#anyone else wanna weigh in?

[smoky-impressions]

ooooh! potentially! you have taught me a thing today. looking at photos for comparison, the neck looks short and stubby from this angle (could be the angle though), but the beak is not quite as snubby as the other cackling geese pics... i will keep an eye out in the local flocks i see from now for these guys now that i know! thanks! :)

today’s bird is this family of canada geese with TEN babies!

[twofoursixohjuan]

For fanfiction reasons, would you happen to know if there's ever been an official map of Hallasholm in any of Flanagan's books? I could swear I've seen a map of Hallasholm somewhere, but I don't remember if it was something official or fanmade. I've checked my Brotherband books, but they only have the larger map of the different countries.

I don't think there is one? I recall a map of Skandia and surrounding countries, (which I should totally check before writing because I get the sinking feeling I keep having them sail the wrong way) but I don't recall a map of Hallasholm itself.

[theinsanecrayonbox]

trying to play “who’s that sabretooth” with the last page of #4 and i’m really not recognizing any of them. maybe there’s the clone from xmen forever, and maybe there’s the “what if miles was wolverine” one (who is not a victor creed btw), and of course there’s a child version, but none of the others are really identifiable. on the one hand, that means AoA isn’t there (probably), but on the other are any of these real or just made up...and would that be actually bad

[cyberesc]

BELLYACHE. (PART 1)

pairing: Prohero!kiribaku × Prohero!Reader

synopsis: You were in love with your best friends but were certain they didn't feel the same as they feel for each other, so you did what anyone would do, in an attempt to save yourself from heartbreak, you disappeared from Japan back to your home country after graduation, leaving everyone behind.

+*. • contains angst, slight jealousy (?), reader is a foreign exchange student, krbk and reader are bestfriends, misunderstandings, krbk aren't in an established relationship, required unrequited love, reader runs from their problems, eventual happy ending (poly)

note: this was sitting in my drafts for so long, this series will probably have a max of 3 parts depending on how much angst I wanna cut or include🤭

part 2 | part 3

The halls of U.A. felt more like home than ever, and yet, it was bittersweet. You walked alongside Bakugo and Kirishima, their banter filling the air. Bakugo's gruff voice mixed with Kirishima's hearty laughter—sounds that had become a constant in your life over the past three years. But today, you felt a little distant, not quite part of the trio, more like a shadow trailing behind them.

You glanced at them for a moment, catching the playful glint in Bakugo's eye as he shoved Kirishima's shoulder at a lame joke, and Kirishima's sharp smile that only widened in response. It was a scene you'd grown to love—too much, in fact. A sigh escaped your lips before you could stop it.

I never stood a chance.

That thought had been a whisper in the back of your mind for months, but now, with graduation approaching, it was louder than ever. You saw the way they looked at each other—the subtle glances, the easy smiles, the unspoken understanding that passed between them. It was clear they had something special, a bond that went beyond friendship. And you? You were just a person who couldn't hold a candle to either of them, never quite on the same level.

Bakugo and Kirishima had always had a connection that you could never quite breach, and you've finally accepted that you never would. They understood each other in a way that left you feeling like an outsider, even though you were their bestfriend. But that was all you were, wasn't it?

Bakugo and Kirishima couldn't help but notice the subtle shift in your demeanor. They didn't speak of it, but the thought was there, nagging at the back of their minds like an itch they couldn't scratch. You were a crucial part of their world, a balance to their intense, chaotic energy, and the thought of losing that balance even just a little bothered them more than they'd care to admit. There were feelings that neither of them dared to acknowledge, let alone act on.

Back when you transferred during the first year of U.A, the odds were stacked against you. As a foreign student coming into U.A, you knew you'd have to work harder than anyone else to prove that you belonged there. The language barrier, the cultural differences and the high standards of a prestigious school-all weighed heavily on your shoulders. But you were determined.

From the moment you set foot on the campus, you heard the whispers and curious glances of the other students, but they didn't faze you. Instead, they fueled you. You had to be better, faster, stronger—there was no room for doubt.

Your first encounter with Bakugo happened during combat training as you've been randomly paired up together by Aizawa. You heard what people said about him—about his explosive temper. But you didn't back down, much like you, he fought with the drive to be the best of the best.

The battle was fierce, both of you pushing each other to your limits. Before any of you could push yourselves too far, you were separated with Aizawa's capture scarf. After assessing your fight, it was deemed a stalemate, both of you breathless and covered in sweat. Disappointed with your loss, you felt something shift after your fight. While he didn't want to acknowledge it, Bakugo saw you as someone who could match his fire. From then on, there was a mutual respect between you, even if neither of you said it out loud.

Your encounter with Kirishima went much differently. It was during a late-night study session in the library, weeks after your transfer. You had been struggling with a particularly difficult concept, frustration and anxiety bubbling as time seemed to run closer and closer toward the third exam. Kirishima noticed and without a second thought, pulled up a chair beside you, offering his help with an easy smile. He was to your surprise, pretty patient, explaining things in a way that made everything click. The day after getting back your score on the exam, you gave him snacks from your home country as a thank you gift. That night, not only did you learn about the subject matter—you learned that Kirishima had a heart as solid as the walls he could create with his Quirk. From then on, he made it his mission to include you in everything, making sure you never felt out of place.

From then on, the three of you formed a bond that felt unbreakable.They both came to care for you as one of their best friends, and over time, you started to realize that they were more than just people in your pursuit to prove yourself—they were the people you trusted most.

They understood your struggles and admired the strength it took for you to come this far. Through countless training, late-night study sessions, and quiet moments together, they became more than just classmates-they became your best friends. And you, in turn, became theirs.

Your feelings for Bakugo and Kirishima didn't happen all at once. It was a slow, gradual process. At first, you admired them for their strengths but over time, something shifted. The admiration you felt for them started to evolve into something deeper, something that went beyond friendship.

It was in the small moments that your feelings began to grow. Each moment became more meaningful, and you found yourself looking forward to them, craving their presence in a way that made your heart race.

But it wasn't until an overwhelming sense of doubt started to gnaw at the back of your mind. They were your best friends, you knew how much they value their friendship, not just with you but with each other. The bond you all had was precious and the thought of disrupting your dynamic terrified you. The last thing you wanted was to be the reason for any tension or division.

You had seen firsthand how strong their connection was with each other, how they complement one another in ways that seemed effortless. They had a bond that you feared you could never fully understand or be a part of. So, you buried your feelings, convincing yourself that it was for the best.

It was better to remain their friend than to risk everything for something you knew was impossible.

Graduation day came and went in a blur. While saying your goodbyes to your classmates, you were stopped by Bakugo and Kirishima who had asked you what agency you were joining, both of them waiting for your answer in anticipation, wondering if you'd all fight alongside each other. Your chest tightened painfully as you dodged the question.

You were transferring back to your home country.

The decision was made before your enrollment at U.A. As they looked at you, faces filled with pride after surviving not only high school, but one of the top hero schools in the country (not to mention fighting a literal war before the end of their freshman year). You couldn't bear to tell them the truth-not when they looked at you with warm smiles that made you wish things could be different.

Instead, you left quietly. You'd already packed your things, already arranged your transfer. You didn't even say goodbye in person, just left a message that you were heading back home. It was a wimp's way out, you knew that. You'd always prided yourself on facing challenges head-on, but the thought of telling them you were leaving, telling them you might never see them again—that was a challenge you couldn't handle.

You stared at the message on your phone, fingers trembling as they hovered over the 'send' button. Once you pressed it, that would be it, no turning back.

You took a deep breath, forcing yourself to be brave and hit 'send': The message was short, deliberately vague, because you couldn't write what you really felt.

I'm heading back home. I'll miss you guys. Thank you for everything. - Y/N

For a moment, you stared at the screen, half-hoping they would reply instantly, asking for more details, demanding an explanation. But the minutes ticked by with no response. Maybe they were busy celebrating, caught up in the excitement of graduation. Or maybe they just didn't care.

You sighed, sliding your phone into your pocket. It was better this way. Easier for them, easier for you.

No messy goodbyes, no tears. Just a clean break.

As you walked away from the school grounds for the last time, from the second place you've called home, you couldn't help but glance back over your shoulder. The massive gates of U.A. loomed behind you, a symbol of everything you were leaving behind.

But you had to keep moving forward. And as painful as it was, you knew you were making the right choice. Still, as the plane took off, lifting you away from the life you'd built, you allowed yourself one final, quiet thought:

I'II always love you both.

Life hit you fast, in the weeks that passed after leaving Japan, you kept busy; getting hired as a rookie at your city's agency, diving into missions, and patrolling the familiar streets from your childhood.

It kept your mind occupied, the stray feelings of homesickness that quietly built up as you left your home to follow your dreams lifted. You were back to the city and its people you grew up with, back to your old roots, to your first home, whom you swore to protect.

But it didn't stop you from missing them. The longing gnawed at you in quiet moments, the ache of being apart from the people who meant the most to you.

Your silence didn't go unnoticed, your old circle of friends, including Kirishima and Bakugo reached out often—texts, calls, voice messages. You knew they were angry that you left, especially without a proper goodbye, but leaving without anyone holding you back was the best choice you could've made.

Ironically the guilt of abandoning your friends slowly pushed you from any sort of contact. You replied at first, brief responses. But slowly, you began to pull back, letting the messages go unread, letting the calls ring out. It hurt too much to hear their voices, to pretend everything was fine when it wasn't.

It wasn't long before you were ghosting them completely, blaming it under the false pretense of a busy work schedule.

Months passed. The guilt of avoiding them weighed heavily on you, but it felt necessary to protect your heart. You threw yourself into your work. You were a rookie after all, and you were determined to make a name for yourself, no matter how slowly you climbed up the ranks, hoping that someday, the ache would lessen.

One day, you received an email for a mission briefing in Tokyo—a high-profile case, something about an undercover mission that required cooperation between multiple agencies. They asked for you and your senior to attend. You weren't expecting anything as you took a plane back to Japan, the city was so large, you didn't think of the possibility of running into your old friends.

Once you arrived, you checked in with your assistant, receiving a tablet with the mission files and your hero badge for easier introduction among the agencies.

As you walked into the conference room, your eyes wandered around the room, taking note of who attended. Your heart stopped the moment your eyes landed on familiar ash-blonde hair.

Bakugo's eyes locked onto you the second you stepped into the room, a mixture of surprise and something unreadable in his gaze. You averted your eyes quickly, your heart pounding in your chest. Of all the people you could have run into, of course it had to be them.

Kirishima arrived a few minutes later, Tamaki and Mirio chatting alongside him. When Kirishima caught your gaze, his face lit up with a grin, waving in your direction. You managed a strained smile, nodding in acknowledgment, but didn't trust yourself to speak.

Bakugo was staring at you intently, his gaze never wavering. You could feel the weight of his scrutiny, and it made your skin prickle.

The beeping of a timer indicating the start of the meeting silenced the room. Your hero partner and assistant took the vacant spots on either side of you and you couldn't help but imagine if you didn't leave, maybe you would have been assigned this mission together.

The meeting felt like it dragged on forever. You avoided looking in the direction of either of them, keeping your focus on the mission briefing. When a break was finally called, you stepped out for air, heading for the rooftop to clear your head.

The city stretched out before you as you leaned against the ledge, the familiar sights and sounds of traffic below grounding you. You closed your eyes, breathing in the crisp air, trying to steady your racing heart.

"You've been avoiding us."

Bakugo's voice cut through the quiet, and you stiffened, your eyes snapping open. You hadn't even heard him approach.

"I've been busy." you replied after a moment, keeping your tone as neutral as possible.

"That's bullshit, and you know it."

You sighed, running a hand through your hair, but didn't turn to face him. *What do you want me to say, Bakugo?"

"The truth would be nice," he said, stepping closer until he was beside you, his eyes locked on your face.

You bit your lip, refusing to meet his gaze. You knew he could see right through you, and you hated it. You hated how vulnerable he made you feel, how just a look from him could unravel all the defenses you'd so carefully built.

"There's nothing to say." you muttered, trying to sidestep the conversation, hoping he would drop it.

"Bullshit." Bakugo repeated, his voice sharp but tinged with worry. He wasn't one to back down easily, and you knew that if you stayed there any longer, he'd pry the truth out of you. "You've been avoiding us for months. You don't just drop out of our lives without a damn good reason."

You could feel the frustration rolling off him in waves, but you kept your back to him, staring out at the city below. "I told you. I've been busy. New city, new job—“

"Cut the crap." Bakugo interrupted, his voice low. He took a step closer, his presence overwhelming.

"You've never run from anything. So what the hell is really going on?"

The words you'd been holding back for so long clawed at your throat, but you couldn't let them out.

You couldn't face the possibility that admitting your feelings would ruin everything—whatever was left, anyway.

You thought about the consequences of spilling your feelings. If you said what you really felt right now, what's the guarantee that it wouldn't affect the mission? If your feelings aren't reciprocated, and Bakugo tells Kirishima about your conversation, where would that put you? You couldn't afford to put yourself in that position, risking your focus and letting your team down. They had each other, and you had... well, you had yourself.

You shook your head at your thoughts, forcing a neutral tone. "It doesn't matter. Let's just get back to the meeting."

Before Bakugo could protest, you walked away, your hurried steps putting distance between you and the conversation you weren't ready to have. You knew Bakugo wasn't convinced, but you hoped he'd at least drop it for now. If he kept pressing, you didn't know if you'd be able to hold it together.

The meeting wrapped up eventually, and you made sure to slip out before either Bakugo or Kirishima could catch up with you. Knowing Bakugo, he most likely already told Kirishima about your conversation on the rooftop and you couldn't handle another confrontation, not after the last had left you feeling so raw. You needed time to think, time to steel yourself for the upcoming mission.

You stayed at one of your agency's temporary apartments, the busy life of Tokyo echoing in the night. You tried to distract yourself with preparations, going over the mission details again and again. But your thoughts kept drifting back to Bakugo, to the look in his eyes when he'd confronted you, to the way Kirishima had smiled at you in the conference room like nothing had changed.

A few days before the mission, you headed to the support department to pick up your upgraded stealth suit. The techs had been working on integrating some new enhancements to better suit your Quirk, and you were eager to see how it had turned out. You slipped into the fitting room and pulled on the suit, testing the fit and flexibility. It was perfect, as expected, and you felt a small sense of satisfaction at the way it hugged your form.

As you stepped out of the fitting room, you nearly collided with someone standing just outside. You looked up to find Sero grinning down at you, his usual easygoing smile stretching wide across his face.

"Yo, Y/N! Long time no see," he greeted, giving you a playful nudge.

You couldn't help but smile back. "Hey, Hanta. What are you doing here?"

"Just picking up some adjustments on my gear. Looks like you got some upgrades too," he said, eyeing your new suit with approval.

"Yeah, just some minor tweaks." you replied, flexing your hands and feeling the fabric move with you.

Sero tilted his head, studying you for a moment. "You've been pretty quiet lately. Haven't seen you in the group chat for a while."

You tensed, the familiar guilt creeping in. "Uh, just been busy."

"Uh-huh," Sero said, not buying your excuse. He didn't push, though, just smiled and clapped a hand on your shoulder. *How about we catch up over some drinks? It's been ages since we hung out?"

You hesitated for a moment before nodding. "Yeah, I'd like that."

The bar was comfortably noisy, filled with the hum of conversations and the clinking of glasses. You and Sero found a booth in the corner, beers in hand, and settled in to catch up. It felt good to relax a bit, to be in the company of someone who wasn't pushing you for answers you didn't want to give.

"So." Sero began after a sip of his beer, "you gonna tell me why you've been MIA? Or do I have to guess?"

You sighed, knowing he wouldn't let it go. "It's complicated, Hanta."

"Complicated how?" he asked, leaning back in his seat. "Does it have anything to do with a certain explosive blonde and a red-haired tank?"

You winced, "What makes you say that?"

"Just a hunch." he replied with a shrug. "Plus, Kirishima's been worried sick about you, and Bakugo's been, well...Bakugo, but more pissed than usual."

You frowned, your gaze dropping to the table. "I didn't mean to worry them. I just...I didn't know how to handle it."

"Handle what?" Sero pressed gently.

You took a deep breath, the words catching in your throat before you finally let them out. "I...I kinda have feelings for both of them. And I thought...I thought it would be easier to just distance myself. To let them be together without me getting in the way." Sero's eyes widened slightly, but he didn't look surprised.

"So, you just decided to ghost them? Leave the country without talking to them first?"

"It was stupid, I know," you admitted, frustration with yourself seeping into your voice. "But I didn't think they'd understand…I just didn't want to mess up our friendship."

Sero was quiet for a moment, then he sighed, a small smile playing on his lips. "Y/N, you're way too hard on yourself, you know that? They care about you a lot. And I don't think you're giving them enough credit."

You glanced up at him, searching his face for any sign of judgment, but found none. "What are you saying?"

"I'm saying that maybe you should stop running and start talking to them." Sero said simply. "You never know what might happen if you're honest about how you feel. And sure, Kirishima and Bakugo have been pretty close, but lately, there's been talk... you know, around the agency."

"Talk?" you asked, curiosity piqued.

"Nothing bad, just...people have noticed that those two seem kinda distracted. And it's not just because of each other, if you catch my drift." Sero said with a knowing look.

You blinked, your heart skipping a beat. Could it be possible that...?

"No fucking way" you muttered, shaking your head. "They look so happy together. They don't need me complicating things."

"Y/N." Sero said, his voice firm, "You don't complicate anything. You're part of their lives—whether you like it or not. And maybe, you're part of something bigger than you realize."

You fell silent, Sero's words echoing in your mind as you silently sipped your beer. Could he be right? Was there more to their relationship than you'd assumed? And if so, where did that leave you?

The conversation drifted after that, Sero taking your mind off things by sharing stories about the others, filling you in on the latest gossip from your old circle of friends. By the time you parted ways, your heart felt a little lighter, the dread that had been hanging over you for weeks starting to lift.

© property of cyberesc 2024. please refrain from plagiarizing any of my works and do not repost/edit/translate/copy onto any other sites.

[kinnersonne]

I think, too, that something to do with it is our own power relative to the situation. You hear your friend’s having a bad day? You can cheer them up somehow. You hear the widow in your village has taken ill? You can drop off a meal or make her some tea. You still got bad news, but it was small and local enough that you could do something about it. These days everything is a catastrophe and the best we can do about it is idk. Reblog to spread awareness. Donate $4.75 to the cause. But what is that really doing? We don’t get to know. People are suffering in every country all the time and we just have to Know That and carry on with our 9-5 jobs and doomscrolling

I don’t know how to say this in a way that doesn’t come across as incredibly out of touch and privileged but I don’t think the human brain was meant to receive so much bad news. The spread of news has always been limited by what can reach you and for thousands of years that usually meant the happenings in your village and maybe the surrounding villages. A few times a year you might receive word about the goings on in cities, maybe even distant lands. Occasionally war would break out which would increase bad news but, even then, unless the fighting was in your area, the news about the war would be a trickle—still devastating, but not as aggressive a bombardment. Now, with the invention of newspapers, wire communication, radio, television, internet, social media, click bait, traffic-driven ad revenue you receive every bit of bad news, from everywhere, all the time. We no longer live in a world where our bad news is local, mostly manageable, and only occasionally intensified. There is only bad news. I don’t think we were built for it.

[whoreforsexymen]

This might be kind a kind of crazy request but hear me out, but feel free to ignore if your uncomfortable. So it's Jace Talis x reader SFW but it aludes to smut. Basicaly jayce wants to gets freaky with his girl or guy or whatever, but Jayce want to watch victor get freaky with the reader, Jayce's partner. I don't want to see any smut, but I just want to see the conversation go down between Jayce and Victor, of Jayce asking Victor if we would like to smash his partner and watch them lol.

Your wish is my command, darling. Sit back and let Mommy do her thing 🤍 (Also, tagging this as NSFW since it uses strong language, and heavily eludes to is directly about cucking.)

Jayce asking you to cuck him w/ Viktor | Flash

Pairings: Jayce Talis x Reader x Viktor

Pronouns: None used for Reader. Can be read as GN!!

Rating: NSFW, 18+ MDNI !!!!!

Word Count: 447

Tags: Cuckholding, Implied M/M (if you squint), Heavy implications of sex (duh), maybe slight OOC Jayce (also, if you squint), slight Sub!Jayce (if you REALLY REALLY SQUINT)

Notes: I have yet to watch S2 because I already can’t handle the heartbreak I know is waiting around the corner for me. So this is written with S1 Viktor and Jayce!!

Also, my first request!!! EEEE!! I hope you like it!! I wrote this so fast cause I was so excited and had nothing else to do hehehe xo

I ALSO KNOW YOU ASKED FOR THE CONVO TO BE BETWEEN VIKTOR AND JAYCE— WHICH ILL DO SOON, TOO, AS A PART 2!! But I liked this idea better ansjdkdkskkkkk for now!!

“…What?” You ask, bewildered.

“I know— I know it’s a weird request. But. I don’t know. I just think it would be hot to watch you… y’know… get fucked by someone else. And— I mean. It’s not like there’s anyone I trust more than Viktor—“ Jayce spoke quickly, a hint of embarrassment lacing his words as he let out a nervous chuckle, his fidgeting betraying his best efforts to exude a calm facade.

He swallowed tightly, his nerves making him feel exposed and helpless, like a child left alone in the dark.

“So. Let me get this straight. I just want to make sure I’m hearing you right. You want Me— And— Viktor, to fuck… While you watch?” You ask plainly.

Jayce swallowed once more, his nerves spiraling as he struggled to hold himself together.

“That is what I said… yes.” He mutters, scratching the back of his neck.

You stare at him, dumbfounded. The idea itself doesn’t catch you off guard—not really. In fact, it stirs something exciting within you. It’s a little unconventional, sure, but you’re not opposed to exploring what could lie ahead for your sex life with Jayce. You might enjoy letting him take the lead most of the time, but there’s something about the way he’s dancing around this topic in particular— too nervous to be bold—that sparks a fire in your gut.

“Hmm.” You hum softly, a hint of a smirk tugging at the corner of your mouth.

“Is it just because you wanna see your boyfriend naked~?” You tease, your hands resting lightly on his chest as you look up at him, your gaze heavy with playfulness, smoldering as always.

Jayce stammers harder than before.

“I- wh- No. Pfft. It’s just- I just-..” He can’t even continue his stammering before you kiss him. It was a soft and chaste one, yet needy in its own way, and above all—understanding.

After several long seconds, once you sense his nerves start to settle, you slowly pull away, the tension lingering in the space between you.

“We can do that.” You say softly, giving him one extra peck to the lips.

“Really?” He queries, unsure of if you’re being truthful.

You emit a gentle chuckle.

“Yes, my love… I’m open to it.” You explain, running your hands along his chest… Over his vest… and down the length of his tie. You felt him shudder beneath your wandering hands.

“Why don’t you ask Viktor, and if he’s open to it, we can try… let’s see… tonight, hmm?” You ask, leaning in and nibbling his ear ever so teasingly.

After a long pause, Jayce finally speaks again, his voice quieter now, as if weighing his words more carefully.

“I already asked him. He said yes.”

[two-calicos-in-a-trenchcoat]

I was laying on the floor trying to stretch out my back and chewby came over and flopped down next to me, nudged at me and licked my face til I rolled onto my side to face away from her, then rested her head on my head with a leg resting on my neck

She likes to spoon but she prefers to be the big spoon

[s4kura-tr3]

Hiya!!! I’m here again to feed more ideas >:)

My thought was JJK men if their s/o got hurt (interpret however you will, I’m interested to see what you cook up!!!)

If you do this, thank you for your time!!! If you don’t wanna/aren’t comfortable, that’s okay too!!! Have a good day/night!!!

It’s okay

An: ahhh it’s always nice to see your request! I don’t know why but I just decided that all the jjk men’s reader was hurt on the job (except for Sukuna and Toji)

Characters: Gojo, Geto, Nanami, Toji, Sukuna, Megumi, Yuji

Tw: mention of injury, hurt reader, blood, angst?

(Another long one..)

Gojo Satoru

The call came in while Gojo Satoru was lounging in the hallway of Jujutsu High, long legs stretched across a bench and blindfold resting low over his eyes. He wasn’t worried—he never was—but the tone of Ijichi’s voice made him sit up straighter than usual.

“They’re hurt, Satoru. It was supposed to be a simple mission.”

Gojo froze. Just for a second. It was imperceptible to anyone else, but he felt it—the world tilting, the weight of the words sinking in. A familiar tightness pulled in his chest.

And then he was gone.

When Gojo arrived on the scene, the air practically crackled with his energy. Cursed spirits that had lingered moments ago were already fleeing—instinctively knowing that something far greater had arrived. He found you there, propped against a wall, one hand pressed to your side where blood was soaking through your uniform.

Your head lifted weakly when you felt his presence. “Gojo—”

He was in front of you in an instant, crouched down so his face was level with yours. You could see his eyes now—brilliant, endless blue, the usual teasing gone, replaced by something sharp and focused.

“You’re hurt,” he said, his voice softer than you expected. His hands hovered, unsure where to touch you without causing more pain.

“Looks worse than it is,” you murmured with a small smile, trying to lighten the mood. “I handled it.”

Gojo’s jaw tightened. He didn’t smile back.

“You shouldn’t have to handle it.”

With a flick of his fingers, the cursed energy lingering in the area vanished entirely. The remnants of your fight—the spirits, the blood, the destruction—no longer mattered. His world was you, and you were bleeding. That was unacceptable.

He moved you carefully, his Infinity dropping just for you as he slid an arm around your back. “I’ve got you,” he whispered, his tone almost reverent. “Let me fix this.”

You blinked up at him, trying to keep your breathing steady. “I’m fine, Gojo—”

“No, you’re not,” he interrupted, that usual playfulness inching back into his voice, though his grip on you was impossibly gentle. “And you know what? I don’t care how strong you are. You’re banned from missions without me now. Official rule.”

You groaned. “You can’t do that.”

“I’m Gojo Satoru,” he said, a smirk pulling at his lips. “I can do anything.”

He carried you back to safety as if you weighed nothing. He never looked away from you, not even once, as if making sure you were still there—still breathing.

Later, when your wounds were cleaned and wrapped, you woke to find Gojo sitting beside you, his long frame crammed awkwardly into a chair. His blindfold was pushed up into his hair, his expression relaxed now, but his eyes betrayed him. There was no mistaking it—he’d been worried.

“You’re hovering,” you muttered, your voice still tired.

“Of course I’m hovering. You scared the hell out of me,” he said, though the teasing lilt was back. “You’re not allowed to do that again. Ever.”

You rolled your eyes. “Overprotective much?”

Gojo leaned forward, resting his chin on the back of his hand as he gazed at you. “Call it what you want, but you’re not just anyone to me.”

For a moment, the world felt still—so unlike Gojo Satoru, whose very existence bent reality. Here, though, in the quiet of your shared space, he was just a man who cared too much.

“You’re mine to keep safe,” he said softly. “So let me.”

And this time, you didn’t argue. Instead, you let yourself drift back to sleep, safe in the knowledge that Gojo Satoru—the strongest sorcerer alive—would always be there to catch you.

Geto Suguru

Suguru had always prided himself on his composure. No matter how dire the situation, no matter how chaotic the battlefield, he was calm, collected—a force of nature with unshakable purpose. But that resolve faltered the moment he saw you, crumpled on the ground, blood painting the dirt beneath you.

For a brief second, time seemed to stop. The world blurred, all sound fading away except the ragged pull of your breaths. You weren’t dead—he could tell that much from the cursed energy still flickering weakly around you—but you were hurt. Badly.

Geto’s usually languid movements were sharp as he crossed the distance between you in seconds. He crouched low, his hands trembling slightly as he reached for you.

“Why?” he murmured, his voice low and strained. His fingers hovered just above your skin, unsure if touching you would cause more pain. “Why weren’t you more careful?”

You forced a weak smile, blood staining your lips. “It’s… not as bad as it looks, Suguru.”

He didn’t believe you for a second. His eyes—a deep, endless black—burned with emotion, though his face remained calm. It was the kind of calm that preceded a storm.

“Stop lying,” he said softly, though his tone carried an edge. “You’re bleeding out, and you’re trying to joke about it?”

You flinched—not from pain, but from the raw intensity in his voice.

“I handled it,” you said, your voice hoarse. “I didn’t want to drag you into—”

“Stop talking,” he cut in, his tone sharper than you’d ever heard. His hands finally moved, one slipping behind your back to support you, the other pressing firmly against your wound. His cursed energy flowed into you, the warmth of it steadying your fading strength.

“I don’t need you to handle anything alone,” he said, his voice quieter now but no less firm. “Do you even realize what it would do to me if I lost you?”

You blinked at him, the words catching you off guard. He rarely let his emotions spill like this. Suguru had always been the calm one, the one who carried the weight of the world with an almost unnerving grace.

“I’m sorry,” you murmured, your voice barely audible.

His jaw clenched, but he didn’t respond. Instead, hisfocused on stabilizing you, his cursed energy precise and efficient. When he finally spoke again, his voice was softer.

“Don’t apologize. Just… don’t do this again. Promise me.”

You nodded weakly, your hand reaching up to rest against his. “I promise.”

When he was certain you were no longer in immediate danger, Geto carefully lifted you into his arms. His movements were deliberate, his touch impossibly gentle despite the power coursing through him.

The battlefield was eerily quiet now. The curses he’d summoned earlier loomed in the distance, awaiting his command. He glanced toward them, his expression darkening.

“Stay alive,” he said softly, his gaze flicking back to you. “Because if you don’t, I don’t know what I’ll become.”

And as he carried you away, the weight of his words settled heavily in your chest. Geto Suguru—the man who carried hatred for the world in his heart—held a love for you that was both fierce and fragile, and you knew he would destroy everything to protect it.

Nanami Kento

Nanami Kento prided himself on being a man of structure. Predictability, schedules, efficiency—those were his constants. They were the threads that held him together in a world that thrived on chaos.

But when he found you injured during a mission, those threads began to unravel.

The first sign that something was wrong was the blood—your blood—spattered across the cursed ground. Nanami’s grip on his sword tightened, his breath caught in his chest, but his footsteps never faltered. He moved with purpose, carving through curses without hesitation, eyes scanning the ruins for you.

And then he saw you.

Slumped against a cracked pillar, your uniform torn and blood-soaked, you were trying to push yourself upright, hands trembling from the effort. The second your gaze met his, you managed a weak smile.

“Kento…” Your voice was hoarse, strained. “You’re late.”

Nanami’s heart dropped, though his face remained stoic.

“I told you not to overdo it,” he said flatly, kneeling beside you. His voice was calm, his movements deliberate as he assessed your injuries, but his hands shook—just barely—as they hovered near your wounds. “And yet here we are.”

“I’m fine,” you muttered, though you hissed when he pressed his hand against your side to slow the bleeding.

Nanami exhaled slowly through his nose. “You are not fine,” he replied, his tone edged with a frustration he rarely allowed to show. “Don’t lie to me.”

He worked in silence after that, his cursed energy flowing steadily as he stabilized you. He moved with surgical precision, the tension in his shoulders the only indication of his true feelings.

When your breathing finally steadied and the worst of the bleeding stopped, Nanami let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding. He sat back on his heels, running a hand through his disheveled blond hair.

“You shouldn’t have been alone.”

You looked at him, guilt flickering in your expression. “I didn’t want to slow you down. I thought I could handle it.”

Nanami’s eyes snapped to yours, sharp and unyielding. “That’s the last time you think that.” His voice was low, but there was an unshakable finality to it. “You’re not a burden, and I won’t lose you because you insist on acting like one.”

Your lips parted slightly in surprise. For all his composure, Nanami rarely allowed himself to be so blunt with his feelings.

He adjusted his tie—one of his many habits when emotions threatened to break through. “You’re important to me,” he said quietly, his gaze dropping to your hands, still trembling slightly. “Do you understand that? You’re not just a colleague or an ally. You’re… more than that.”

Your heart stuttered, and for a moment, the pain in your body felt distant.

“I understand,” you whispered.

Nanami rose to his feet, steadying you as he helped you up. His arm slid firmly around your waist, supporting you without hesitation.

“We’re going home,” he said simply. “No arguments.”

You leaned into him, exhaustion finally catching up to you. “You’re bossy, you know that?”

Nanami glanced down at you, the faintest hint of a smile tugging at his lips. “And you’re reckless. Someone has to keep you alive.”

There, in the quiet aftermath of the chaos, you felt it—the way Nanami Kento held the world on his shoulders and still made space to carry you.

Toji Fushiguro

Toji Fushiguro wasn’t a man known for his calm temper. He was known for being ruthless, unrelenting, and dangerous—a man whose name alone sent shivers down the spines of sorcerers. Yet, there was one person who could tether the beast inside him—you.

But when Toji heard that you had been hurt, not by a mission gone wrong or an unavoidable accident, but by your own clan head, something inside him snapped.

The messenger hadn’t even finished explaining before Toji was on his feet, his movements sharp, predatory. “Who?” he demanded, his voice low, venomous.

The answer was spoken carefully, but it didn’t matter. Toji already knew where to go.

By the time he found you, you were sitting on the edge of your bed, your posture slumped as you clutched at your side. The bruises on your skin were faint now, evidence of half-healed wounds that still throbbed. You looked up when he entered the room, his towering frame filling the doorway.

“Toji…” you said softly.

His dark green eyes were wild—sharp and calculating as they scanned you. He stalked forward without a word, crouching down so he was at your level. You tried to wave him off.

“I’m fine,” you muttered, forcing a small smile. “It looks worse than—”

“Don’t finish that sentence.” His voice was rough, his calloused hand reaching out to cup your chin gently, tilting your face so he could see you better. “Who did it?”

You froze. You knew that look in his eyes—the quiet, simmering rage that was far more dangerous than any outburst.

“It’s over, Toji,” you tried to reason, placing your hand on his arm. “Don’t—”

“Who?” he repeated, more forceful this time, his grip gentle but unyielding.

You sighed, looking away. “It was the clan head. They were trying to prove a point. It doesn’t matter now.”

The silence that followed was deafening. Toji released your chin, his hand dropping to his knee as he leaned back, the weight of his fury filling the room like a storm cloud.

“It matters to me,” he said darkly, his voice low and lethal. “They thought they could lay a hand on you and get away with it?”

“Toji, you can’t—“

“Watch me.”

He stood abruptly, his broad frame tense with barely-contained rage. You knew what he was planning even before he reached the door. You tried to push yourself up, wincing at the sharp pain that radiated through your side.

“Toji, please! I don’t need you making things worse!”

He paused, his back still to you. When he spoke, his voice was quieter but no less dangerous. “Worse? You think letting them hurt you and walk free isn’t worse?”

“Toji…”

Finally, he turned to look at you, his expression softer now, but his eyes still burned with resolve. “I don’t care what kind of clan they are. No one touches you. No one.”

“You don’t have to fight all my battles.”

“I know,” he said simply. “But I’ll fight them anyway.”

Before you could argue again, he was gone, the door swinging shut behind him with finality. You sighed, running a hand through your hair, knowing that whatever the clan head had done, they were about to regret it deeply.

Toji didn’t waste time. He wasn’t a man for words—he was a man of action, and his message was always clear. When he arrived at the clan’s estate, curses and whispers followed him, the clan members eyeing him warily.

By the time Toji found the clan head, the tension was palpable. The clan head—an older sorcerer brimming with arrogance—looked at Toji with disdain.

“You dare step onto my grounds uninvited?”

Toji smiled, slow and predatory, the kind of smile that never reached his eyes. “Didn’t think I needed an invitation after you laid your hands on mine.”

The clan head barely had a moment to react before Toji was on him. It wasn’t a fight—it was a message. A brutal, merciless display of power from a man who made a career out of destroying sorcerers who thought they were untouchable.

When it was done, Toji stood over the defeated clan head, his voice cold and final.

“Touch them again, and I’ll tear this whole clan apart.”

Hours later, when Toji returned to you, his knuckles were bruised, his shirt stained with evidence of his work, but his expression was calm. He found you sitting up, waiting for him, worry etched across your face.

“What did you do?” you asked softly.

Toji shrugged, dropping down beside you on the bed. “Taught them a lesson. That’s all.”

“Toji…”

He turned to look at you, his gaze softer now. “They won’t hurt you again. I made sure of it.”

You sighed, leaning into him despite yourself. His arm slid around your shoulders, pulling you closer. For all his rough edges, Toji was your fiercest protector, and in moments like this, you realized just how deeply he cared.

“You’re impossible..”

“Yeah, but you love me for it.”

And though you rolled your eyes, you didn’t argue. Because when Toji Fushiguro promised to keep you safe, he meant it—no matter what it cost.

Sukuna Ryomen

When word reached Sukuna that you—the Queen of Curses—had been kidnapped and hurt by sorcerers, the very ground trembled beneath him. His cursed energy surged, shattering walls as his four eyes narrowed in pure, murderous fury.

“They touched what’s mine?” he growled, his voice low and lethal, filling the air with the promise of death. Without waiting for an answer, Sukuna moved.

You sat bloodied in the center of a cursed circle, seals etched into the ground suppressing your power. Despite the sharp ache in your body, you glared up at the lead sorcerer with defiance, golden eyes gleaming.

“You’ll regret this,” you hissed, your voice steady even as blood dripped from your lip.

The sorcerer smirked. “The King of Curses isn’t untouchable. He’ll come, and we’ll destroy him next.”

A deafening boom echoed through the chamber as the barriers shattered. The air grew thick with malevolence, heavy enough to choke. The sorcerers froze, their faces paling.

“Destroy me?” Sukuna’s voice rang out, cruel and mocking. The double doors burst open, splintering into nothing as Sukuna entered, his aura suffocating. His four eyes gleamed with bloodlust, his grin sharp and feral. “You’ve got guts saying that while you’re still breathing.”

Chaos followed.

Sorcerers screamed as Sukuna descended upon them like a storm, cutting through their bodies with a savage, unstoppable force. Limbs were torn, blood splattered across the walls, and their cries echoed until silence swallowed the room. Sukuna’s fury was absolute, leaving only carnage in his wake.

When the last body fell, he turned to you. His steps were slow, deliberate as he approached, his massive form looming over you. His eyes softened just slightly as they took in your injuries, though his expression remained sharp.

“Sukuna,” you muttered, trying to sit upright, though pain flared through you.

He clicked his tongue, crouching to your level. “You let them do this to you?” His clawed hand brushed against your face, careful despite his strength, his touch surprisingly tender.

“They had their tricks,” you smirked faintly. “It wasn’t exactly fair.”

Sukuna’s lips curled into a dangerous grin. “Fair? I’ll show them fairness.” He reached down, breaking the seals binding your power with little effort, cursed energy flooding back into you like a tidal wave.

His hands slid under you, lifting you into his arms effortlessly. “They dared to harm you, my queen,” he muttered, his tone dark. “And they paid for it. I’ll make sure no one forgets.”

“You’re dramatic,” you teased softly, resting your head against his shoulder.

“And you love me for it,” he shot back, his voice lighter but still edged with menace.

As Sukuna carried you out of the ruined chamber, the devastation he left behind spoke louder than words. The King and Queen of Curses were untouchable, and anyone foolish enough to challenge that truth would be reduced to nothing but ash.

Megumi Fushiguro

Megumi wasn’t someone who showed his emotions easily. He carried himself with a quiet resolve, choosing pragmatism over sentimentality. But when he found you—hurt and bleeding during a mission—something in him snapped.

He found you slumped against the rubble of a half-destroyed building, your breathing labored and your uniform torn, blood staining the ground beneath you.

“Y/N!”

The urgency in his voice startled you, and you forced a weak smile as you looked up at him. “Megumi… hey, you’re here.”

Megumi dropped to his knees beside you, his dark blue eyes scanning your injuries, sharp with both worry and focus. “What the hell happened?”

“Just… underestimated the last curse,” you muttered, wincing as you shifted. “It got in a lucky hit.”

He didn’t reply right away, his jaw clenching as his hands hovered uncertainly over you. He wanted to fix this—to take away the pain you were feeling—but he wasn’t a healer. The frustration simmered beneath his calm exterior.

“You shouldn’t have been alone,” he said finally, his voice low, though you could hear the strain in it.

You sighed, leaning back against the rubble. “It wasn’t supposed to be this bad. I thought I could handle it.”

Megumi’s hands curled into fists, his shoulders tense. “And what if you hadn’t made it?”

The words hung in the air, heavy and unspoken until now. He wasn’t yelling, but the anger was there—anger at the situation, at the curse, and maybe even at himself.

Seeing the concern in his expression, you softened. “But I did make it, Megumi. You’re here now.”

He exhaled sharply, running a hand through his dark hair. “That’s not the point.” Slowly, he steadied himself, reaching out to help you sit up. “I can’t—” He hesitated, his voice quieter now. “I can’t lose you.”

The admission made your heart ache, not just from the injuries but from the weight of his words. Megumi rarely showed this side of himself—the one that cared so deeply it hurt him.

“You won’t,” you reassured him softly, placing your hand over his. “I promise.”

His eyes met yours, searching for reassurance. Finally, he nodded, slipping an arm under your shoulders to help you stand. “Come on,” he murmured, his voice gentler now. “Let’s get you out of here.”

As you leaned into him, Megumi held you firmly, steady and protective. Even in his silence, you could feel it—the way he cared, the way he’d been terrified to find you like this.

And as you walked away from the battlefield together, he made himself a silent promise: next time, he’d be there before you ever got hurt. Because to Megumi Fushiguro, keeping you safe wasn’t just a duty—it was what mattered most.

Yuji Itadori

Yuji Itadori was always the bright light in a dark world—a person who smiled even when the odds were stacked against him. But when he saw you lying hurt on the battlefield, all that light dimmed in an instant.

“Y/N!”

His voice cracked as he sprinted toward you, his feet pounding against the ground. You were slumped against a wall, your breathing shallow, blood staining your uniform. At the sound of his voice, your eyelids fluttered open, and you managed a faint smile.

“Yuji…”

He dropped to his knees beside you, his hands hovering, unsure where to touch. His expression was stricken—wide eyes taking in every bruise, every gash. “What happened? Who—what did this to you?”

You winced, shifting slightly. “The curse got a hit in. It was stronger than I thought.”

Yuji clenched his jaw, his fingers trembling as he pulled a handkerchief from his pocket and pressed it gently to the bleeding wound on your side. “You’re losing too much blood. I need to get you out of here.”

Despite the pain, you reached out and grabbed his wrist. “It’s… okay. I’ll be fine. You don’t have to—”

“Stop,” Yuji said firmly, his voice shaking. “Don’t say that. It’s not okay.”

His usual warmth had vanished, replaced by something sharper—something desperate. “You’re hurt because I wasn’t there fast enough,” he said, his eyes fixed on yours. “I should’ve been there to protect you.”

“You can’t always be everywhere at once, Yuji,” you murmured, trying to soothe him. “You’re not a superhero.”

“That doesn’t matter!” he burst out, his fists clenching. “I promised I’d protect the people I care about—and that means you too. I’m not losing anyone else, Y/N.”

The pain in his voice made your chest ache, more than any injury could. Yuji was carrying so much already—too much for one person—but here he was, breaking under the thought of losing you.

“Yuji,” you said softly, reaching up to cup his face despite your weak state. “I’m still here. You didn’t lose me.”

His expression softened, his eyes glassy as he leaned into your touch. “But you could’ve…” he whispered, his voice barely audible. “I can’t let that happen. Not to you.”

You gave him a small, reassuring smile. “Then just stay with me. That’s all I need.”

He nodded quickly, blinking away the tears threatening to fall. “I’ll get you to Shoko. You’ll be okay—I’ll make sure of it.” Carefully, he lifted you into his arms, holding you close as if afraid you’d disappear.

As he carried you away, Yuji glanced down at you, his expression filled with quiet determination. “Next time, I’ll be there before anything touches you. I swear it.”

And you believed him—because Yuji Itadori didn’t break his promises.

[yuvany]

好爱 ─── LOVESICK

First time speaking with 𝐄𝐍𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄𝐍 after only seeing them from afar. . .

OT7 ENHYPEN x fem!reader CONTENT / WARNING(S) fluff + awkward + non!idol AU + rushed + not proofread WORD COUNT 2.2k CHECK MARK.ᐟ

reblogs + feedback always appreciated !!

𝗟𝗘𝗘 𝗛𝗘𝗘𝗦𝗘𝗨𝗡𝗚

You had always admired Heseung from afar. The second you heard he'd be performing at the music evening, you had told your friends that you'd attend the festival. You always kept this to yourselef, not having the courage to speak to him face to face like many other girls. You shared a class with him, he sits on the other side of the classroom, but his popularity manages to attract many people over, and that helps you listen in on their conversations. You start getting annoyed when the only thing you hear is the sound of forced high pitched voices asking him for his number, but thankfully the bell comes in rescue. "We soo look forward to the show later!" They coo before finally leaving. You heave a sigh that had weighed your chest down for far too long. ─── ( more under the cut )

"Why are they so annoying!" You complain to your friend who hums alongs your rant. "Bla bla bla and bla...Get lost!" you mock, you know it's wrong, but your blood just boils as you recall that moment. How could Heeseung even bear with this every single day? "Well, I might know something you don't." You beg for her to spill the beans, and it comes to the point you're practically on your knees begging for the information. "Heeseung apparently needs a duet singer for the show tonight, and do you know who I think is perfect for it?" You shake your head in an instant, realising she meant you. "No!" "If he asked, you'd say yes instantly." She sighs. Your friend pulls up her phone, and you're curious what she's doing, but as you attempt to peek over the table, she hides her screen. The sound of your own phone distracts you, and as you pick it up, you see a message; "Heard you're a singer, wanna help out.// HL" You look up and see that your friend is grinning from ear to ear.

𝗣𝗔𝗥𝗞 𝗝𝗢𝗡𝗚𝗦𝗘𝗢𝗡𝗚

Jay was a gentleman who had earned his title as the Sweetheart of Hybe Academy. People didn't necessarily drool at him every chance they got when they saw him in the classrooms or in the corridors, but everyone knew that he was handsome and that many people whispered behind his back about their small crush on him. They rarely made their confessions because Jay was also known as the 'coldhearted', because he had made it clear to everyone that he did not want to engage in any romantic relationships.

One Saturday morning, you were out with your cat in the backyard because the weather was nice; a mix of the sweet sundrops of summer and a mix of the chilly winters thet were soon to come while your attention was on the cat running around the yard, trying to catch the toy that you were running around with. Unbeknownst to you, and unluckily, a dog was taking a walk with its owner right outside your door step. The dog barked, and your cat got scared for its life, and it got even worse when the dog had acknowledged your pet's presence becaue it continuously barked causing your cat to run up a tree nearby. The dog owner quickly apologised before running away from the scene. You tried to desperately get your cat down, but she was too scared. You were close to calling the fire brigade, but Jay walked by and asked, "What had happened here?" You tell him what happened and he says, "Let me help you, y/n." Jay steadily climed up the tree and called for your cat to return, which it did after not much persuasion. "You're better at this than me." You chuckled.

𝗦𝗜𝗠 𝗝𝗔𝗘𝗬𝗨𝗡

The guy who was captain of the football team. The student who was always with his friends and never with anyone else. Sim Jaeyun, or what he likes to call himself; Jake. Your friends hated his guts for only focusing on sports, but you didn't mind, and neither did the rest of the school. Lately, he had been practicing for longer after school, and even come early before school to practice, and he still had energy for the team practices. You admired him for his presistance.

"Do you know why Jake is practicing so much?" You asked your friends in the hallways. "How would I know?" one friend snarled. "I heard there's a competition soon." Another one replied. You thought about it, and then you remembered, your teacher had asked some people from your year group to help the team, including you, and you had totally forgotten. Hours turned into days, and now the game had begun. You were forced to be there and help hand out water bottles and towels with other classmates, but your eyes were occupied by Jake running around the court. His hard work and long practice hours really paid off, this looked so easy for him. During half-time, he returned to the booth, and was closest to you, so, you naturally handed him a clean towel to wipe the sweat that dripped down his face, and a water bottle for refreshment. "How do you enjoy the game?" he asked, and you couldn't be honest with him, because that would offend him, so you said, "It's cool." he nodded and then grouped with the rest of the team. The second half was complete resulting in the game ending and the results were that your school had won. Jake approached you again and asked you, "You seem nice, I was wondering if I could get your number. Freinds... so we could be friends."

𝙋𝘼𝙍𝙆 𝙎𝙐𝙉𝙂𝙃𝙊𝙊𝙉

It was obvious that Sunghoon was popular and good looking. Girls would have heart eyes when they saw him, their eyes glued to his face whenever he walked by in the corridors. Sunghoon acted as if this was normal for him, like he grew up in this environment. Whatever he did, never surprised anyone, but there was always one thing everyone wondered; Why did he not have a girlfriend yet? When asked this question, he'd say that it was becaus he was waiting for the right timing, but when asked another time, he said that he already had his eyes on someone. This caused everyone to go ballistic.

You had one secret you hated to admit, and that was that you might be slightly infatuated with Sunghoon. In the lunch hall, you hoped to see him, but he was never there, you always thought that he went out of campus during that period to eat at a restaurant or something. That thought was erased one day when you decided to not be in the lunch hall, and went up to the school roof for a change. And because it was too packed. When you opened the heavy door, you saw that familiar black hair and lean figure. It was Sunghoon, and it was too late to turn back around because he had already turned to face you. "I'll go...if you want." You said awkwardly. "No need, company would be nice." His smile was bright and wide. It was silent as you sat opposite from him, and you decided to ask "hey, let's go secret for secret. or question for question" Sunghoon nodded and motioned for you to start. "Why are you up here and not with you friends?" "because this view is able to show me someone I'm interested in." He looks down at the yard, and that specific place that you always go to with your friends, which now was empty, but as you look up, you see his eyes connected with yours.

𝗞𝗜𝗠 𝗦𝗨𝗡𝗢𝗢

The guy who helped whenever he could and whatever. During breaks, he'd help the nurse because he felt bad for the lady. Sunoo was a kind student, students and teachers adored him. His smile was something that could light up a room, and that's something you wished you could do, because if you smiled the way he did, you'd never ever frown. There was only one opportunity for you to see him because your schedules were too different. When he had break, you had a lesson, and vice versa. This was unfortunate, and yet you found yourself attached to him.

PE was your least favourite subject, you hated both the theoretical and practical parts of it. Today though, you feared for your life. It was football. Last time, someone kicked your shin by accident and the area was bruised an awful purple and yellow the next day. Since that day, you tried staying away from the ball which only made the teacher yell at you to get closer to it. When this happened today, your focus was elsewhere and the ball came flying at your face and hit you hard. Everyone gathered around you, and the teacher told you to meet the nurse with a sigh. You slowly made your way there, and when you walked inside, the nurse was nowhere to be seen, so you laid on the couch and closed your eyes. "hello, what happened to you." It was Sunoo, it was his voice. "Got this football flown at me." You say, trying to sound sad even though you felt estatic on the inside. " I hate sports. The nurse isn't here, so let me grab an ice pack." he says, and rushes out. He returns and hands you the cold pack, you sit up and when the cold hits, you're ready to go. "Shouldn't you like...rest for a while...here?" He asks, holding you down by the wrist. "uhm...sure, why not." You awkwardly giggle.

𝗬𝗔𝗡𝗚 𝗝𝗨𝗡𝗚𝗪𝗢𝗡

Smart, polite, and handsome were words regularly used to describe Yang Jungwon, the student president. There was no jealousy and there was no competition amongst him and other students, only friendship. During Valentines you'd see how many love letters were shoved inside his unfortunate locker, each paper looking crumbled at the force and desperation to push it inside. You felt bad for them because you knew how Jungwon didn't care about them, he'd put them in a plastic bag and then take them home to most probably thow out without anyone knowing.

One day though, Jungwon doesn't appear in the first lesson and even the teachers are confused. This was unlike him in many ways. Today, the teacher had even asked if he would be kind enough to help him after class with sorting and going through all student documents, and it was visible that he was hoping for Jungwon to just be slightly late, becuase rather late than never. The clock ticked and tacked, each second feeling longer than the last. Eventually, the bell rang and the lesson had ended. You felt bad for the teacher and offeredd your help. He smiled, and told you what to do before he rushed out to get a coffee. Not long after, you hear footsteps outside the door again, maybe you were wrong. "Hello?" You hear a boy pant out as he shoves the door open. Jungwon is just as surprised as you when he walks in. "y/n, what are you doing here?" He asks confused. You tell him your tale and he chuckles. You ask him as well, becuase you missed him, and he tells his tale. "Let me help you with this." He says, as he picks up the stack of papers, his fingers brushing against yours.

𝗡𝗜𝗦𝗛𝗜𝗠𝗨𝗥𝗔 𝗥𝗜𝗞𝗜

Riki was known for his hard looking exterior but soft interior. People feared him, his seat mates feeling the chill run down their spines, but not because he was scary, but because there was something special about him, he was beautiful. You only knew him from rumours talking about a dance prodigy who dances smoother than waves, the boy that doesn't speak with anyone other than his friends. You had thought nothing of it at first sight, but the more you saw him, the more you were attracted to him. You don't know why, and that was a dilemma. If he refused to talk with anyone except his friends, how would you manage to get close to him.

It all seemed like a dream to you, to befriend him, or maybe more, and you tried your best to conceal your feelings. It all went according to plan until one evening during your walk. You heard the drum of footsteps nearby, and decided to check it out. You sneaked closer to the sound and eventually found youself hidden in a bush, tangled up in the branches. It was Riki. At firt sight, he was unrecognisable, then you slowly noticed how similiar he moved to the one in your school. His moves caught you like a fish to a hook, and your eyes gleamed with admiration as you watched him dance. As time passed, you forgot it was time to go, and that if you stayed any longer, you'd be found. Unfortunately for you, you had already stayed for too long. When you looked down at your phone, Riki turned around and found you, his eyes wondering who you may be, but then he recognises you from campus. A smirk spreads over his face as he waits for you to look up. "Hello, y/n." He waves your way, and you are dumbfounded. "You know my name?" You say, shocked, more worried about that than being exposed.

network tag ! @k-films

[rafecameronssl4t]

Thinkin’ bout me || Rafe Cameron x fem!reader

gif by @chenslucy

Summary: inspired by the lyrics of “thinkin’ bout me” Morgan Wallen 🤗🤗

Warnings: slight angst ig

Word count: 1,964

A/n: I rlly wanna do one with a Zach Bryan song but the ideas aren’t coming to me 😔

MASTERLIST

divider by @h-aewo

Don't know where you at, don't know where you've been. Don't know nothin' 'bout that boy you're into.

It had been two months since you’d left, pulling yourself out of Rafe’s orbit so completely that he’d almost started to believe you’d vanished for good. Then tonight, here you were, mingling at the yacht party like nothing had happened.

Only now, an unfamiliar blonde had his arm wrapped casually around your waist, his fingers tracing lazy patterns against your hip as you leaned in close to hear him over the music, a bright, carefree smile lighting up your face. Rafe’s stomach twisted at the sight.

He couldn’t hear what you were saying, but he could see the way you laughed at something the guy said, your head tipping back as if his words were the funniest thing you’d heard all night. The version of you he saw now felt almost foreign to him—like he’d been replaced by someone who wasn’t weighed down by your shared past.

Maybe you really were happier, but seeing you with someone else so soon cut deeper than he’d anticipated. It was the smile that got to him the most—the one he remembered as his—now aimed at someone else.

Don't feel bad for you, but I feel bad for him. And all the hell you gon' be puttin' him through. Probably tell him we're a burnt out flame. Probably tell him that I ain't been on your mind. How I ain't nothin' but a long gone thing. You can cuss my name, but baby, don't you lie

The unfamiliar blonde looked wildly out of place in the gleaming luxury of the yacht party, as though he’d just wandered into the wrong scene altogether. He had a wholesome air about him that felt like it belonged more to a Kildare bonfire than this slick, exclusive gathering. Rafe’s jaw clenched as he watched the guy, wondering what you could possibly see in someone so blatantly average.

“Who are you staring at?” Topper’s voice broke into his thoughts, a teasing chuckle in his tone as he followed Rafe’s gaze. He spotted you almost immediately, his eyebrows lifting in mild surprise. “Oh. She looks good—”

“Shut the fuck up, man. Don’t wanna hear it,” Rafe muttered, not breaking his stare. He didn’t need anyone telling him how good you looked; he already knew. Topper just threw his hands up, backing off with a smirk. Before Topper could throw in another comment, you shifted, turning around just enough to spot him.

Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk, catching the way you froze for a split second and in that instant, he saw the flicker of nerves in your expression. Rafe’s lips curled into a smirk, watching the way you subtly fidgeted under his stare. He could practically see the wheels turning in your mind as you quickly turned back to the guy beside you.

The blonde followed your gaze, catching sight of Rafe and Topper watching. His expression tightened just slightly, his eyes darting back to Rafe every few seconds, clearly trying to size him up. Rafe’s smirk widened; he knew exactly what was going through the guy’s mind. You were probably telling him some watered-down version of what you and Rafe had been—a burnt-out flame, a chapter you’d left behind.

Maybe you were painting Rafe as the villain, the one you’d gotten over, glossing over the parts that didn’t fit. Even cussing him out just to make it seem like you’d moved on. But he saw right through it. He knew the kind of hell you’d probably put this guy through, the stories you’d tell him, the ways you’d pretend you’d forgotten.

He’d been in your life long enough to know you, and he couldn’t help but feel sorry for this poor bastard. He didn’t feel bad for you—not anymore. But for the guy who thought he’d won you over? Rafe almost pitied him. He had no idea the hell you’d eventually put him through, just like you’d put Rafe through.

When you're tastin' what he's drinkin', are you thinkin' 'bout me? When you're ridin' where he's drivin', are you missin' my street?

Rafe’s eyes lingered on you, the smirk slipping into something colder as he watched you lean closer to the blonde, your laughter ringing out over the music. But he saw right through it. He knew you well enough to pick up on the tiny tells—the way you glanced over your shoulder just slightly, probably checking if he was still watching.

You were putting on a show, and he knew it. He could almost picture it: you, lifting a drink to your lips, tasting the same burn of bourbon he used to pour you, and wondering if it would ever hit the same. Or maybe it was later, on some midnight drive as the blonde took you back home, the car turning down familiar roads but never quite the right ones. He could almost feel that ache settling in you when his road, the one leading up to Tannyhill, passed by without a pause.

You might be so close, just one turn away, and yet still missing that feeling of belonging you’d only ever felt pulling into his place, the street you’d once called home. He could feel Topper glancing his way, but he didn’t care, didn’t let up. He wanted to make sure you knew he was still there, that he was watching you, and that no matter how hard you tried, you couldn’t just erase him. Not from those old habits, not from those half-forgotten memories that clung to you like shadows.

And even as you turned back to the blonde, pretending you didn’t care, he could tell. Somewhere, deep down, he knew you’d feel that same hollow ache—the same one he was feeling right now—whenever you tasted what he was drinking or found yourself driving down a street that just didn’t feel the same.

Every time you close your eyes, tell me, who do you see. Comin' over tonight, wish that truck in your drive was mine. Just like you know it's supposed to be

Every time you closed your eyes, he wondered if it was his face you still saw, if memories of him filled those moments you tried to shut out. He imagined you lying awake, maybe with that blonde by your side, but when you let your guard down, it wasn’t him you’d see. It was Rafe, pulling up to your place, the sound of his truck rumbling in the driveway as he walked up to your door, familiar and steady as if he’d never left.

He could picture it so clearly—his truck parked outside, headlights washing over your front porch, the way he’d make himself at home in your space without a second thought. Rafe knew you could pretend all you wanted, but when you closed your eyes, he’d be there, waiting in those memories you could never quite shake. And somewhere, deep down, he knew you’d feel that pang of regret every time you wished that truck in your drive was his.

When you're up in his bed, am I up in your head? Making you crazy, tell me, baby, are you thinkin' 'bout me?

He couldn’t help but wonder if, in those quiet hours of the night, when you were lying beside him, it was his name that slipped into your mind uninvited. When you were up in that guy’s bed, was it him who filled your thoughts instead—if the memory of his hands, his voice, his presence stayed just beneath the surface, making it impossible to forget. He wanted to know if he’d left a mark, lingering even now, pushing you to the edge of madness as you tried to convince yourself you’d moved on.

Rafe moved in quietly, blending into the crowd, making his way closer as he watched the blonde step away, leaving you alone for the first time all night. He didn’t hesitate, just closed the distance, eyes fixed on you with that knowing look you’d tried to ignore. Reaching for a glass, he pretended to pour himself a drink, but his attention was fully on you, his voice low and taunting.

“Tell me, baby,” he murmured, just loud enough for you to hear, “are you thinkin’ ’bout me?” The words hung in the air between you, his gaze steady, daring you to look away. He didn’t need to say anything else. The challenge was in his eyes, his tone, the slight smirk playing at his lips as he watched your reaction. He knew he was under your skin, that no matter how hard you tried, memories of him had a way of creeping back. And now, standing close enough to feel the tension humming between you, he was waiting, pushing just enough to make you wonder if he’d ever really left your thoughts.

You swallowed, eyes narrowing as you tried to brush off the effect he still had on you. But the heat of his presence was unmistakable, almost magnetic, pulling you into that familiar territory you’d been trying so hard to avoid. His eyes searched yours, unreadable, but you caught the flicker of something darker beneath the surface—a mixture of anger, curiosity, maybe even the smallest hint of longing.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” you replied, keeping your voice steady, forcing a smile that you hoped would mask the way your pulse quickened. But Rafe’s smirk only grew, as if he could see right through your act. He leaned in, close enough that his breath brushed against your ear, his voice dropping to a near-whisper. “Sure, keep tellin’ yourself that.” He paused, letting the weight of his words sink in as he stared at you side profile before chuckling to himself.

“But we both know who’s really on your mind tonight.” You felt a shiver roll down your spine, his proximity making it impossible to ignore the pull between you, the way his presence filled every corner of your mind despite the months apart. He lingered there, eyes never leaving yours, daring you to deny it, to keep pretending he was just a part of your past.

“You look good,” he added, voice soft, with just the slightest edge. “But maybe that’s ’cause I remember how you used to look at me.” The words hit harder than you’d like, his eyes holding yours with an intensity that left no room for anything else. You wanted to come up with something quick, something sharp to throw back at him. But for a second, you just stood there, caught in the moment, feeling the weight of every memory between you—the late nights, the laughter, the arguments, the way he’d looked at you like no one else ever had.

[baby-yongbok]

Remedies

OT8 x Reader

Genre - Comfort WC - 746

Summary - These are ways that I think the boys would help you to get over your mental and/or physical struggles Content Warning - Themes of mental and physical illness/struggles, mention of hospitals, mentions of medications/needles, mentions of food

A/N - I wrote this on my living room floor just now because I’m sick of being sick. I’m sick of being chronically ill, and I needed some comfort, so I thought I’d share it for anyone else who could use some comfort, too. I based these off of my experiences with my illnesses/disabilities. If you can relate then I just wanna say that i see you and you're strong. Keep fighting 💕+ I tried to write this to be gender neutral, I think I nailed it

✧ Masterlist ✧

Hugs from Jisung when your panic attacks have subsided. He whispers sweet praises of “You're okay” and “You're so strong” while he rocks you in his lap. You're still on the floor where he found you. His shirt soaks up every tear and his soft kisses on your forehead bandage every wound. You tell him that he can go, you apologize for causing a commotion, but he just holds you closer.

Laughing with Changbin while he tries to distract you from your symptoms flaring up. He's loud and silly on the couch with you. He's careful not to go overboard, he watches you to make sure that you're still comfortable while he makes silly voices and dances around for you. He's not ready to watch you cry yourself to sleep from the pain but he'll be ready to make you laugh again when you need it most.

Kisses from Chan while you're at your doctor's appointment. Your leg is shaking and he's soothing gentle circles into your back while he kisses your knuckles. He knows that you're scared, he is too. You have no idea what the doctor will say but he knows one thing for sure, no matter what the results are he'll be right by your side. He'll fight with you every single day and he'll kiss the pain away.

Adventures with Hyunjin when he realizes that you're avoiding going outside again. He knows that you get paranoid. He knows that every corner that you turn feels unsafe so he holds your hand. He skips across streets with you and dances on the white lines of the cross walks. He pulls you into shops that you've been too scared to visit yourself and buys you everything that you touch. He molds new memories with you with his bare hands. He'll do it everyday if he has to.

Cooking with Minho when he sees that you've been watching your diet too closely. He's gentle with you. You taste test everything together, he feeds you with silver spoons and kisses your nose with every hesitant swallow. He stands behind you while you stir the contents in the pots and plucks flour at you to see that pretty smile that he loves so much. He feeds you from his fork and he wipes away the mess. He makes it feel like it all goes down easy.

Reading with Seungmin when he comes to visit you in the hospital. He knows that you feel like you're going mad in here. He knows that you want to get up out of bed and walk out of here with him, that's what he wants too. Instead he holds your hand while you rest your head on his shoulder. He reads you each word with a softness that somehow drowns out the beeping of your monitors and the commotion on the other side of the curtain. He transports you to a place where you aren't sick. To a place where it's just you and him.

Cuddling with Jeongin when you feel that dark cloud consuming you again. He knew what was wrong when you let your alarms ring on for the third day in a row. You're huddled under blankets together, unmoving and quiet. His arms circle your waist and he pulls you closer. He weighs you down to reality. He makes you feel something besides the bubbling emptiness in your chest. He hums to you when the tears start to fall. He hums and holds you tighter. He won't let you drift away.

Singing with Felix while he helps you with your medication. There's so many to take that you've been overwhelmed with it all so he puts on a playlist and grabs all your pills. He lays them out and organizes them just how you need them. He uses the TV remote as a microphone, passing it to you when he sees you staring at the medicine littering the tabletop. He has you sing for him when he gives you your injections. He makes them as quick and painless as he can, always joining you for a high note as he sticks the band-aid on for you. He spins and hugs you once you're done for the day. He doesn't have to give you any praise, you can feel the love in his touch. You can hear it in his voice and see it in his actions. He's always going to be there to make it all feel easier.

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[salemlunaa]

YOU’RE WASTING YOUR ENERGY…

you guys need to put your time elsewhere

idrk if this is a weigh-in on the situation/discussion that’s been going on but it’s a message to you guys in general…

you guys need to mind your goddamn business, if yall would put that energy you do into dictating what people can and can’t do in THEIR OWN realities, into actually tapping in, you would be in your new reality with no worries in the world or in a much better place regardless.

before i was someone who actually posted on here, i was just a lurker and would see you guys bully people off this app because they didn’t condemn the choices other people made in their reality, for example: race changing. you guys automatically assume that someone who had better things to do than give a fuck is “siding” with people who race change or age up or down and relentlessly harass them until they deactivate. like wtf guys??

and as for me, i don’t give a fuck

if you wanna race change or change ethnicities, go ahead

if you wanna age someone up or down so you can date them, sure go do that

if you wanna script that your friend’s man is actually yours, even though i will never understand that because there are plenty of fish in the sea, BE MY FUCKING GUEST

because guess what? someone’s reality isn’t for me or you to understand. and you guys can say my morals are fucked for saying that but this isn’t about my morals, this post has nothing to do with my morals or yours because those two things have no importance in SOMEONE ELSE’S reality

and the thing is you are wasting your breath because people will do whatever they want at the end of the day. and you are wasting your time ESPECIALLY if said person wants to permashift or respawn because it means they won’t remember anything, it would be like they looked that way and lived like that their whole life, they won’t even remember this whole ordeal and won’t remember your rehearsed thinkpieces that no one asked to hear (including mine)

you don’t have to agree or follow what they are doing, just mind your business and focus on the prize, being your new and perfect reality, you guys could have ANYTHING and wanna focus on what others are doing?? come on now….

go get your dream life, do whatever you want and don’t let anyone tell you shit because it’s your life and that’s something big

yall are so quick to apply pressure to other people for their life choices but never quick to apply all that you have learnt to get your dream life

anyway…

STAY IN YOUR OWN LANE AND BEHAVE 🙄💋

[for-ests]

Fine Line: Gojo Satoru x Reader

summary: friends to lovers, gojo is in love with the campus doctor, and can't hide it any longer. lovesick gojo is my favvveee<3 wc: 4.4k warnings: fluff then SMUT ^^

Once again, Gojo was in your office in the middle of the night.

"What time is it?" you asked, borderline scolded, but refrained from rolling your eyes. After every mission, he would make an excuse to find his way onto your hospital bed. And every single time, he had nothing more than minor scrapes and bruises but would always insist you look over him "just in case."

"Late, I know." He looked somewhat guilty.

"Was this curse too strong for the students again?" you teased, reaching for your gloves but not bothering to put them on. One glance at Gojo, and you knew. You just knew he was there for a different reason. The white-haired sorcerer wasn't physically hurt. He rarely ever was. But now, his excuses to see you were becoming apparent to you and others.

"You could say that." He shook his head, forcing himself to release a chuckle. He was about to cross a very fine line, one that was established the day he met you. But he was only a man, and he needed to at least try and quell the need he felt for you.

It was internal, and Gojo felt like you were one of the only people who truly saw him and took the time to listen to him. After all these years of admiring you in silence, he still couldn't come clean with it. Every time he visited you, his heart twisted with an unquenchable yearning, feeling betrayed and played by fate. He was lost in a sea of emotions, unable to make sense of it all. Despite the turmoil of his everyday life, despite the responsibility that weighed on his shoulders, he found solace in your presence. 

Would it ever go away?

You were like a beacon in the darkness of his world. Your smile illuminated the space, radiating warmth and energy that seemed to chase away the shadows that clouded his mind. Despite having the attention of any woman he could dream of, he could not tear his gaze away from you. Why couldn't he leave you alone? Why couldn't he get you out of his head?

"Y/N, look at me," he called out softly, his voice warm and inviting. It was a desperate plea to draw your attention away from your surroundings and towards the turmoil that raged within his soul.

Catching the seriousness of his tone, you froze, setting down your prep materials. Your eyes carefully rose to meet his, and you almost gasped. Gojo, the strongest man you knew, was on the verge of tears.

“Are you feeling okay?” you asked, almost getting lost in the blue of his glistening eyes. It had always been hard for you to hold his gaze for long, as the intensity of his stare made you flustered. You often wondered if he looked at anyone else like this, talked to them like this, touched them like he had you.

Breath catching in his throat, Gojo saw the subtle hint of concern on your face—it was endearing. You seemed so beautiful and so caring, and it only added to his feeling of helplessness. 

Gently, he grasped your hand and placed it over his heart, letting you feel the rapid beat that betrayed his inner turmoil.

"I'm fine," he said quietly, a hint of vulnerability in his usually confident tone. "But can you do something for me?"

“W-what?” you asked, feeling his heartbeat, which was definitely faster than usual. The fabric of his shirt bunched between your fingertips. 

Gojo continued to hold your gaze; his grip on your hand was gentle but firm. 

"Can you... just sit with me for a moment? I need your company right now," he said, slightly hoarse. “I don’t wanna leave here again without saying what I really feel…” 

“Oh, okay.” You blinked, eyebrows creased as you joined him on the hospital bed. 

Your professionalism vanished as you noticed the glassy forlornness in his beautiful blue eyes. Sitting next to him, you leaned into his embrace. 

After a moment of silence, you asked, “Did something happen?” Your finger traced the outside of his palm to try to soothe him further. God… his hands were so soft despite how large and powerful they were.

Gojo let out a deep breath as he felt you lean against him, the weight of your body against his. It was perfect. He closed his eyes for a moment, relishing the comfort your presence provided. He opened his eyes again at your question and looked down at your joined hands. Friends didn’t touch each other like this, right? 

"It's...complicated," he said, his voice quiet after a moment. "I just... need a distraction from my thoughts right now. Your company is enough."

A small smile tugged at the corners of his lips at your comfort, one that sent a jolt of electricity through him. You had always been enough, and he had always loved you. Now, it was just impossible to ignore.

“Talking about it can be the best cure and distraction,” you whispered, faintly smiling back at him. “You know you can tell me anything, Satoru, I will never think of you differently.”

Those simple words from your lips were like a balm to his wounded soul. Gojo felt a lump form in his throat as he looked at you, a mixture of gratitude and affection filling his chest.

"You're too kind," he murmured, his voice low and heavy with emotion. "But this...this could change everything between us."

He raised his free hand and gently brushed a stray piece of hair away from your face.

You sighed blissfully in response. Just the faintest touch from him flustered you. It was so tender, and you wanted more. You always savored any physical moment you had with him. God, you were so infatuated with him, and he didn't even know it.

Gojo's eyes followed the path his finger traced across your cheek, and he couldn't help but notice your reaction. He felt a pang in his chest as he saw the way your body responded to his touch, practically melting against him. Was there a chance you felt the same?

"You're blushing," he whispered, a hint of amusement in his voice. He let his hand linger on your cheek, his thumb tracing small circles almost absentmindedly.

"How can I not when you touch me like this?" you responded breathlessly, unable to tear your eyes away from his.

Gojo's heart skipped a beat at your words, your sudden drunken response sending a shiver down his spine. He hadn't meant to affect you so much, but the sight of you so needy was an incredible feeling.

"I can't help it," he murmured, his thumb starting to trace the line of your jaw. "Your reactions are just too cute."

You felt like your heart was about to burst. He always looked so handsome, and you felt like an infatuated schoolgirl whenever he was around, whenever you two were alone. How immature of you; you were supposed to be working. But it was the best part of your day when you were tending to Gojo, which was far more often than you preferred. It also made you feel guilty. You didn't want him to get hurt, it was the last thing you ever wanted. You knew it wasn't normal for him to be touching you like this, for you to reciprocate in the same manner, as these actions crossed the boundary of just friends and coworkers. But maybe you were both more comfortable with this label, even if it pulled at your heartstrings. If Gojo had wanted you, he would have made that clear years ago, right?

Gojo was keenly aware of how you blushed and stuttered in his presence, filling him with a sense of satisfaction that he couldn't quite identify with. The power he had over you was intoxicating. But still, there was a part of him that wanted more, that wanted to cross the line you had set for yourselves.

As you sat there next to him, close enough for your thighs to touch, he found himself fighting the urge to reach out and pull you closer, to bury his face in your hair and breathe in your scent.

His compliment caused you to giggle slightly and glance away. But you didn't retreat from his embrace and only squeezed his hand a little tighter. "Will you tell me what's wrong?" you pressed again. "Why do you want me to distract you?"

Gojo's heart ached. He almost felt sick at how badly he wanted you to be his. But your insistence made it difficult to keep secrets, and refusing any of your requests felt impossible.

Still debating whether confessing was right, he hesitated momentarily before answering. "It's just... life," he finally said, his voice soft and low. "The weight of being the strongest. The pressure. The kids always looking up to me...It can be overwhelming sometimes."

"I'm sure it can be," you said, biting your lip slightly. "You often come here when you want a distraction." You glanced at the gauze and disinfection you had intended to use on his superficial wounds. "You pretend you're more hurt than you are physically. But you just want to vent to me, right?"

It was obvious, after all. Gojo could heal himself if he wanted to. You knew that, and so did everyone.

Gojo's shoulders sagged as he recognized the truth in your words. It was childish of him, possibly even cowardly. The pain he felt from battle was nothing compared to the ache in his heart whenever he was away from you.

He let out a sigh and nodded, his eyes meeting yours again. “You know me too well,” he said quietly. “But yes. I guess I just needed to talk to you. You make everything feel easier.”

"You should ask me to hang out with you more often," you chuckled. "I know we're both busy, but I can make time for you, Satoru. There's no need to pretend."

Gojo felt a pang of guilt at your words. You were right, he should have just asked you to hang out with him more often instead of resorting to these tactics.

"Yeah," he admitted, his voice soft. "I shouldn't have used my injuries as an excuse. I just...like having you around."

He looked down at your joined hands, his thumb rubbing your knuckles. "Can I ask you something?"

Frowning slightly, you wondered if he had misinterpreted your words by the expression on his face. You didn't want him to feel guilty at all, if anything, you found his visits endearing. He refused to see any doctor but you, which instilled pride in your work. It had become a joke between your coworkers and you, all betting on whether Gojo had a crush on you.

"You can ask me anything." You set your free hand on his knee. You wanted to touch more of him so badly, not under the guise of treating his minor scratches and bruises.

His heart skipped a beat, and he couldn't help but relish the feeling of your touch. Taking a deep breath, he gathered the courage to ask the question that had been on his mind for so long.

"Why... why are you always there for me? Why do you treat my wounds no matter how small? I mean... you have others to look at... but you always come to me." He looked at you, his heart thudding in his chest as he waited for your answer.

"I guess you caught me, too." You blushed, feeling bashful and somewhat embarrassed that he noticed your antics. "Maybe I want to spend whatever time I can with a busy man like yourself."

Gojo's heart fluttered as you admitted to caring for him just as much as he cared for you. He had hoped it was the case, but hearing you confirm it felt like a weight had lifted off his chest.

He chuckled softly, using both hands to hold your face, so incitingly that you didn't even think to pull away. "You know you don't have to use my injuries as an excuse to see me, right? I always want to spend time with you, no matter how busy I am."

His reply was enough for you. You understood what he meant in his repetition of your own words. It was in how he touched you, how his eyes sparkled with relief. Nervously, your eyes flickered down to his lips. He was so close, and what you craved was only one movement away. But no, you wouldn’t kiss him first. You needed to have more restraint than this. 

“Is this your way of saying you like me more than a friend?” you asked, looking up at him through your eyelashes.

Your question was answered in the way his breath caught in his throat, in the way his gaze trailed down to your lips and back up to your eyes. He was mesmerized by you, drawn in like a moth to a flame.

"Yes," he replied, his voice barely above a whisper. "I do. I yearn to be near you more often than I dare to admit, I tried to resist but I can't anymore."

Gojo's heart thundered in his chest as your eyes widened in response.

“I feel the same," you said, your admission causing a shiver to run down his spine.

"You... you do?" he murmured, tilting his face a little closer to yours. He wanted to be closer to you, to feel your skin against his; holding your hand wasn’t enough. 

Your eyes flickered to Gojo’s lips again, your stare begging and pleading. The need for something more was evident. “I do.”

Suddenly, he felt emboldened by your words, his own feelings mirrored in your body language.

Gojo's breath hitched as he noticed the palpable desire in your gaze. It was physically impossible to resist any longer.

Leaning in, he closed the distance between you, his lips hovering millimeters from yours. "Say it again," he murmured, his voice rough with emotion.

“Fuck Satoru,” you practically whined, your eyes closing, lulled by his gentle touch and the inches that teased between you. “I love you, okay?"

Gojo felt a shudder run down his spine at the sound of his name on your lips, the desperation in your voice sending a wave of heat through him. You loved him.

With a low groan, he closed the distance between you, capturing your lips in a deep kiss. His hand on your cheek gently tilted your head, allowing him to claim your lips hungrily.

Moaning into the kiss, you inhaled deeply, satisfied to finally taste him, to finally give in to your desires. One of your hands reached out and gripped his bicep, drawing him closer against your own body.

Gojo deepened the kiss further, a thrill shooting through him as he felt the heat of your body even through his clothes, and it fueled his need for more.

His tongue traced your bottom lip, demanding entry to your mouth, as his other hand trailed up your hip, grasping with need. A low moan escaped him as he tasted you, feeling you submit to his tune, his body responding to your touch like a taut bowstring.

You were on the verge of shuddering, desire pooling in that oh-so-dangerous spot, the part of you that might lose all sense of control and decency. Your feelings for Gojo were intense and had been for some time. You still couldn't believe this was happening. Anything he wanted from you was his to take. Anything to make him feel better. 

One of your hands rested against his neck while the other ran through his white locks, refusing to let him go, wanting him to touch you further. Nobody else was in the office, it was just the two of you. You were so starved of affection from the one you desired the most, that you would take any moment you could get.

Gojo seemed to realize at the same time, and he couldn’t control himself as he picked you up and brought you over to rest against your desk. With one hand, he swiped the belongings off and onto the floor, gently guiding you until you were on your back, legs wrapping tightly around his waist. 

Hungrily, he kissed you again; his own body was on fire as you giggled at his erratic, desperate movements as if he couldn't get enough. It was as if he wanted to worship every part of you now that you’d given him permission.  

"Y/N," he whispered against your mouth, his voice rough with need. "I want you. More than anything. I love you too."

"T-take me..." you whimpered, staring deep into his eyes as your lab coat fell loosely around your shoulders. To see him so desperate for you, the yearning of his tone and the affection in his glacier-blue eyes was all it took for your own restraint to fade away.

An almost primal hum of approval vibrated in his throat. "Right here?" he murmured, his breath hot against your lips. "On the desk?" His fingers dug into the flesh of your hips, his body pressing yours against the cold wood of the desk.

Nodding furiously at how hot this would be, you nodded to the door. "I don't want to wait any longer," you whispered seductively, reaching out to brush your delicate hands against the growing tent in Gojo's pants. "And I don't think you want to either."

Gojo let out a shaky breath at your coyness. His control was fraying quickly, and he knew this was a battle he was going to lose.

Nodding, he reached for the light switch, plunging the office into semi-darkness. He then moved to the door, locking it with a decisive click. When he turned back to you, his eyes were dark with desire.

"You're driving me crazy," he murmured, stalking back towards you. 

You spread your legs back apart, hooking them around his waist once he reached your awaiting embrace. Grasping his face, you pulled him back on top of you. "You made me wait too long for this," you teased, though still strained with a yearning he only noticed through subtle hints throughout the months, almost a year, that you’d known each other. It had been in your eyes, through quick glances, but never in your words.

Just the sound of your voice and the longing within it made him shudder. 

He pressed his bulge against your core, his hands sliding up under your shirt. "I wanted you this whole time," he whispered, his voice rough with desire. "You have no idea how much I want you." His lips moved to the sensitive skin of your neck, nipping and sucking at your pulse point.

Sighing blissfully, your hands found their way back into his hair, holding him against you as if he would escape, as if this was only a dream. 

"What took you so long?" you mumbled, slightly dazed, then gasped as Gojo's fingers hooked the band of your bra. You shrugged off your lab coat, following his lead as he lifted your undershirt and bra over your head and tossing it behind him quickly before his hands reached for your breasts. The cold air swirled around your nipples and you bit down on your lip. It was shocking to finally be naked in front of the man you’d craved since the moment you met. "S-Should have made me yours a long time ago," you whispered, gazing up at him with a sudden shyness.

“Maybe I was too stupid and scared to realize before,” he practically groaned, immediately latching his mouth onto the swell of your breast, his other hand pawing gently at the other. With your nipple still pressed against his pretty pink lips, Gojo’s eyes gazed into your own. “How can I make it up to you?”

Your chuckle morphed into a moan as his tongue swirled around your chest, a devilish smirk upon his face, your reactions stimulating him further. 

“T-this is working….” you gasped, one hand steadying yourself against the desk while the other reached for his pants, beginning to tug them down. 

“I think you should be my girlfriend,” Gojo said somewhat nonchalantly as he broke away, curling his hands around your pants and shimming them down your legs. “That would make everything better-” he bent down between your spread legs and pressed his lips against your covered cunt, inhaling deeply. 

“Don’t you think?” he asked with glossy eyes and a heavy, lustful stare. “Not sure if I wanna share you.” 

“You can ask a bit more nicely…” you teased bashfully as he pulled your panties to the side. 

“Please, Y/N…. please please be my girlfriend, I promise it's worth it. I’ll give you the world, I’ll make you feel so good, better than you ever have before.” 

Though it was dim, you could see the smile on his face and sincerity in his eyes. It felt right, as it always had. 

“You promise?” Your whisper was desperate, not just for his body but also his heart. You didn’t just want him to give you the world; you wanted to share yours with him. 

His thumb ran over your protruding, bottom lip. “I promise, Y/N. I’m so in love with you, please let me show you.” 

“I love you too, Satoru.” 

And that’s when his tongue finally lapped against your slit, a groan of satisfaction vibrating against your core. How desperate he was, how sloppy, but it worked. It worked too well, and you were already coming undone from how gentle he was with your clit, the smooth circles edging you closer and closer, opening you up and preparing you for the utmost pleasure. How sexy you were, splayed across your own desk for him, just like the way you were in his dreams, when he would spend all night longing for your calming presence, fantasizing until he worked himself into an orgasm. 

You moaned and whimpered for him, because of him, and he felt his cock about to burst just from the sight of you, from tasting you.

And after your first orgasm, Gojo leaned forward and captured your lips with his, stifling your moans so only he could hear. His name upon your lips, begging for more, begging for all of him. 

Heavenly, you were, and it was all for him—something Gojo would have never predicted. Yes, he was skilled, and yes, he was the strongest, but you were the only person to ever make him feel alive. When he said he loved you, he meant it. 

And you allowed him to finally nestle his thick cock where it was desperate to go. 

“Satoru! Ahhh….” You threw your head back at the sensation, back arching within the same movement, unprepared for how thick and commanding he would be. You closed your eyes for a moment, only feeling, only touching, only relishing in him. Your mind was filled with his rapture, his passion, his love.

“S-so big,” you whimpered, gripping the edge of the desk in bewilderment, eyes squeezing shut from the intense pressure that filled and stretched you completely. "Fuck!" Was all you managed to sound between erratic moans, only wanting to feel him, latching onto his biceps for support, bodies pressing against the other in sync from the moment of consummation. Gojo sank into you until it was painful, until you were full of his twitching cock.

You were dripping, making it easy for him to thrust as slowly as he could, waiting for you to adjust, waiting for your command to take it even further.

“M-more…” you begged, not needing to repeat your demand before Gojo ravished you. Exhilarated by your moans, he gradually began to thrust harder, obsessed with how your body trembled, pleading for more, praying for all of him.

"Fuck Y/N, you're taking me so well." Gojo complimented in a strained voice. He was vocal, and you loved it, yet you couldn't find the time to reply between your cries of ecstasy, becoming increasingly crazed. You could almost sob at how vivifying it felt.

All this time, he wanted to be this close to you, and now that he was, he needed to immerse himself in your cries and whimpers, smell you, taste you, and be enveloped by you.

"Is this what you wanted from me this whole time?" he teased, and his voice was so electrifying that even though he was still thrusting while trapping you down, your back began to arch against the desk, flush against him.

Shivers jolted through your entire body as you nodded furiously. "Yes, Satoru, so bad-ah!"

The pounding came next, so deep inside you, feeling every inch of your walls, feeling every inch of your body. Gojo moaned loudly, caging you between his arms, angled perfectly and deeply. You couldn’t look anywhere but his eyes as he thrust into you over and over again. It was so passionate, and you were a mess. Your moans mixed in with his, and it was all-consuming, it was life-changing, it was love.

It was what you imagined and so much more.

"Feels so good!" you whimpered, feeling your abdomen flood with pressure again, tightening, burning.

Gojo felt you clench around him, your body shaking. Only a few minutes had passed, and he wanted to last longer, but he couldn’t. You were too pretty, you felt too good. “Fuck baby-” he moaned. “Gonna cum-” 

He pounded into you a few more times until you cried out, gushing around him so sweetly that it was hard to pull out, he didn't want to, but he did. 

With your chest rising and falling sharply, your legs shaking and twitching, Gojo released himself with a loud, strained moan. 

"Fuck! Fuck, I love you…” he exasperated, covering your abdomen with his seed.  It was euphoric, the best he’d ever had. He leaned forward over you, grasping onto the edge of your desk, his strength and the power of his orgasm caused him to snap the molding off, completely denting and splintering the corner of your desk.

“Satoru!” you gasped, propping yourself up on your elbows. 

“Shit….” He grit his teeth in embarrassment, sheepishly scratching the back of his neck before bending down and searching for the box of tissues he saw earlier. “I’ll buy you a new one I swear-” 

And then, you started laughing. “It was that good huh?” 

“The best,” he confirmed, cleaning you up the best he could so you could slide your clothes back on. His legs were still trembling, though, and shit, he needed more.

“I love you too.” You stood on your tiptoes to kiss him. 

“Good enough to make you come back home with me?” 

“I would say perfect,” you smirked as he looped his arm around your waist. "Now I just wonder how much money Shoko is going to make on Monday..."

"What ever do you mean?" he asked with a goofy, lopsided grin, as if he wasn't close friends with her and unaware of the situation.

"She bet that we would get together..."

"Aww," he chuckled, looping your purse over his shoulder. "I'll double it since she believed in me," he said before whisking you away to his apartment, where the two of you immediately started round two.

[lasciviouspoison]

back with another chubby girl x ur fave post!!! hope y’all enjoy! this is a black reader x whoever post, but anyone can enjoy! catered to my fellow chubby girlz cause we rule the world <3

toji likes chubby girls. idc idc argue wit ya mama!

he always loved the idea of being able to surprise his pretty lil gf by picking her up like she weighs nothing and fuckin her anywhere he sees fit. <3

has 100% posted something along the lines of “i like bitches wit stomachs!! pussy always good and she soft!!” he def blew up on the net that day :/

but! needless to say, you came into his life shortly after.

you were a bit weary stumbling across him that sunny afternoon. seeing that fine ass 6’2, 280 pound man, completely covered in tattoos during your downtown walk was not in your cards for the day.

i mean, he looked scary as shit walking down the side walk. dressed in a short sleeved black compression shirt and black sweats, he seriously looked like he was getting ready to beat up the next person he saw. then the scar on his lip didn’t make him any more approachable looking.

you literally thanked your lucky star that you would enter your favorite coffee shop before having to walk past him. so imagine your surprise when you suddenly felt a tap on your shoulder while standing in line and seeing this same man give you the cutest smile.

he eventually convinced you to let him take you out later that night, and you’ve never looked back!

he constantly tells you “we don’t needa bed baby, i can hold you up jus fine”, with a devious look on his face. he thinks it’s funny when you get that surprised look when he fucks you standing up. he wouldn’t dare let his pretty baby sit on a dirty club sink, so, what better way to prevent that then by holding you!!

you absolutely love it. you’ve finally found a man that loves your weight and couldn’t care shit else about it. sure, toji works out like 6 times a week and is absolutely ripped, but he’d never make you work out unless you wanted to. and even then he’s questioning you, “why the fuck you wanna do that? you’re perfect the way you are, lil girl”. you just roll your eyes and rise up off the couch, but not before toji gives that ass a nice, hefty smack. of course you look at him like he’s crazy, but he just goes back to scrolling on his phone while biting back a laugh.

all of his friends don’t rlly get it, but he doesn’t give a fuck. seeing your pretty face and chubby cheeks makes him wanna giggle like a school girl, though, he’ll never admit it.

he’s also 100% the type to grab your rolls/stomach while laying in the bed. you look at him crazy every time and all he does is smile and give you a fat, wet kiss. “stop lookin at me ‘fore i put a baby in you”. suddenly ur eyes are wide open

ugh, toji just luvs the big gworls! :p

[zorosangell]

hiii! hope you’re doing good and I’d like to give in a suggestion, could you make a fic about gnreader being choppers mother figure and both zoro and reader are fighting for the parental role 😭😭

(they later on share it lol)

⛥ﾟ・。 endgame

synopsis: prequel to inn -- when chopper asks about your past, zoro reminisces on your history together... and is reminded of exactly what you are to him.

cw: THIS IS A PREQUEL TO INN, fluffly fluff, comfort, takes place pre-timeskip during alabasta, young reader is so cute, protective zoro, ZORO IS WHIPPED, i really loved writing this.

a/n: i really, really loved writing this

"Hey, Zoro!" Luffy called, eagerly. "Look over here! Look at what we're doing!"

"We're training!" Usopp added, clapping his hands together.

Begrudgingly, Zoro looked up from Chopper's fur, glancing toward the boys, who were standing under a huge stream of water like it was a ninja's waterfall.

"Real funny," he nodded, sarcastically, before returning to what he was doing.

After saving the kingdom of Alabasta, the king invited the crew to the royal bath, hoping to clean up after dinner.

The young doctor had asked for help washing his back, and the swordsman played it off as having nothing better to do.

But, in actuality... he enjoyed helping boy, feeling a sort of fatherly obligation toward him.

"Zoro?" Chopper piped up, quietly, eyes trained forward as the man went back to carefully scrubbing his fur.

"Yeah?" Zoro hummed. "What is it?"

"Do you know why (y/n) acts the way she does?"

Confused, Zoro raised a brow, unsure of what he was talking about.

"What do you mean?"

"Well... you know," the boy slightly stammered. "She's so nice... and kind... she cares for me so well even though I just joined the crew."

He looked down at himself, making sure to choose his words carefully.

"Even Doctorine didn't warm up to me this quick... but she treats me like she's known me all her life. And I figured since you two grew up together, you could tell me why."

'So, that's it...'

Zoro nodded, finally getting the picture.

"I see what you mean," he confirmed, moving on to the boy's shoulder. "(y/n)'s always been like that... even when we were kids. There's no rhyme or reason to it."

He glanced up, the memories rolling back like calm waves after a storm.

"She just... is."

"I thought I told you to stop following me! Cut it out!" a ten year-old Zoro exclaimed, glaring at you sharply.

"But... you're bleeding..." a nine year-old you reminded, worried, as you tightly clutched the handle of your first aid kit. "Kuina beat you up really bad this time."

"Shut up!" he barked. "I don't need your help! Or anyone else's! I'm gonna get stronger all on my own!"

You flinched at his tone, but held strong, despite the tears welling in your eyes.

"Well, you can't be the strongest if you can barely lift your arms!"

Zoro's eyes widened, surprised.

In your months of chasing him, attempting to patch him up, you had never raised your voice.

Not even once.

"I believe in you! And I wanna help you! So let's make a deal!"

Brows furrowed with determination, you pointed at him, firm in your disposition.

"Every night, I'll patch you up, and help you out with normal stuff, like food and clothes! And in return, you work your hardest to become the strong enough to beat Kuina! Sound fair?"

"No!" he scoffed, incredulously, and incredibly confused. "Why are you doing this?! You don't even know me! What do you get out of that?!"

"I get to watch you!" you grinned, jumping at the chance to gush. "You're so cool! And tough! I'm no good at sword-fighting, but you're amazing at it! I can tell you're gonna be a really great swordsman someday!"

Happily, you looked up at him, your starry eyes bringing a faint tinge of pink to the boy's cheeks.

"And I wanna be there to watch the whole thing!"

For a moment, Zoro paused to think, weighing his options before caving with a sigh, unable to say no to your hopeful smile.

"...Fine."

"YAY!"

Without hesitation, you pulled him into an embrace, overwhelmed with joy.

"Hey! Hey! Hey! No hugging!"

Zoro chuckled, moving the scrub brush to the young doctor's head.

You were the strangest, most persistent girl he had ever met... but the only one that believed in him from the very beginning.

Even if it was at your expense.

"What were you thinking?!" a twelve year-old Zoro scolded, haphazardly applying band-aids to all your cuts and bruises. "You know Haru and Kenzo are stronger than you. Why'd you try to fight them?"

An eleven year-old you sniffled, using the back of your hand to wipe away the stray tears rolling down your cheeks.

"They were making fun of you," you mumbled, looking down at your lap. "They said three-sword style was stupid, so I tried to punch them... but I missed and they ganged up on me."

"Did they, now?" Zoro glared, turning to the two boys next to him.

Quickly, he struck them both in the back of the head, giving them two giant welts and adding to their multitude of injuries.

"What do you two say to her?!"

"We'wre sowwy..."

Chopper lit up, relieved to her you had no ulterior motive in your kindness.

"(y/n)'s been this nice all her life? Wow! I wish I met her sooner! She sounds like a really great friend!"

Zoro nodded, fighting off the small smile threatening to rise to his lips.

"I was lucky to meet her when I did... her enthusiasm always gave me something to look forward to."

He sighed, dreamily reminiscing on the thought.

"Even when the future was unclear..."

"I can't believe it! We're actually leaving!" an eighteen year-old you squealed, watching the island of Shimotsuki get smaller and smaller as you clung to the mast of your small fishing boat. "This is so exciting!"

"I know," a nineteen year-old Zoro agreed, watching with an air of pride. "Feels like a new chapter. One step closer to becoming the strongest."

You nodded along, until you were suddenly hit with a thought, which forced you to sit down.

"But... I can't help but wonder," you started, glancing up at him. "Why'd you bring me along?"

He raised a brow, confused, and silently asking you to elaborate.

"You know I'm not very strong. Hell, I can barely throw a punch," you reminded. "I won't be much of a help..."

"All those years ago... didn't you say you wanted to watch me become the Greatest Swordsman in the world?" Zoro asked, rhetorically. "You can't do that cooped up in a dojo."

Your eyes widened slightly, not expecting such a straight-forward answer.

"I promised you I'd work hard to become the strongest. So you better believe you're getting a front row seat," he smirked, plopping himself down next to you, slightly rocking the boat. "You're stuck with me, (y/n). There's no backin' out now."

You replied with a chuckle, carefully resting your head on his shoulder, blissfully unaware of the flush on his cheeks.

"Thanks, Zo'."

He nodded, slowly and warily looping an arm around your shoulder, letting out a sigh of relief when you didn't move away.

"Don't mention it."

"Wow! I'm so happy!" Chopper cheered, jumping up from his seat. "I'm gonna go dry off and give her a big hug to say thank you for all the stuff she's done!"

Quickly, he turned to Zoro, his blinding smile warming the swordsman's heart—though he'd never admit it.

"Thanks for telling me Zoro!"

Without a word, Zoro nodded, and Chopper zoomed off back to the rooms, leaving the man alone with his thoughts.

Glancing at the divider separating the men and women's bath, Zoro listened closely, tuning out Luffy and Usopp's roughhousing to see if he could hear you.

And he did.

From beyond the great wall flowed in your silvery laugh, the delightful sound hitting his ears like the world's greatest song.

Closing his eyes, the swordsman rested his arm on his knee, and his cheek in his palm, allowing himself to fully experience its beauty.

God, he was so in love with you...

Words couldn't even begin to express.

You were the most consistent thing in his life.

His personal nurse.

His number one supporter.

His best friend.

His childhood crush.

If he was being honest, he didn't know where would've ended up if it weren't for you, or the person he would've turned out to be.

You taught him the value of kindness and compassion at such a young age, and were never afraid to wear your heart on your sleeve if it meant pushing him closer to his dream.

And you knew him so well.

He couldn't have found a better partner in crime if he'd searched for a thousand years.

Muscles relaxing, a small smile rose to his lips as your laugh floated into the air once again, accentuated by the occasional, adorable snort.

There was no one else in this world for him.

There would be no one else in this world for him.

You were absolutely, positively, without a doubt... his endgame.

[cherienymphe]

You Get Me So High

JJ Maybank x Reader

Warnings: DUB-CON, STEPCEST, loss of virginity, toxic relationship (JJ's kind of an asshole), jealousy, manipulation, underage drinking, drug use, brief Rafe x reader

➥ banner by @vase-of-lilies | ➥ divider by @firefly-graphics

summary: To everyone else, JJ is just being an overprotective brother. To you, he's being a possessive asshole.

⭑

You crossed your arms over your chest, watching with a scowl as Kie entertained some guy you’d seen throw a smile her way earlier. You were leaning against a tree, acting as more of an observer than an actual participant as the music from someone’s speaker reached your ears. The tanned girl looked like she was having fun. If only you could relate…

You took a swig of beer, swallowing down your bitterness with it.

The last guy you’d been talking to had been effectively scared off, his eyes widening slightly when a familiar arm snaked its way over your shoulder. You hadn’t needed to lift your gaze to confirm who it was, the sudden nervous fidget from the guy before you told you all you needed to know. Before the familiar blond had even managed to say anything, you’d let out a small sigh, disappointment weighing you down already.

“Don’t you have somewhere to be?”

Never mind the fact that he was overstepping into your personal life, but he had to be rude about it too.

The cute brunette had stuttered, face reddening at JJ’s words. Your heart sank at the sight, gaze pleading when his eyes met yours again, but by the look on his face, you could tell that this was one argument he didn’t think was worth it. Watching him mutter an apology before stumbling away, you didn’t know what you hated more—JJ’s behavior or every guy’s lack of balls to stand up to him.

“He’s an asshole, trust me,” was all JJ had said when you gave him an even look.

Without sparing him a word nor another glance, you’d stomped away in search of something to drink.

That was how you found yourself isolated from everyone else, watching your friends have fun—namely Kie—while you were reduced to standing in the corner. You didn’t see the point, to be honest. If you got too ‘wild’ JJ would come along trying to shield you from interested eyes, and if you dared to attempt a conversation with any guy, he’d come along telling them to get lost.

To anyone else he was an overprotective brother.

You knew better though.

“You’re so dramatic,” a familiar voice drawled, and you didn’t bother to even turn your head.

Taking another sip of your drink, you pursed your lips.

“How so?” you quietly wondered.

You felt his fingers graze your jaw, and you hated the way your lashes fluttered.

Hidden away in the dark, the two of you weren’t so visible, and you suspected that was the reason for his boldness. His fingers danced towards your neck, and your heart skipped a beat when one dipped beneath the collar of your shirt, grazing a mark you both knew was there. It made you shudder, and at that you slapped his hand away.

The blond sighed.

“I didn’t want you getting caught up with that guy,” he said. “I didn’t tell you to stop having fun.”

“You might as well have,” you snapped. “You always do.”

“…because your version of fun is shaking your ass against guys who wanna fuck you.”

“At least someone does,” you muttered into your cup.

JJ heard it loud and clear though despite the music and low volume of your voice. You could feel his gaze boring a hole into the side of your face, and you refused to look at him. You finished your drink, starting to toss it on the ground before thinking better of it. Kie would have your head.

“Don’t,” JJ finally said.

You swiveled your head towards him.

“Don’t what?” you wondered with a shrug, face even despite the fire you knew was in your eyes. “Don’t wonder why you don’t want to fuck me but don’t want anyone else to either?”

You watched him press his lips together at that, shoving his hands into his pockets as he glanced around. You hated the way he wouldn’t look at you now, so bold a moment ago. Eventually you rolled your eyes, softly scoffing to yourself before pushing past him.

You didn’t spare JJ another thought as you threw your cup away, finding John B. and asking him when he planned on leaving. You all were staying over at The Chateau, and you shouldn’t have been shocked to know he was going to leave when everyone else wanted to. Annoyed with JJ more than usual, you chose to take your chances and walk back.

You didn’t tell anyone.

It was summer, but the ocean breeze cooled the night air, and you wrapped your arms around yourself, wishing you’d at least had the sense to steal JJ’s jacket. Thoughts of the blond made you frown, and a sour feeling twisted deep within your gut. You longed for the days where your fights were just normal sibling bullshit—being accused of stealing his shirts and eating all of his chips and blaming the missing beer on each other.

Now, your fights were so far from normal sibling bullshit.

Your heart stuttered at the memory of his lips on yours, an impulsive decision after getting high in his bedroom one night. When he hadn’t pushed you away, you hadn’t known what to do, never expecting yourself to get so far. You were even more stumped when he kissed you back, his hand resting on your neck while the other dug into your waist.

You didn’t know why you hadn’t expected it.

Mixed in with those fights about clothes and food and getting on each other’s nerves were also moments that weren’t known by anyone but you. JJ had always been touchy, but the nights in which he’d brush your waist instead of your shoulder left you restless. Sometimes when Pope would say something especially silly, the blond would throw you a look that had you giggling.

…but then it would linger, and you’d feel heat cling to your cheeks, and you’d swear that he ran his eyes over you in a way a brother shouldn’t. When no one else was around, he’d pull you into his lap and rest his face against your neck and rub circles into the small of your back. Despite how much you laid awake at night thinking on these interactions, you told yourself you were imagining things.

Sure, JJ wasn’t your brother by blood, but that shouldn’t have mattered.

Your parents were married, and that made you siblings, and in the eyes of the law—and society—that made anything between you wrong…and illegal. With that being said, you hadn’t been able to stop yourself from overanalyzing every exchange, trying and failing to convince yourself that you guys were just close. That’s all.

…but with your parents out and a blunt being passed between you, you hadn’t been able to stop your brain from fixating on it. Ignoring the way the walls pulsed, you’d traced the even rise and fall of his chest. You’d watched his long fingers take the blunt, the low light glinting off of his rings, and you’d watched him bring it up to his pink lips. His hair had seemed messier that night, eyes bluer, and before you knew it…

You kissed him.

You and JJ kissed for what felt like hours, pawing at each other and dragging your lips against each other’s skin. You’d taken a few hits in between, and after some time, you’d just laid there…staring at each other and gently reaching out to each other and occasionally kissing some more. His dad had been God knows where, and your mom had been working, and when you woke up…

JJ pretended like nothing had happened.

That was how it always went ever since.

Sometimes you were high, sometimes sober, and you’d find yourselves wrapped up in each other. Kissing and biting at skin and pulling at fabric. You’d spend hours touching each other, leaving marks that only you two would know the origin of, and when things started to get out of hand, JJ would pull away, convincing you to do the same. The next day—sometimes even just hours later—it was like nothing ever happened.

You watched him disappear with countless girls at parties and said nothing. Days where you’d be with Kie and run into him and some unknown girl, you’d say nothing. When your eyes would zero in on a mark you know you didn’t leave, you’d say nothing. You bit your tongue, because you got it. You and JJ couldn’t actually be anything, not for real anyway, and even if you chose to be something in secret, you hadn’t decided that yet.

So, you understood it.

What you didn’t understand though was the way his presence descended over you like a dark cloud anytime you so much as laughed with another man. If one even approached you, here he’d come playing the protective brother role so well. John B. and Pope found it admirable, and Kie may not have agreed, but she understood. JJ was just being a good brother.

Only you knew it was because he didn’t want to chance anyone else fucking you.

“Are you crazy?”

That familiar voice pulled you from your thoughts, and you cursed yourself for being so wrapped up in your mind to not even hear the approach of a familiar vehicle. Huffing, you turned to roll your eyes at JJ as John B. slowed down. The blond was leaning out of the passenger window, but when John B. stopped, he completely hopped out.

He didn’t look happy.

“Are you deaf? You didn’t see me calling you?”

You hadn’t actually—your phone on silent—and that was what you told him.

“That’s a great volume for it to be at,” he sarcastically replied.

His hand was firm on your back as he pushed you towards the van, climbing into the back behind you as Pope took his place in the passenger seat. You sat as far away from JJ as possible—next to Kie—and you were more than eager to ignore the blond and involve yourself in the conversation they’d been having before spotting you. You could feel your brother’s gaze on you the entire time, and you didn’t spare him a glance.

“He just worries about you,” Kie quietly told you later when JJ was wrapped up in some debate with the two up front. “I don’t agree with how crazy he gets, but if I had a sibling, I don’t think I’d be too much better.”

You bit your tongue, fighting back a bitter smirk. How could you tell Kie that JJ’s ‘worry’ had nothing to do with genuine concern? How could you tell her that under the cover of darkness he’d kiss you and taste you and curl his fingers inside of you, but refused to go beyond that all the while preventing you from going beyond that with anyone else? How could you tell her that so much of your fighting lately was because he wanted to keep you at arms’ length while refusing to give you up?

JJ was a selfish asshole.

You were out of the van almost as soon as John B. parked, and you were searching for a t-shirt you knew you’d left over when the rest of them finally joined you. You could hear Kie searching for something to drink, and when Pope turned to you—a question on his tongue—you shook your head.

“No, I’m…I’m going to sleep in the van,” you exhaled, feeling emotionally drained. “I’m kind of tired.”

They tried to convince you of otherwise, but you waved them off. You could feel JJ’s eyes on you, and you only threw him a dirty look as you left. You felt a tad better after getting undressed, and you heaved a sigh after pulling the tee over your head. With a grimace, you realized it was JJ’s, and you both loved and hated that it still smelled like him.

Staring up at the roof of the Twinkie, you thought to yourself that this couldn’t go on forever. JJ couldn’t keep messing with your heart and your head, and realistically, you knew that if you wanted something of a life and normal experiences, you might have to distance yourself from your friends entirely. You couldn’t even talk to a boy with JJ around, let alone form healthy attachments that didn’t involve your own brother.

It's like he was keeping you in his back pocket, and you didn’t like it.

You were drifting in and out of sleep when you heard the van door open, and you weren’t concerned by your lack of alarm. You surmised it was one of the gang, but somehow you hadn’t anticipated that it’d be JJ. When his voice reached your ears, you were suddenly much more awake, and you leaned back on your elbows with a frown, watching him climb in and close the door behind him.

“No,” you snapped, fully sitting up, now. “This is my spot, and I don’t know what excuse you gave everyone else, but it was a waste because I don’t want you here.”

He ran his hand through his hair, fixing you with an even look that made you roll your eyes.

“I’m not here for that…”

“Sure,” you mumbled, pushing your back against the wall and crossing your arms over your chest.

“I’m not,” he firmly repeated. “Look, you’re mad at me and… I don’t like going to bed with us pissed at each other.”

“…and yet you do everything in your power to make that happen.”

“Y/N.”

“You’re such an asshole,” you finally hissed at him, tears kissing your eyes. “I can’t say shit when you’re off fucking God knows who, but if I so much as blink at another guy, here you come.”

JJ at least had the sense to look ashamed, his gaze lowering.

“You don’t want me, but you don’t want anyone else-.”

“I do want you,” he harshly whispered. “You have to know that by now, but I…”

You watched him take a deep breath, eyes troubled, and you pulled your knees to your chest. You didn’t move when the blond reached for you, the tips of his fingers grazing your leg, and you hated the way it made your heart race. When his gaze met yours again, you swallowed, finding it difficult. He ran those blue eyes over you, and the look in them was wholly familiar.

“I’m supposed to protect you,” he whispered in the small space. “When our parents got married, I thought ‘hey’. I have a sister now, and I need to look out for her and protect her from assholes who’ll try to get in her pants.”

JJ sighed, and it sounded frustrated.

“…and now I’m one of those assholes.”

You glanced away, frowning.

“…but I want this just as much as you, so who cares?”

“…and little kids want candy all day every day.”

“You do not know better than me, JJ Maybank! God, you would swear that you’re soo much older than me by how you talk down to me sometimes, but we’re one year apart, you ass!”

He had moved closer, now, a deep frown on his own face.

“We can’t be anything.”

It looked like it took him a lot to say that, and you looked between his eyes, chest aching at his words. They were true, but that didn’t mean they hurt or stung any less. With a deep breath, you blinked, jaw clenching.

“Fine,” you whispered. “Then stop kissing me.”

You watched his face fall at that, and you raised a brow at him.

“Stop touching me, stop sneaking around with me and crawling into my bed almost every night, JJ. Stop…stopping me from living a life I can actually experience in public.”

He didn’t like the sound of that, and when he turned away, you bitterly nodded.

“Yeah, that’s what I thought.”

You got close to him, tone haughty.

“You keep yourself from fucking me out of some sense of morality and integrity or whatever, but not only is the damage practically already done, you’re making it worse by doing the very thing you won’t let me do,” you choked out. “When you want me, you can find some girl to distract yourself with, but all I have is you.”

You moved away, grabbing your blanket and preparing to lie back down.

“How is that fair?” you muttered.

He didn’t respond, and you turned your back to him, staring at the inside of the van and just wanting him to leave. He laid down with you instead, and beyond annoyed and saddened by the conversation, you didn’t have the energy to tell him to get out.

You forced yourself to find sleep with your back to him.

You could taste blood on your tongue, but despite this, you couldn’t allow yourself to release your lip from the pressure of your teeth. JJ’s lips were pressed to your throat, leaving open mouthed kisses, his breathing heavy and uneven. Your own chest was heaving, and your hand was wrapped around his wrist. You liked the feel of it moving in your grip every time he thrust his fingers into you.

Your thighs were spread wide, JJ standing between them, and you could faintly hear the splashes of your friends goofing around in the water. You tried to be mindful of that, knowing that any moment now your prolonged absences would be noticed and investigated. You almost wanted to curse JJ for following you down here, but with his fingers curling inside of you, it was hard to remember why this predicament was bad.

Turning his head, he captured your lips in a kiss, and you were hungry in kissing him back. He tasted the inside of your mouth as his fingers stretched you out, wrist snapping between your thighs and making your toes curl. You knew that you’d have to jump in the water the very second you went back above deck, afraid to see what kind of mess you were making—the mess JJ was currently contributing to.

You hadn’t even realized he’d followed you until you’d turned to go back after grabbing your snorkeling mask. You personally hadn’t thought anything of John B.’s comment on your bathing suit, not unfamiliar with the casual flirtation from both him and Pope. It meant nothing, both of them remaining consistent in that behavior with Kie as well—something even JJ was guilty of.

So, you didn’t know why it’d set him off today of all days.

Maybe it had something to do with the fact that he hadn’t touched you in weeks. Between locking your door at night and skipping out on outings and just all-around distancing yourself more, JJ hadn’t even had any opportunities to get you alone. He talked a big game about wanting to do right by you, but at the end of the day, you knew that it’d be up to you to really put in some effort to ending this.

…and it was a good effort, but JJ was just more daring than you’d anticipated.

Cornering you and fingering you below deck of the boat with all of your friends just outside was something that you would’ve put even past him. It was too risky and stupid and had potential for drama you didn’t even want to think about. However, it was clear that his desire for you outweighed all of that.

When you gasped into his mouth, the blond cursed.

“Fuck,” he muttered. “Quiet…”

You wanted to tell him that you wouldn’t need to be quiet if he hadn’t basically attacked you, but you couldn’t find the words. His thumb was circling your clit, and three of his fingers were creating a delicious burn that had your lips parting against his mouth. Your free arm was haphazardly thrown over his shoulder, hips bucking against his hand. His free hand was digging into your thigh.

You hissed, struggling to speak.

“JJ,” you quietly whined. “I think… I think I’m about to…”

You couldn’t get the words out, but he understood them.

Pulling away from you, he dropped to his knees, fingers still pushing into your dripping cunt. He didn’t hesitate to lean in, burying his face between your thighs with his lips covering your folds, tongue swiping back and forth. The sensations had your eyes rolling, and when he sucked on the hood of your clit, your reached up to cover your mouth.

Your other hand twisted into his hair.

He didn’t stop thrusting his fingers into you even as you came, mouth still attached as well. You couldn’t stop the movement of your hips, feeling possessed as you lifted them in time with his wrists, fucking yourself onto his fingers and grinding against his face. He hummed, and the vibrations caused a shudder to crawl down your spine.

You felt like you were coming forever, dropping your hand and hissing when he lazily massaged your walls with the pads of his fingers. When he pulled them out, he dragged his tongue up your core one last time before sliding his fingers into his mouth. You were still catching your breath when he handed you your snorkeling mask, and you hated the sight of that small smirk dancing along his lips.

Pulling your bathing suit bottoms back into place, you hurried past him, uncaring if you bumped into him or not.

That was how it always went.

Outside of that first kiss, things were always on JJ’s terms, and sometimes you wondered if that first kiss was even an exception. After all, it had been years of flirtatious looks and teasing touches leading up to that moment. That kiss was something JJ clearly wanted—evident in the way he’d kissed you back—and you sometimes wondered if you would’ve even entertained such thoughts if it hadn’t been for him.

You hated how little control you seemed to have in this ordeal. You’d gone out of your way to do what JJ always claimed he needed to do, and what happened? The very thing you both knew you needed to put a stop to. Despite what JJ liked to preach, it seemed he was never going to let you go, and the unfairness of it all was really getting to you.

“Do you think he remembers that he already slept with her? Or are we witnessing a rare event, right now?”

Pope’s words created a heaviness in your chest, and you couldn’t stop yourself from looking at what they were looking at. JJ was indeed talking to a girl you’d seen him disappear with before, and the sight caused a burning sensation behind your eyes. You didn’t understand how JJ just didn’t care how shitty this was for you, and while they were distracted, you slipped away.

You were at a house party on Figure 8, a rare occurrence, and you had Kie to thank. The host wasn’t the average classist jerk, but he’d made it clear Pogues were only allowed if they were invited by a Kook, and Kie’s one foot in one foot out life came in handy. While your friends were distracted by the prospect of JJ sleeping with the same girl twice, you found yourself getting a drink in the kitchen.

When you felt someone brush against your arm, you thought nothing of it.

“I know you,” a voice said after some time.

Glancing up, you were greeted by a very familiar face.

“You’re JJ’s sister.”

Rafe seemed proud of himself for recognizing you, index finger pointed straight at you as he nodded. Unsure of what to say, you merely sent him a tight smile as you raised your brows as if to say ‘in the flesh’. You turned back to finish dipping your drink when he moved, and when you looked at him, he was leaning back against the counter, gaze curious.

“Don’t you usually have a bodyguard or two with you?” he hummed, a glint in his eye that promised nothing good.

You found that you liked it.

“They’re a little distracted at the moment,” you said with a roll of your eyes.

The dirty blond hummed to himself, and you didn’t miss the secretive smile on his lips.

“They’re slacking on their job,” he said, suddenly excitedly exhaling as he grabbed a drink of his own. “Which makes mine a whole lot easier…”

You gave the rich kid a look, and he rolled his eyes towards the ceiling.

“I’m heading upstairs. It’s a little crowded down here…and you’re welcome to join me…”

His blue eyes gave you a quick onceover before he brushed by you, and you tapped your finger against your drink, contemplating his words. Rafe was a rich asshole that was probably the closest thing any of you had to a mortal enemy—the guys especially. He was a classist dick who’d gotten into quite a few fights with your brother and your friends…but he would also fuck just about anyone.

You knew that Rafe was mainly motivated by your relation—blood or not—to JJ, and the effect it’d have on him if he knew Rafe had hooked up with you in any capacity. You also suspected that he probably had a hard on for slumming it with Pogues—some type of power imbalance kink going on there—but you didn’t care.

All you cared about was the fact that JJ kept pushing and pulling you without a care as to how it made you feel. He claimed he didn’t want to cross a certain line with you out of fear of becoming the very thing he’d sworn to protect you from, but you felt that line was crossed the first time his face had found refuge between your thighs.

Both JJ and Rafe were assholes…but not only was Rafe the kind of asshole to give you what you wanted, he’d also never pretend to be so righteous.

Rafe didn’t give a fuck about being righteous.

…and that was how you found yourself following after him, looking behind you to make sure you weren’t being watched by anyone who mattered. Rafe was just inside the hallway when you reached the top of the stairs, almost as if he knew you’d follow him. Was there an air of desperation that surrounded you or was he just that confident?

You grabbed onto his arm as he led you into a bedroom.

“JJ’s not looking for you, is he?”

His voice came from behind you as you glanced about the room.

“Do you care?” you wondered, looking over his shoulder to watch him dump a few pills onto the desk.

He chuckled to himself, perfect teeth winking at you.

“Of course not,” he quietly said. “He’s just always one step behind you, hovering over your shoulder.”

His tone made you tense, but his next words made your heart drop.

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d think that brother of yours wanted you for himself.”

You looked away, clearing your throat.

“…and I think you watch too much porn.”

When you looked at him, he was approaching you, now, softly laughing to himself. He pressed the tip of his tongue to the roof of his mouth as he studied you, that same glint in his eye that both scared and excited you.

“Maybe…”

You watched him place a pill on his tongue, and when he leaned in, you nervously let him kiss you, swallowing that same pill. Kissing Rafe wasn’t like kissing JJ. Never mind the fact that you didn’t feel any guilt or feel like this was wrong, but Rafe kissed you like he was trying to get you to have sex with him. It made your eyes roll, and when his hand landed on your throat, you reached up to touch it. He forced you to step back, and when the back of your legs hit the bed, you shakily sat down, his lips still on yours.

You knew that this was reckless—dangerous even—because Rafe didn’t seem the type to stop if you asked him to stop. It was a good thing you were angry and hurting and feeling petty because otherwise you didn’t think you’d be so sure of your actions, right now. You didn’t care about Rafe, and so you didn’t have any stakes in this—no concerns about your heart and your feelings and what tomorrow would be like.

Every time you kissed JJ, you felt like your chest was going to explode. You felt something for him, evident in the way it felt like getting stabbed every time you saw him kiss another girl. It was why you always gave in, not strong enough to seriously resist him every time he got his hands on you. Sometimes you protested as of late, sure, but they were shallow, only said out of obligation and always abandoned for what your heart actually wanted.

…and JJ knew this.

Maybe that was what made it hurt more, the fact that JJ knew what he meant to you and still kept you in this unfair corner. He had too much so-called integrity to go all in with you while simultaneously using other girls, but he was also too selfish to just let you go and live an openly romantic life. It was a constant push and pull that fucked you up…and also drove you to place your hand on the back of Rafe’s neck.

You were lying down now, the rich blond on top of you, and you’d long forgotten about JJ and your friends downstairs. It felt good to kiss someone who wasn’t your brother, and when Rafe’s hand found its way between your legs, you decided that felt good too. You gasped into his mouth, and you felt him smile into the kiss, fingers sinking into you.

“Shit,” he quietly hissed, dragging the word out as he kissed down your jaw.

You lifted your hips up against his hand, holding him closer the wetter you became. You were panting beneath him, hands running over him, and there was a bout of disbelief in the back of your mind—disbelief that you were about to lose your virginity to Rafe Cameron in some stranger’s bedroom at a party.

There were a few moments in your life where you’d swear that if you and JJ didn’t become siblings after you were already born, you’d think you were actually related with how telepathically linked you seemed to be. This seemed to be one of those moments, because it was as if he’d read your mind and knew exactly what you were up to.

When the door swung open, you were only startled.

It never occurred to you that JJ would be on the other side should someone come knocking.

It didn’t until you looked over, a protest already on Rafe’s lips when your gaze met a familiar blue one. Rafe’s words died in the air as he registered just who had interrupted you, and for a split second you took satisfaction in the way JJ’s eyes widened at the sight before him. He looked shocked and disgusted all rolled into one, something else glinting in his gaze you just couldn’t name.

Your satisfaction, however, disappeared as quickly as it came.

Any and every emotion in JJ’s gaze was quickly replaced by fury.

So much happened so quick, and before Rafe even had time to get off of you—an arrogant comment on his lips no doubt—JJ had grabbed the other blond and was already punching him. Your surprised shriek drew the attention of your friends who were apparently upstairs too…looking for you. You’d pushed yourself back further up the bed just as the room became more crowded.

Kie was the first to reach you, John B. and Pope hurrying to get JJ off of the older blond.

The other girl was saying something to you, and as you looked at her, you realized that this was the moment the Ecstasy chose to kick in. You were trying to focus on her words, but everything felt distractingly different, and you could only blink when she grabbed your lids, staring into your eyes.

She cursed.

“JJ, JJ!” she struggled to get his attention. “She’s high, we need to go.”

Those words seemed to whip him into shape better than any efforts from John B. or Pope, the blond immediately abandoning Rafe and making his way to you. When he touched your face, you could only smile at the feeling before remembering that you didn’t like him at the moment. When you jerked away from his hands, your brother heaved an irritated sigh.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” he muttered, grabbing you despite your protests.

Kie helped him, and you didn’t even care to look back to see if Rafe was okay. You only wanted JJ off of you, but considering your vulnerable state, you knew that wasn’t happening anytime soon. You were thankful the music was loud, no one privy to what exactly went on upstairs, worried the host might decide none of you were welcome back. Pope and John B. were close behind you three as you were practically walked to the van like a child.

Seated just inside the van, you looked away from JJ when John B. said he was going to start the vehicle. The blond didn’t like that, grabbing your face and making you look at him. His actions were met with a loud and painful slap, and the sting in your hand didn’t even bother you. Kie and Pope looked out of place as they glanced between you, wondering what they should do.

The silence was loud.

“Just get in the van, guys,” he slowly said. “We’re fine.”

Neither one of them looked sure of that, but accepting that this was something between siblings, they reluctantly did with Pope moving to the front. You could hear both of them talking to John B. just as JJ took your face into his hand again, fingers pressing into your chin and jaw. You didn’t miss the way his own jaw ticked as he looked at you, and you wondered what he was thinking about.

“Not here,” he quietly bit out, tongue pressing to the inside of his cheek. “Alright…?”

You felt your lips tremble, and you couldn’t stop a few tears from escaping, JJ’s face falling at the sight.

“You treat me like shit,” you whispered just loud enough for his ears only, leaning in closer. “I wish that I’d fucked him.”

JJ’s entire visage changed at that, a stricken look on his face as he seemed to realize Rafe hadn’t manipulated you or forced you into anything. His blue eyes were wide as he looked at you, something passing through them that you couldn’t place, and you didn’t care to figure it out. You only moved away from him, scooting back further into the van and lying down. When Kie offered you some water, you took it.

She patted your head as you lied back down, turning to answer some question from Pope just as John B. started the vehicle. As it purred to life, your gaze traveled to JJ who was sitting opposite you, his blue eyes never leaving you. He didn’t look happy at all, and even through your ecstatic haze, you found yourself wishing you had fucked Rafe just to make whatever was to come worth it.

JJ’s hand was tight around your wrist as he pinned it beside your head. The only sound in John B.’s bedroom was that of your harsh breathing and the rustling of sheets. That dull aching pain was still present from when JJ had first slid his cock into you, but it was overshadowed by the full sensation his fingers had never been able to give you. Your free hand pressed into the small of his back, and his teeth in your shoulder reminded you of how angry the blond was.

John B., Pope, and Kie had only stayed for a few minutes before leaving again, using the excuse of going by the store to get you things you’d need while you came down. You suspected they wanted to give you and JJ some privacy, hoping you’d argue whatever it was they thought you needed to argue out of your system. The brunette had told JJ that it was fine to put you in his room.

You should’ve known that things weren’t going to be that simple.

“Rafe?” he’d screamed at you, and the drugs in your system made his voice seem louder which in turn made your anger feel stronger.

“If you want me to say sorry, I’m not,” you’d tearfully whispered. “We aren’t together…and I can fuck whoever I want just like you do.”

Your words had given him pause, and you could see that JJ at least felt bad. You were sure he always felt bad, but it had never stopped him. Whatever moral high ground he’d been trying to stand on was backfiring, and in his attempts to not be the bad guy, he’d become the worst guy.

“How do you think that makes me feel?” you’d spat, although it didn’t come out as angry as you wanted. “You tell me that we can’t be together. That we can’t do this, and we can’t be anything…but then you kiss me and rob me of just about every first I have left and then you push me away. Over and over and over again.”

You hated the way your voice cracked, unable to get a handle on your emotions.

“That’s mean, JJ. Do you get that?” you angrily looked between his eyes. “You are so mean to me…”

Your voice shook, and JJ knelt before you, reaching for you, but you snatched your hands away. He settled for resting them on your thighs instead, seemingly at war with himself as he sighed.

“I’m not trying to be,” he slowly said.

“Well, try harder!”

Your outburst made his expression harden, and you hated the way he glared at you, now.

“Like you? Hmm?” he wondered, and you looked away. “You’re…you’re going to pretend like you weren’t trying to get back at me by going upstairs with Rafe?”

You rolled your eyes, lips parting as you pressed your tongue to your teeth.

“In a way…yeah…” you rolled your neck to face him again with a shrug. “…but I didn’t think you’d find out.”

JJ froze at that, looking stumped for the second time tonight.

“I thought you’d gone off with that girl!” you screamed, throwing your hand out. “You weren’t supposed to…”

You trailed off, avoiding his gaze once you registered the realization in his eyes. The room was deathly silent, and you wrapped your arms around yourself. You were struggling to hold back tears, throat feeling incredibly thick, and the more JJ just stared at you in silence, the more uncomfortable you felt. When he finally did speak, you almost didn’t hear him.

“You were going to have sex with him?”

You didn’t respond, feeling that your silence was answer enough.

“You were actually going to–look at me,” he sneered, taking your chin into his hand again. “You didn’t intend for me to find out? You were actually going to fuck Rafe Cameron.”

JJ’s blond hair was going every which way, courtesy of his hands running through it the entire ride home. You didn’t have a response he’d like, and he seemed to know that, just staring at you with wide eyes. Jerking your face out of his hold, you angrily wiped your cheeks.

“You treat me like something you keep in your back pocket, and you’re shocked I went upstairs with a guy I knew would make me feel wanted?” you murmured. “…and of course, it doesn’t hurt that you two hate each other.”

You watched JJ look away, swiping his tongue between his lips.

“You make me feel like there’s something wrong with me, JJ.”

He looked shocked at that admission, and you shrugged.

“I’m good enough to fool around with a little, but not good enough for there to actually be something between us…” you continued when he started to open his mouth. “…and you say its because you don’t want to be that guy you’d vowed to protect me from, but you’re already that guy.”

You shook your head at him.

“You know how I feel about you, and you tell me that we can’t be anything then okay, fine, I could accept that…but then you keep coming back to me! You ignore any kind of boundary I try to have to make things go back to how they were. You just,” you scoffed. “You do what you want, and I can’t do anything.”

“…because none of the guys on this island are good enough for you!”

His hands were on your shoulders, and his fingers kneaded into your skin.

“Including me,” he quietly added. “…I’m not good enough for you.”

He shakily exhaled, running his eyes over your face.

“…but the thought of you with anybody but me makes me want to be sick,” he slowly confessed. “No, its not right, and its not fair, and I’m sorry.”

You watched him stand again, running his hand down his face.

“…but that doesn’t make it okay for you to go upstairs with Rafe,” he told you, sounding angry all over again. “He is way worse than I could ever be.”

“Well, he’s not scared of you, so at least I know he’ll fuck me.”

JJ stared you down at that, and you stared back, entirely serious.

“When you’re trying to get over me, you get under someone else,” you reminded him. “I don’t see why I can’t do the same.”

JJ’s entire face clouded over, and you could see then that he could see the determination in your eyes. Whether it be tomorrow or next week, you were going to sleep with Rafe. You were tired of being hung up on someone you couldn’t have—someone who wouldn’t let you have him—and you didn’t understand why you had to endure lonely nights just because JJ said so. He wasn’t your boyfriend, he wasn’t your anything, and as he stared at you, you could see the realization on his features.

If he didn’t want you sleeping with anyone else, then he’d better come up with a damn good reason.

“Fine,” he relented, nodding to himself. “Fine.”

He approached you, grabbing your face and pressing his lips to yours. While you enjoyed the kiss, you felt that JJ was getting what he actually wanted too easily, and you turned your face away while pressing a hand to his chest.

“No,” you mockingly spat. “I didn’t have to practically beg Rafe-.”

Your words were cut off by JJ’s tight grip on your arm, and you nervously looked at him, swallowing.

“Do not say his name,” the blond forced out. “Do not bring up Rafe to me, right now.”

His grip made you wince, and you thought to yourself how far he would’ve gone with Rafe if Kie hadn’t stopped him. JJ was still pissed about the ordeal, no doubt recalling what he’d walked in on, but at the moment he was more focused on finally giving in to what he’d denied himself for years. Kissing you again, he forced you to swallow any more mentions of the Kook.

He was desperate to get you naked—and you felt the same—and he couldn’t stop kissing you the entire time. His skin felt so warm against your own, chest pressed against yours and hands following a familiar path. His fingers had only prepared you so much, and that was how you found yourself pressing your nails into his skin as he stretched you out.

Somewhere along the way, you remembered that this wasn’t your bedroom nor your house and that you two wouldn’t be alone all night. You lifted your hips to meet JJ’s thrusts, moaning into his mouth and pushing against his hand that had yours pinned. He pulled his lips away to kiss along your chest, curving his hips against yours and thrusting into you with a slow and steady pace.

With the X in your system, it felt like an out of body experience.

You threw your head back, chest arching up against his, shuddering at the feel of your skin grazing his own. When he let your hand go, he slid both of them underneath you, palms resting on your ass as he lifted you onto his cock with every thrust of his hips. You reached down to rest your hands on his wrists, toes curling. His face was pressed into the crook of your neck, now, and you loved the feeling of his tongue on your skin.

“It’s just you,” he murmured into your shoulder. “From now on, it’s just you.”

Reaching up, you twisted your fingers into his strands of hair, gripping them and playing with them. You felt like you were floating, your entire body buzzing and warm, and you could only dazedly nod at his words. When he lifted his head to look down at you, there was a peculiar look on his face, and then he chuckled.

“I forgot,” he breathed, pressing his lips to yours and talking into the kiss. “I know this feels fucking amazing for you.”

Hooking your arms under his shoulder, you held onto him as he plunged his cock into you. You couldn’t swallow anything down, gasping and mewling beneath him, begging him for things you couldn’t even comprehend. His hair touched your forehead when he pressed his own to yours, nose brushing yours as he stared into your eyes.

The bed shook beneath you, and deep within your mind, something in you felt bad that this wasn’t your bed. That thought reminded you that your solitude wasn’t permanent, and you heard yourself let out a small whine.

“They’re…they’re probably on the way…”

Your words died in the air, lashes fluttering and eyes rolling when JJ snapped his hips against yours. JJ shushed you, promising to make you come before they returned. Moments later, he kept that promise, and you held him to you as you trembled beneath him, clenching around his cock and milking him as he came moments after you did.

Everywhere he touched, heat bloomed, and you didn’t want him to let go.

“Sleep with me,” you murmured, frowning when he pulled out of you.

You could make out him looking for your shirt, quickly putting it on you, and JJ kissed your cheek once you were covered, lips lingering.

“I will when they’re asleep,” he told you.

As if he’d conjured them up, you heard the unmistakable sound of the Twinkie pulling into the yard.

“I’ll stay the night like I always do,” he promised you, moving to get dressed.

When he was decent, he sat on the edge of the bed, pulling you into his arms. Your head rested against his stomach, the walls pulsating and the floor moving a tad. JJ was saying something to you, but you couldn’t quite comprehend it, your mind already focused on something else.

“I won’t sleep with Rafe, JJ,” you heard yourself murmur, and he was silent, but you did feel his hand resting on the side of your neck, fingers grazing your jaw.

There was conviction in his tone as he brushed his thumb over your lips.

“You weren’t doing that, anyway.”