the lace of her thong a teasing contrast, the scent of her jasmine perfume mixing with the musk of her arousal, a heady combination that made his head spin. “I love being yours, Daddy—I’ve always wanted this,” Isla moaned softly, her hands sliding up his chest, her nails scraping lightly over his hoodie, the fabric catching on her fingertips, her voice breathy with need, the admission making Joe’s heart race, his dick throbbing with the depth of his desire for her.

He backed her against the kitchen counter, the cool marble pressing against the backs of her thighs, a sharp contrast to the heat of his body, his hands roaming her curves, lifting the jersey to reveal the black lace lingerie, his fingers tracing the edge of her thong, the lace delicate against her skin, before yanking it to the side, teasing her clit with slow, deliberate circles, the pad of his thumb rough against her sensitive bud, the sensation sending a jolt of pleasure through her, her walls fluttering with need, her juices already soaking the lace, the counter slick beneath her. “You’re so fuckin’ wet for me, baby—already drippin’ for Daddy,” Joe growled, his voice rough with desire, the words making a sharp pulse flare deep in Isla’s belly, her thighs trembling with anticipation. “Please, Daddy—I need you so bad,” Isla moaned, her hands gripping the counter, her knuckles whitening, her voice desperate, the ache between her thighs a desperate throb, the scent of her arousal filling the air, a sweet musk that drove Joe wild.

He dropped to his knees, his hands spreading her thighs wide, the muscles in her legs quivering under his touch, his hot breath fanning over her pussy, making her shiver with anticipation, the heat of his gaze searing her skin as he looked up at her, his eyes dark with hunger. “Gonna make you come so hard, baby—gonna taste every fuckin’ drop,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, the words sending a shiver down her spine, her clit pulsing in anticipation. His tongue darted out, licking a slow, deliberate stripe up her slit, the taste of her arousal bursting on his tongue like the sweetest nectar, a low groan rumbling in his chest as he savored her, the vibrations sending shivers through her body, her clit pulsing under his touch. “Fuck, you taste like heaven, Isla—sweeter than any win in the ring,” he growled, his voice muffled against her, the praise tying his wrestling persona to their intimacy, making her heart race, her walls fluttering with need.

He sucked her clit into his mouth, his lips wrapping around the sensitive bud, his tongue flicking it in a slow, torturous rhythm, the wet sounds of his mouth on her pussy filling the kitchen, a symphony of desire that mingled with her desperate moans, the counter cold against her ass, the jersey slipping off one shoulder, revealing the black lace bra, her breasts heaving with every ragged breath, the lace stretched tight across her skin, her nipples hard against the fabric. “Joe, fuck—oh my God, that feels incredible!” Isla cried, her voice raw, her thighs trembling as he worked her, his tongue relentless, his hands holding her hips to keep her in place, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, leaving faint marks that made her feel claimed, desired. His tongue dipped inside her, tasting her deeper, the wet heat of her pussy enveloping his tongue, the slickness of her arousal coating his lips, his chin, the taste of her driving him to the edge, his dick throbbing in his jeans, the pressure almost painful.

His fingers slid inside her, curling against that spot that made her vision blur, the stretch of his thick fingers making her walls flutter, the burn of it sending a wave of pleasure through her, her juices dripping down his hand, the counter slick beneath her, the scent of her arousal overwhelming, a heady mix that made his head spin. “You’re so tight, baby—gonna make you squirt for Daddy, aren’t you?” he growled, his voice rough with need, the words making a sharp pulse flare deep in Isla’s belly, her body trembling on the edge. “Yes, Daddy—please, I’m so close!” she pleaded, her voice desperate, the pressure in her core building to a breaking point, her thighs quaking with the intensity of the pleasure.

He worked her slowly, his tongue circling her clit faster, his fingers pumping in and out, the wet squelching sounds driving her wild, her thighs trembling, her core tightening with every flick of his tongue, every thrust of his fingers, the pleasure building to a breaking point, her body trembling on the edge. Isla’s orgasm hit her like a tidal wave, her walls fluttering around his fingers, her juices squirting out in a gush, soaking Joe’s face, dripping down his chin and onto his chest, the wet heat of her release making a mess of the counter beneath her, the marble slick with her cum, the scent of her arousal a testament to the intensity of her climax. “Fuck, yes, baby—that’s it, squirt for Daddy,” Joe groaned, pulling back to watch her, his lips glistening with her cum, his eyes dark with hunger as he licked his lips, drinking in every drop, his voice raw with need.

Her body shook, her thighs quaking with aftershocks, her hands gripping the counter as she rode out the waves of pleasure, the sensation so intense she felt tears spill down her cheeks, her clit pulsing with aftershocks, her voice a broken sob as she moaned, “Daddy, fuck—it’s too much!” Joe stood, his chest slick with her juices, his dick rock-hard in his jeans, the pressure unbearable as he stripped them off, his massive length springing free, the head swollen and leaking precum, veins bulging along the shaft, the sight making a sharp pulse flare deep in Isla’s belly, her core aching to be filled, her body trembling with need. “You ready for me, baby? Ready for Daddy to fill you up?” he growled, his voice rough with desire, the words making her walls flutter, her arousal dripping down her thighs. “Please, Daddy—I need you inside me, need you to fuck me,” Isla pleaded, her voice desperate, her hands reaching for him, her body aching for his touch, knowing his stamina would push her to her limits.

He teased her with the head of his dick, rubbing it against her clit, the wet heat of her pussy making him groan, the sensation of her slickness against his sensitive tip sending a jolt of pleasure through him, his balls tightening, his heart pounding with the need to be inside her. “Fuck, baby—you’re so ready for me, so fuckin’ perfect,” he growled, his voice a low rumble, the praise making Isla’s heart race, a sharp pulse flaring deep in her belly. He pushed into her slowly, stretching her tight pussy around his girth, the burn of the stretch making Isla gasp, her nails digging into his shoulders, the pain mixing with pleasure as her walls adjusted to his size, the fullness of him overwhelming, her inner muscles quivering around him, the heat of her body searing through him. “Daddy, fuck—you’re so big, it’s so much!” she cried, her voice breaking, the sensation of his thick length filling her driving her to the edge, her heart racing with the depth of her love for him.

Joe groaned, his hands gripping her hips, his fingers leaving faint bruises as he started moving, his movements slow and deliberate, savoring every inch of her, the counter creaking beneath them, the cool marble a sharp contrast to the heat of their bodies, the jersey rough against his skin, the lace of her bra teasing his chest. “You feel incredible, baby—so tight for Daddy,” he growled, his voice rough with desire, the words making Isla’s walls flutter, the pleasure building with every slow, deep thrust. Each thrust was deliberate, his dick hitting that spot inside her that made her see stars, the pressure building in her core, her juices dripping down his thighs, the counter slick beneath her, the scent of their arousal a heady mix that filled the air, the slow drag of his dick against her walls sending waves of pleasure through her, the friction making her clit pulse, her body trembling with the intensity of it, her heart racing with the depth of her love for him.

“You’re takin’ Daddy’s spear so good, Isla—look at you, my perfect girl,” he growled, his voice a low rumble, referencing his signature wrestling move, the words tying his Tribal Chief persona to their intimacy, his eyes locked on hers, watching every flicker of pleasure on her face, her lips parted, her cheeks flushed, the raw attraction between them a living flame. “Daddy, fuck—it’s so good, don’t stop!” Isla moaned, her voice raw, her thighs quaking as the pleasure built, her inner muscles quivering around him, the sensation of his thick length stretching her, filling her, driving her to the edge, her body trembling with need. He turned her over, her breasts pressing against the counter, the cool marble a shock against her heated skin, her ass raised, the jersey hiked up around her waist, her thong pulled down to her thighs, the lace stretched tight against her skin.

He entered her from behind, the angle allowing him to go even deeper, her pussy stretching around him, the burn making her sob, the sensation of his dick hitting that spot inside her making her vision blur, her ass jiggling with every movement, the counter slick with her juices, the scent of their arousal overwhelming, the roughness of his thrusts making her body tremble with need, the jersey a reminder of their shared history, the lace of her thong digging into her thighs, the sensation of his hands on her hips, his fingers digging into her soft flesh, leaving faint bruises, making her feel claimed, desired. “Fuck, Isla—your ass looks so good like this, bouncin’ for Daddy,” he growled, smacking her ass, the sound echoing in the condo, the sting making her moan louder, her walls fluttering around him, the roughness making her body tremble with need. “Daddy, fuck—I’m so close again, please let me come!” Isla pleaded, her voice breaking, the pressure in her core building to a breaking point, her body trembling on the edge.

“Hold on, baby—Daddy’s gonna make you come so hard,” he growled, his voice rough with need, the words making Isla’s heart race, her clit pulsing with anticipation. He moved slowly, drawing out the pleasure, the slow drag of his dick against her walls sending waves of pleasure through her, the friction making her clit pulse, the pressure in her core building to a breaking point, her body trembling on the edge. Isla’s orgasm hit her hard, her inner muscles quivering around him, her juices gushing as she came, the wet heat soaking the counter, her body trembling, her voice a broken sob, “Daddy, yes!” the pleasure so intense she felt her entire body ignite, her heart pounding with the depth of her love for him.

Joe moved through her orgasm, his thrusts slow and deep, drawing out her pleasure, a low growl rumbling in his chest, “That’s it, baby—come for Daddy, let me feel you,” his voice raw with need, his dick throbbing inside her, the pressure in his balls building, his heart pounding with the depth of his desire for her. His stamina, honed from years of dominating in the wrestling ring, kept him going, his movements relentless as he pushed her through her climax, his own need building but his control unwavering, determined to make her come again before he let himself go. He carried her to the bedroom, the transition swift as he laid her on the king-sized bed, the white sheets cool against her heated skin, the Atlanta skyline glittering through the floor-to-ceiling windows, a silent witness to their passion. “I’m not done with you yet, baby—gonna love you even more,” he murmured, his voice a low rumble, the promise making a sharp pulse flare deep in Isla’s belly, her body trembling with anticipation, knowing his stamina meant he could keep going for hours if he wanted to.

He pressed her against the floor-to-ceiling windows, the cool glass a sharp contrast to the heat of their bodies, the smooth surface fogging with her breath as she moaned, the city lights casting a soft glow on their intertwined forms, the distant hum of Atlanta traffic a faint reminder of the world beyond their bubble. “Look at the city watchin’ us, baby—everyone down there wishin’ they were me,” he growled, his voice rough with desire, the voyeuristic thrill making Isla’s walls flutter, the sensation of his dick hitting that spot inside her making her vision blur, her breasts pressed against the glass, the jersey slipping down her back, revealing the black lace bra, the fabric stretched tight across her breasts. “Daddy, fuck—it’s so intense, I can’t—” Isla sobbed, her voice raw, the pleasure overwhelming her, her body trembling with the intensity of it, the city below a glittering witness to their passion.

“You’re relentless, Daddy—just like in the ring!” Isla moaned, her voice breathy, the comment tying Joe’s stamina to his wrestling persona, making him growl with pride, his thrusts deep and controlled, his body showing no signs of slowing down even after pushing Isla through multiple orgasms, his wrestling-honed endurance making him a relentless lover, determined to give her every ounce of pleasure she could take. He pulled out briefly, turning her to face him, his eyes locked on hers, the love and desire in his gaze making her heart race, the heat of their connection burning through every touch. “You’re my fuckin’ everything, Isla—I love you so much,” he growled, his voice rough with emotion, his hands sliding up to cup her face, his thumbs brushing her cheeks, the tenderness in his touch making her heart swell, her voice soft but intense as she moaned, “I love you too, Daddy—I’m yours, forever.”

He carried her to the bathroom, the steam from the hot shower already filling the air, the scent of lavender body wash mingling with their arousal, the soft patter of the water a soothing backdrop as he set her down, the jersey still clinging to her sweaty skin. “Time to get you clean, baby—but Daddy’s gonna make you dirty again,” he growled, his voice a low rumble, the promise making a sharp pulse flare deep in Isla’s belly, her body trembling with anticipation. He tugged the jersey off her, using the faded fabric to tie her hands behind her back, the rough material biting into her wrists, the light bondage adding a thrilling edge as he pinned her against the shower wall, the hot water cascading down their bodies, steam enveloping them in a warm cocoon. “You’re mine to take, baby—Daddy’s jersey looks better like this,” he growled, his voice rough with desire, the words making Isla’s walls flutter, her body trembling with need.

He entered her again, the angle allowing him to go even deeper, her pussy stretching around him, the burn making her sob, the sensation of his dick hitting that spot inside her making her vision blur, her juices mixing with the water, the shower floor slick beneath them, the steam amplifying the scent of their arousal, the roughness of his thrusts making her body tremble with need, the jersey binding her wrists a reminder of their shared history, the lace of her bra teasing her skin, the hot water adding a new sensory layer that made every touch feel electric. “Daddy, fuck—I’m gonna come again!” Isla sobbed, her voice raw, the pleasure overwhelming her, her body trembling on the edge, the relentless pace of Joe’s thrusts pushing her to her limits, his stamina ensuring he could keep her on the edge as long as he wanted.

“Hold on, baby—Daddy wants to feel you come with me,” he growled, his voice a low rumble, the words making Isla’s heart race, her clit pulsing with anticipation. He untied her hands, turning her to face him, her legs spread wide, her pussy glistening with her cum, the water soaking them both, the jersey discarded on the shower floor, her breasts heaving with every ragged breath. He entered her again, lifting her legs over his shoulders, the angle allowing him to go even deeper, her pussy stretching around him, the burn making her sob, the sensation of his dick hitting that spot inside her making her vision blur, her juices dripping down his thighs, the shower a mess beneath them, the slow drag of his dick against her walls sending waves of pleasure through her, the friction making her clit pulse, the pressure in her core building to a breaking point, her body trembling on the edge, his eyes locked on hers, the love and desire in his gaze making her heart race, the heat of their connection burning through every touch.

Isla’s hands gripped his shoulders, her nails digging into his skin, her voice raw with desperation as she felt the telltale signs of Joe’s impending release—his thrusts growing erratic, his dick pulsing inside her, his breaths coming in ragged gasps. Sensing his need for acknowledgment as the Tribal Chief, she locked eyes with him, her voice a desperate, reverent whisper, “Acknowledge me as yours, Daddy—my Tribal Chief deserves it!” Her words echoed his WWE persona’s commanding catchphrase, a powerful nod to his dominance in the ring and in their intimacy, her walls fluttering around him in submission, the acknowledgment pushing Joe to the brink, his heart pounding with the intensity of her words, the heat of her reverence amplifying his pleasure. Joe’s eyes darkened, her acknowledgment shattering his control after holding back for so long, his stamina giving way to the overwhelming need to release. “Fuck, baby—you’re mine, always,” he groaned, his voice rough with need as he came hard, his dick pulsing violently inside her, his hot cum filling her up in thick, forceful spurts, dripping down her thighs as he moved through his orgasm, the intensity heightened by Isla’s acknowledgment, his thrusts slow and deep, his cum mixing with her juices and the water, the shower floor slick beneath them, the sensation of his release making her walls flutter, her own orgasm hitting her at the same time, her juices gushing as she came, the wet heat soaking them both, her body trembling, her voice a broken sob, “Daddy, yes—I love you!” the pleasure so intense she felt her entire body ignite, her heart pounding with the depth of her love for him.

Joe gently pulled out, his cum dripping from her pussy, the shower floor a mess with their combined juices, the water washing away the evidence of their passion as he pulled her into his arms, their bodies slick with sweat and water, their breathing heavy, the steam a warm cocoon around them. Even after such an intense session, Joe’s stamina was evident in the way his hands still roamed her body, his touch possessive and hungry, as if he could go another round without breaking a sweat, a testament to the endurance that made him a legend in the ring and an unstoppable force in bed. Isla nestled against his chest, her fingers tracing the tattoos on his arm, her voice soft as she murmured, “I’ve got a big deadline at work next week—some new encryption project. But nights like this… they make everything worth it.” Joe kissed the top of her head, his voice a low rumble as he replied, “You’re gonna kill it, baby—just like you do with me.” He paused, his gaze drifting to the jersey on the shower floor, a soft smile tugging at his lips. “Today at the game… seein’ you cheer in the stands, wearin’ my colors—it felt like a full-circle moment, you know? Like I was back on that field, but this time, I had you.” His words tied their intimacy to the shared joy of the game-day victory, a final emotional beat that left a warm, lingering glow, the Atlanta skyline still glittering through the window, a silent witness to their love. “I can’t wait for more days like this, Daddy—I’m yours to love,” Isla whispered, her voice charged with desire and devotion, her heart swelling with the depth of her love for him. They stood there, tangled in each other, the afterglow a warm cocoon around them, their attraction still simmering beneath the surface, the roughness of their encounter balanced by the love in their touches, their breaths mingling as they held each other close, the jersey a symbol of their shared history, the lace of her lingerie a reminder of the fire between them, the soft patter of the shower a soothing lullaby to their perfect night.

Can’t get enough of Joe and Isla’s fiery romance? 🔥💛 Their journey continues in my book series Open Arms, packed with more steamy moments, heartfelt connections, and the love story you’ll be obsessed with! Dive into the full series on my masterlist here. Want to stay updated on their story? Comment below or message me to be added to the Open Arms taglist—I’d love to have you along for the ride! 💖