#are you guys actually dumb or is this all just an act?

[rosiebbydoll]

The Right Time - Sukuna x Reader - Chp. 5

Chp. 4 - Chp. 5 - Chp. 6

summary: Your life was blissfully chaotic. Being a single mom and raising a daughter with a bigger attitude than yours was a challenge, but you love every second of it. You decided to move to the city to be closer to work. You’ve been at your new apartment for about three weeks now and everything has been great. Until, your annoyingly hot neighbor decided to open his mouth.

cw: female reader, modern au (no curses), 18+, enemies(ish) to friends to lovers, mechanic!sukuna x librarian!reader, slow burn, fluff, smut, crack, angst, toxicity, Sukuna is emotionally constipated, Nobora is readers daughter, Choso and Yuji are Sukuna’s nephews, Toji is a present father in this, LOTS of family fluff, manga spoilers? (more tags will be added)

wc: 10.3 k (a lot happens)

chp warning: fluff, tension, angst, crack, toxic traits, mentions of violence, the kids being cute, LOTS OF TENSION

a/n: buckle up! we have a lot to un pack this chapter! enjoy! <3

It’s been two days since you asked Sukuna to go to dinner with Hiromi and his girlfriend. Two whole days since those ridiculous words slipped out of your mouth. Since you basically invited him on a date, even if it’s so totally not a date. But you asked, and he said yes.

On one hand, you’re relieved. Sukuna’s actually been really nice, surprisingly easy to be around. He’s been making jokes, texting you about random stuff, and generally being a pretty great “friend”—his own words, not yours, though it rings in your ears every time you remember it. You keep telling yourself it’ll be fun to hang out, to get to know him, to have backup at dinner with Hiromi and his perfect, intimidating girlfriend.

On the other hand, you’re freaking out. You’ve been denying this crush for a while now, stuffing it down every time it bubbles up. It’s so obvious, but you’re still pretending it doesn’t exist. Sukuna’s not the kind of guy you fall for. He probably has a girlfriend anyway. At least, you think he does? You haven’t really heard him doing anything through the walls in a while.

To make matters worse, it’s also been two days since Toji has said a single word to you. Not a call, not a text, nothing. Usually, you spend every other Sunday together. Sometimes you guys would just watch TV or make dinner with the kids. This week, nothing. Monday came and went and you figured maybe he’d text you first, but he didn’t. You didn’t even catch a glimpse of him around the complex.

Now, you’re just getting pissed. The anger simmers under everything you do, snapping at your nerves. If he’s actually mad about Sukuna, it’s ridiculous. Dumb as fuck, actually. Toji has no right to be mad at you for talking to your neighbor, for having your own life. You spend a lot of time with Sukuna now, sure, but Toji is a grown man. He could at least act like it and talk to you.

But this is different. This isn’t like your usual fights, the ones that blow over after a few hours or a night of sulking. You can always count on Toji to come around, to grumble an apology or make some half-assed joke that tells you it’s okay. But now it’s been more than 48 hours. This silent treatment is new, and it’s eating at you.

You find yourself replaying every conversation, every look, every tiny moment from the past week, trying to figure out when things shifted. The longer it drags on, the more unsettled you feel—like the ground under your feet is a little less stable than it used to be.

You’ve been working all day, fueled by a simmering anger toward Toji that somehow pushes you to get more done than usual. Every task you check off the list eases the stress a tiny bit. And you made sure to talk to Ino, because if you didn’t, he’d probably have exploded by now.

“So now it’s Toji? What the hell is up with the men in your life?” Ino teases, sliding a fresh cup of coffee across the table to you with a grin.

You snatch it up and take a grateful sip. “I sure know how to pick ’em, huh? But I don’t get why he’s just ignoring me. Look at this.” You hold up your phone, revealing the fifty-plus unread messages sitting there.

Ino leans in, eyebrows raised. “You think he’s got his read receipts turned off?”

You chuckle softly. “Doubt it. The guy took forever just to figure out emojis and reactions. I’m pretty sure he hasn’t even heard of read receipts.” You sigh and rest your head on your folded arms, feeling the weight of it all settle in your bones.

Ino’s face softens, and he reaches over to pat your head. “He’s probably just worried. Doesn’t want your new boy toy to hurt you.”

Your head snaps up, eyes blazing. “Not my boy toy,” you growl.

Ino bursts out laughing, shaking his head. “Alright, alright. Not boy toy. Friend. The friend you talk about nonstop.”

You roll your eyes but stand up, gulping down the last of your coffee. “Get back to work,” you tell him, trying to sound annoyed but not really mad.

He just laughs again, settling back into his chair to sip his coffee like he owns the place.

You shake your head and head back to your desk, the tension still simmering but somehow lighter from the brief distraction. The workday is finally winding down. You’ve spent the afternoon training some new staff, but you make sure Ino takes the lead on showing them how to close properly. He’s a natural at that kind of thing— bossy, confident, and just chaotic enough to keep things interesting.

You gather your tote, planner, and the basket of books you’ve collected for the kids and head toward the door. It’s just shy of three o’clock, and you’ve got to pick up Nobara before the afternoon melts away completely.

“Bye, Ino! See you tomorrow!” you call quietly as you step out.

He gives you a thumbs-up without missing a beat, pretending to know exactly what he’s doing with the new hires who are watching him like a hawk.

You breeze out the door and head straight for your car. It starts on the first try, and you smile a bit too hard, thinking of a certain someone who fixed it. You pull out of the parking lot and merge into the steady flow of traffic. The streets are busy but not overwhelming, the late afternoon sun casting long shadows and bathing everything in a warm, golden glow.

As you drive, your mind drifts to Nobara— imagining her little face lighting up when you pick her up, how she’ll probably chatter nonstop about her day, about Megumi, and the adventures they’ve had. You glance at the basket of books on the passenger seat, knowing it’s probably going to be a challenge to keep her calm through the car ride home.

The school comes into view, a sprawling complex of brick buildings and playgrounds. Cars are lined up along the curb, parents pacing with tired kids, some chatting, others scrolling on their phones.

You ease your way into a parking spot near the entrance, kill the engine, and let the quiet settle over you for a moment. Time to switch gears from work mode to mom mode and face whatever the afternoon has in store. You step into the school hallway, offering warm smiles to parents gathering their kids. The buzz of laughter and chatter fills the air, a blissful soundtrack to the end of the day.

At the far end of the hall, you spot Kento— surrounded by a small crowd of mothers fluttering their lashes and trying their best to flirt. He stands like an unshakable fortress, politely but firmly brushing off their flirtations. His cool, unbothered demeanor only makes him more magnetic.

He’s so freaking loyal and perfect.

You approach slowly, a smile tugging at your lips. “Hey, Kento!” You glance over to see Nobara and Yuji absorbed in the toy kitchen, the clatter of plastic pots and pans filling the space. Megumi is nowhere in sight.

Kento turns toward you, a soft smile brightening his face. “Hey, pretty lady. I’ve got something for you.” He pulls an envelope from his desk and hands it over.

You peel it open to find a wedding invitation inside. Your eyes sparkle with happiness as you give him a quick side hug. “Ahh! I’m so excited for you guys! I can’t wait!”

Kento’s cheeks flush slightly. “She told me to make sure I hand-delivered the invitation to you.”

You tuck the invitation carefully into your tote. “You better be careful, or I’ll snatch her up from you,” you tease.

He chuckles, shaking his head. “Let me go get Nobara.”

You raise a hand to stop him before he moves. “Hey, did Toji already pick up Megumi?”

Kento hesitates, knowing technically he's not allowed to say, but it’s you and Toji so he’ll budge this time. He shrugs and exhales. “Yeah, Fushiguro picked him up early today. I didn’t ask any questions.”

Your eyes widen, and you nod softly. “Oh, uh, okay. Thanks, Kento.” You watch him walk toward Nobara, whose eyes light up the moment she spots you standing in the doorway.

Suddenly, a presence looms behind you. “Hey, baby.” Sukuna’s warm breath brushes your neck, sending a shiver down your spine. You jump, startled.

“Jesus, Sukuna! Don’t sneak up on me like that!” you frown, trying to sound annoyed.

He laughs, low and teasing, as Kento approaches with Nobara and Yuji trailing behind.

“Hi, Mommy! Hi, Uncle Sukuna!” Nobara beams brightly.

You raise a brow at her calling him “uncle.”

“How’s my girl?” you ask, bending to hug her. She immediately launches into showing off the several art projects she’s proudly completed.

“Hi, Yuji!” you say, waving to him.

Yuji toddles up, yawning softly, and gives you a soft wave back, still looking very sleepy.

Kento leans close and mutters to Sukuna, “He didn’t take a full nap today.”

Sukuna sighs, bending down to ruffle Yuji’s hair. “Come on, brat. We’ve gotta go get Choso.” Yuji nods eagerly and gives you a quick hug before following Sukuna.

Nobara and Yuji clasp hands as they walk down the hall, and you wave goodbye to Kento, who stays behind talking with Sukuna.

You give them both a confused look. It’s weird to see those two conversing with one another. Sukuna seems like the kind of guy Kento would hate. But Kento loves Yuji, and so does Sukuna.

Maybe that’s how they get along.

Sukuna catches your expression and grins devilishly. “What’s wrong, baby?”

You frown, and Kento’s eyes widen in surprise. “Did he just call you ‘baby’?”

“Yes, ignore him-” you begin, but Sukuna cuts you off with a smirk.

“Yeah, she’s taking me out on a date this Friday.”

His smirk is lethal, and you fight hard to keep your face neutral.

“That is not what’s happening,” you say sternly.

Kento raises a brow skeptically while Sukuna laughs softly.

“Whatever. Bye, Kento,” you say with an eye roll, picking up your pace toward the kids.

Behind you, Sukuna and Kento’s laughter echoes down the hall, but you hold your head high as you leave the school, heart pounding faster than you’d like to admit.

Sukuna catches up behind you easily, his long strides matching your own as you both head toward the parking lot. You notice his car is parked right next to yours—which was not subtle at all.

The late afternoon light casts long shadows across the pavement, and the air is heavy with a silence that’s anything but comfortable.The kids trail between you two, their chatter replaced by quiet glances at the ground, fingers entwined as they swing their hands back and forth.

Sukuna’s gaze flicks over to you, his usual smirk softened by something more serious. “Hey,” he says quietly, falling into step beside you. “You okay?”

You hesitate, chewing on the inside of your cheek before nodding. “Yeah... just tired, I guess.”

He doesn’t press, but you can tell he’s not fully convinced. The silence stretches between you like a fragile thread, taut and ready to snap. After a moment, you force yourself to shift the focus, hoping to break the tension before it suffocates you both.

“Have you talked to Toji lately?” Your voice sounds smaller than you intend, brittle with the weight of all the things left unsaid.

Sukuna’s eyes darken for a fraction of a second, a shadow flickering across his face. He exhales slowly, running a hand through his hair as if trying to smooth out the knots inside. “Not since I drove him over to pick up his car Sunday.”

You glance sideways at him, heart tightening. The weight of unspoken words hangs heavy in the air. “Did he… uh, say anything to you?”

Sukuna’s jaw clenches, his eyes narrowing just a bit. “Like what?” His tone is flat, but you catch the edge beneath it. Even if Toji had said something, Sukuna wouldn’t tell you. He knows it would only make you more upset. Toji should be open and honest with you.

You mutter a quick, “I don’t know,” and turn to buckle Nobara into her car seat. Sukuna’s brow furrows, but he moves quickly, strapping Yuji into his own car. When he shuts the door and turns back to you, his gaze lingers, sharp and searching.

He can see the tight line of your mouth, the way you’re holding everything inside like it might spill out and drown you if you let go. He wishes, with a fierce, sudden ache, that he could pull you into a hug and let you unravel all the frustration, the confusion, and the ache you’re stuffing down.

You let out a heavy sigh, fists clenching at your sides as the tension coils tighter in your chest. “I just wish he’d talk to me. I don’t know what I did wrong.”

Sukuna’s voice drops, low and almost a murmur, like he’s speaking more to himself than to you. “Sometimes it’s not about what you did. Sometimes people just shut down.”

You swallow hard, the knot in your chest tightening until it feels like your ribs will cave in. “Yeah... I just hope it’s not permanent.”

He glances at you, something soft and rare flickering in his eyes, his vulnerability laid bare. “Hey, whatever happens, you’re not alone.”

For a moment, the world narrows to that fragile promise, hanging between you like a lifeline in the dark. Your chest tightens so much you feel like you want to cry.

You take a deep breath and force a smile. “Thanks, Sukuna. With all this sucking up, I might just have to take you on an actual date one of these days.” You laugh, and Sukuna chuckles, trying to distract you from his blushing.

You both quickly say your goodbyes, waving to the other kids who are still buzzing with leftover energy. You get in the car and smile at Nobora before you pull off.

As you drive, a strange sense of déjà vu settles over you. Your thoughts drift back to Sukuna—how weird it is that he’s become such a normal part of your everyday life. It feels natural, almost effortless, for him to be there as a friend. A steady presence. Another guiding light in the chaos.

You take friendships (actually, any relationship) very seriously. Time feels too short, too precious, to waste on anything less than wholehearted. So it stings all the more that the best friend you adore and cherish is shutting you out over what feels like the dumbest reasons.

Now, by some twist of fate, you’re forced to lean even more on Sukuna. It’s a lot to process. Too much, honestly.

You turn up the radio, letting the music wash over you. Nobara sings loudly in the back seat, and you smile at her sweet little voice. Another moment you don’t dare take for granted.

Sukuna slides into the driver’s seat after buckling Choso in the back and helping Yuji settle in beside him. The boys start to talk about their day, and Choso shows Yuji his Pokémon cards he traded at school. Sukuna listens to the boys’ chatter and his mind wanders, drifting inevitably to you.

He catches himself thinking about you—the way your eyes light up when you smile, the effortless way you carry yourself even when the world’s weight is dragging you down. Gorgeous and perfect in a way that makes his chest tighten. Not just your looks, but the fierce kindness you hide beneath your tough exterior. It’s maddening how much you’ve become this constant in his thoughts, a presence he can’t shake no matter how hard he tries.

He blinks, shaking off the feeling. Doesn’t mean anything. It’s just…you.

Pulling into the apartment complex parking lot, Sukuna kills the engine and steps out. Choso and Yuji stumble out behind him, rubbing their eyes, clearly ready for bed.

As Sukuna starts up the stairs, he spots Toji coming down from his apartment, hands jammed deep in his pockets, jaw clenched tight. Toji tries to avoid eye contact, but Sukuna’s not about to let him slip by.

He steps in front of Toji, blocking his path. “Hey.”

Toji freezes, then tries to brush past him, already starting to say something like “Hey, I’m kinda busy right now-”

But Sukuna holds up a hand, cutting him off. “She’s worried about you.”

Toji’s eyes flicker with surprise, a flicker of guilt. He stands there for a long moment, silent, the words sinking in deeper than Sukuna expected.

Without another word, Sukuna turns and walks away, leaving Toji standing alone on the stairs, the weight of unspoken words hanging between them.

It’s now been another two days since Toji last spoke to you. That’s four days with no contact. You even stopped by his office, but he wasn’t there. Whatever’s going on, he’s really making the upmost effort to avoid you, and it’s driving you insane.

By now, you’re beyond pissed. You’re fuming, actually. What the fuck is his deal? Is he jealous? Or just having a meltdown no one can explain but him? Either way, you would’ve been a nice, understanding friend, but now you’re planning the inevitable screaming match you’re going to have with him.

Nobara has been begging nonstop for Megumi to stay after school with her, but you keep making excuses, dodging the inevitable. You even considered just picking Megumi up yourself the other day, but your guilt kicked in hard. You couldn’t shake the feeling you’d be crossing a line.

Now it’s Thursday. Tomorrow’s the night—your “date.” Not a date, really, just a hangout, or whatever you want to call it to calm your nerves. But you still haven’t told Hiromi. You planned on telling him right after you asked Sukuna, but you were still in such a state of shock from your boldness. Now, the week has gone by so fast you have to tell him, or you could just show up with Sukuna?

No, that would be bad. Hiromi would pick on you the entire time.

Plus, you have to ask Hiromi to get his parents to watch Nobara. Toji is nowhere to be found, and you refuse to tell him you’re going out with Sukuna—he’d probably start a war. So, you have to bite the bullet and tell your baby daddy you’re bringing your very hot, annoying neighbor on this double date—that is so not a date.

You pull out your phone, hesitating for a second before dialing Hiromi’s number. The line rings and he picks up quickly.

“Hey, what’s up?” Hiromi’s voice is bright, but you detect a teasing edge.

You clear your throat. “Hey, so excited for tomorrow! I am going to bring someone with me.”

“Found you a little piece to bring so we can have a double date?” He hums in satisfaction.

“No! I’m bringing my neighbor…..Sukuna. I honestly didn’t want to be by myself and I kind of owe him dinner for fixing my car.”

There’s a beat of silence, then Hiromi bursts out laughing. “Wait, you’re actually bringing him?”

Your stomach drops. “Wait, do you not want him to come? I’m sorry, I’ll-”

Hiromi immediately interrupts you, “Of course I do. I’m just a little shocked. You have never listened to me the entire time we have known each other. This guy must be doing something right.”

You groan. “Hiromi, don’t start.”

He chuckles again. “When you two are married, I’ll be the first to say I told you so. And we are both excited to see you. It will be a great night, don’t stress.”

You smile despite yourself. “Alright, and can your parents please watch Nobara tomorrow? Toji’s busy.”

Hiromi’s tone softens. “Yes, I will text my mother right now. They will be more than happy to.”

You breathe out, relieved. “Thanks, Hiromi. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He laughs. “See you tomorrow.”

You hang up the phone and let out a deep breath, the weight of the conversation settling around you. Well, that’s one thing down. You tuck the phone away, a small flicker of relief mingling with the nerves still buzzing through your veins.

Nobara had Art Club until five again, and she somehow convinced Yuji to join. Without even bringing it up, Sukuna had offered to pick them both up, and you’d gratefully accepted.

Sukuna pulls up to the apartment complex with Nobara and Yuji buzzing quietly in the backseat. The sun is slipping low now, casting long shadows across the parking lot, but the warmth of the day still lingers in the air. Nobara’s fingers fidget with the straps of her bag, her latest art projects safely tucked inside, while Yuji watches the passing cars with wide-eyed curiosity.

Sukuna kills the engine and steps out, opening the back door with practiced ease. Nobara practically leaps out, chattering about the art club and how Yuji was surprisingly good at drawing. Yuji follows more cautiously, still clutching his crayon stained notebook as if it’s his most prized possession.

You’re standing just inside your apartment door when you hear the familiar thud of the car door closing. Turning, you see Sukuna approaching with the kids—his relaxed confidence somehow grounding even the chaotic energy of Nobara and Yuji.

“Hey,” he says quietly, nodding at you with that faint smirk you’ve come to recognize.

Nobara rushes forward, practically throwing herself at you. “Mommy! Guess what I made today!” You listen to her yap as you carry her inside the apartment.

Yuji tugs at your sleeve, shy but eager to show off his drawings.

Sukuna stands back, watching the exchange with a softness that’s easy to miss if you’re not paying attention.

“Where’s Choso?” you ask as you set down a plate of snacks on the low coffee table—an assortment of cut up fruit, cheese cubes, and Nobara’s favorite animal shaped crackers, all carefully arranged on a colorful tray.

The kids bolt off, giggling and yapping, disappearing into Nobara’s bedroom like a little storm of energy.

Sukuna stands in the doorway, arms crossed, watching the chaos with a faint smile. “The old man picked him up right at three, took him to get a haircut and some food.”

You nod, then notice Sukuna lingering, still standing just inside the door. You raise an eyebrow and grin, “Hey, you know you can come inside, right?”

He pauses, then smirks. “Oh? Drunky’s letting me in her house.” His laugh is low and amused, and you roll your eyes at his theatrics.

“Actually, scratch that. No Sukunas allowed. New rule.” You say in a mock-serious tone, and you both burst out laughing.

He raises his hands in playful surrender and steps inside, the moment awkward for a beat before he smoothly settles onto your couch like it’s his usual spot.

“You can have some snacks! Just don’t eat them all,” you holler as you change out of your work clothes and slip into some sweats and a baggy off-the-shoulder graphic tee.

You walk over to Sukuna, who is munching away on some cheese and crackers, and wittily take the plate away from him so you can have some fruit. Sukuna frowns as you take the plate away but almost watches you too intensely as you eat that strawberry.

“So, what should I wear tomorrow?” he asks, picking at the skin around his nails.

You plop down on the floor in front of him, smiling. “Honestly? I don’t even know what I’m wearing yet.”

Your eyes meet, and the tension breaks with a giggle. “Maybe skip the work clothes,” you joke, nodding toward his grease-streaked shirt. “You’re going to get my couch dirty.”

Sukuna throws his head back and laughs, sinking comfortably into the cushions.

“My poor couch.” You frown and toss a pillow at him.

He just smiles, and for a moment, you find yourself locked in his gaze. Just then, Nobara and Yuji burst back into the room. “Mommy! Uncle Sukuna!” they shout, rushing over and jumping onto your lap.

Nobara’s landing is light and quick, but Yuji’s enthusiastic hug nearly knocks the wind out of Sukuna.

Sukuna groans theatrically, clutching his ribs as laughter bubbles from all of you. Before you can catch your breath, he grabs a pillow and throws it right at you.

The pillow hits your side with a soft thud, and you immediately retaliate, grabbing the nearest cushion and smacking Sukuna across the face. His surprised laugh turns into a grin as he lunges forward and pushes you onto the couch.

Nobara squeals with delight, ducking behind the couch, while Yuji shrieks and dives at Sukuna’s legs. The living room erupts into a whirlwind of laughter and pillows being thrown in every direction.

You duck as a pillow sails toward your head, narrowly avoiding the blow, and fire back with a well aimed toss. Sukuna catches it midair, his eyes sparkling with mischief. “You’re going down, Drunky,” he teases, voice low and playful.

“Oh, is that a challenge?” you grin, your heart racing with a mix of excitement and nerves.

He nods, eyes locked on yours. “Absolutely.”

The kids cheer from their hiding spots, egging you both on. For a moment, everything else falls away—no worries, no unspoken words, just the pure, chaotic joy of the moment.

Pillows fly faster, laughter gets louder, and you find yourself drenched in the warmth of this strange, unexpected family you’re building.

After a few more rounds of pillow tossing and laughter, the fight starts to lose steam. Nobara collapses onto the couch, breathless but grinning ear to ear, while Yuji flops down beside her, his eyes heavy with exhaustion. You sink onto the floor, catching your breath and wiping the sweaty hair stuck to your face.

Sukuna sits back, a satisfied smirk playing on his lips as he watches the kids settle down. Then, his expression shifts-sharp and focused. He glances at his watch and suddenly sits upright.

“Shit,” he mutters. “I need to get Yuji back to the apartment before the old man drops Choso off.”

You nod, already standing and gathering the scattered pillows. “Yeah, I need to make dinner and give Nobara a bath.” Nobara and Yuji pout as they realize they have to leave each other.

Sukuna stands, brushing off his pants and moving toward the door. “C’mon, Yuji.”

You smile tiredly and watch Yuji run to the door while Nobara leans up against you.

“Night, you guys! Tell Choso we said hi!” you and Nobara wave.

He looks back at you, eyes softening for a moment, with Yuji holding his hand. “Night.”

The kids wave goodbye as Sukuna leads Yuji out the door, the quiet settling back into the apartment once more. You take a deep breath, already counting down the hours until tomorrow’s “date”—whatever that might really mean.

“Is Uncle Sukuna your girlfriend?” Nobara asks suddenly, and your eyes widen in surprise before your mouth bursts open with a laugh.

“Sukuna is a boy, Nobara. And he’s not your uncle,” you say gently, watching her nibble on her snacks spread across the coffee table.

She raises a brow, considering your words, then nods slowly. “So he’s your boyfriend. ’Cause Daddy has a girlfriend, and they smile at each other just like you guys do.” She hums thoughtfully, shoving another piece of cheese into her mouth.

Your eyes widen again as she climbs up onto the couch beside you. “And Yuji and Choso call him uncle, so why can’t I? I call Toji uncle.” You can’t really argue with that logic-especially coming from a five-year-old.

You roll your eyes and stand up from the couch. “He’s not my boyfriend, baby. He’s just Mommy’s friend. Like Uncle Toji.”

Nobara nods solemnly, then walks over to you with a bright smile. “Can we go see him and Megumi?”

“We can soon, baby. They’re just busy right now.” Your gut twists at the thought of Toji, and you wonder when the silence between you will finally break. You’ve given up calling or texting. It’s just not worth the heartbreak anymore.

Changing the subject quickly, you pull over Nobara’s little kitchen stool and pat it. “Wanna help me make dinner?”

Her eyes light up, gleaming with excitement as she nods vigorously.

“I was thinking ramen sounds good,” you say, heading to the kitchen to gather ingredients and ramen packets.

“Yummy!” Nobara chirps happily, following you eagerly.

Together, you start preparing the meal-boiling water, adding noodles, chopping green onions, and stirring in broth packets. Nobara tries to imitate your every move, her small hands carefully helping where she can, occasionally stealing a noodle to giggle about.

You and Nobara settle at the small kitchen table, steam rising from the bowls of ramen warming your hands. She slurps enthusiastically, noodles hanging comically from her lips as she giggles every time you pretend to scold her.

Between bites, she chatters about her day—how she showed Yuji a new art trick, how Megumi was funny, and how she wants to draw a picture for you. You smile softly, heart swelling at her innocence and energy.

But beneath the surface, your thoughts keep circling back to Toji and Sukuna. The silence with Toji weighs heavy on you, like a knot tightening in your chest. You wonder when—or if—that wall will come down. And then there’s Sukuna, whose presence both comforts and confuses you.

You watch Nobara’s bright eyes, her carefree laughter, and remind yourself to hold onto this moment, this small pocket of peace. Tomorrow’s “date” looms ahead, and with it, a whirlpool of emotions you’re not quite ready to face.

For now, though, there’s just warmth, noodles, and the soft happiness that only comes from being here, now, with her.

After dinner, you gather the bowls and stack them in the sink, the warmth of the meal still lingering in the cozy kitchen. Nobara bounces on her toes, her energy barely contained, but you know it’s time to wind down.

“All right, baby, let’s get you cleaned up,” you say, taking her hand gently.

She giggles, skipping ahead as you lead her to the bathroom. You run the bath, adding a generous splash of sleepy time bubble bath. The scent fills the small space, wrapping around you both like a soft hug.

Nobara climbs in, splashing happily as you help wash away the day’s dirt and crayon marks. She hums a little tune, the bubbles tickling her skin and her eyes growing heavy.

“You’re gonna stay with Nana and Papa tomorrow, okay?” you tell her as you scrub her body.

She nods her head and continues to try and count every single bubble. “’Kay, Mommy.”

You rinse her hair carefully, avoiding the tears and the protests, and wrap her in a fluffy towel, rubbing her dry with slow, soothing strokes.

In her pajamas, Nobara curls up in your arms. You carry her back to her room, tucking her in under soft blankets. She looks up at you with sleepy eyes, a small smile playing on her lips.

“Mommy, I love you,” she murmurs.

You kiss her forehead, heart swelling. “I love you too, baby. Sleep tight.”

As she drifts off, you sit beside her bed for a moment longer, watching her chest rise and fall with steady breaths.

Over on the other side of the walls, Sukuna is struggling to get the boys to bed.

Choso arrived home with Wasuke just as Yuji and the others were stepping through the door. Wasuke, always thoughtful, brought takeout, which everyone devoured in record time-no leftovers in sight.

After their grandpa left, the boys begged for some time on the Wii. They begged to play Just Dance, and the apartment quickly filled with laughter, shouts, and the sound of plastic controllers clacking against each other.

Somehow, instead of winding down, Yuji and Choso found a second wind. Within minutes, they were running wild around the apartment, shrieking with laughter—completely butt ass naked. Clothes lay abandoned in the hallway, a trail of shirts and socks marking their path.

Sukuna scowled as he watched Yuji and Choso chase each other around the living room, their laughter echoing off the walls. The takeout containers were already empty, stacked haphazardly on the coffee table. He’d barely finished cleaning up when the boys—now stripped down and shrieking—dashed past him.

“If you break something, you’re cleaning it up,” he warned, voice low and even. They ignored him, of course. “And put some damn clothes on!”

Sukuna prided himself on his patience with the boys. Sure, he could be a bit of an ass sometimes, but he usually kept his cool. Right now, though? He was one minor disaster away from losing it.

With a deep breath, Sukuna finally rounded them up, grabbing Yuji first and then Choso, who squirmed and giggled like little eels slipping through his fingers. He herded them toward the bathroom, his voice firm but calm. “Bath time, now. No more running.”

The boys protested briefly, but the promise of warm water and their favorite dinosaur bath toys softened their resistance. Sukuna filled the tub with comfortably warm water, just right to soothe and relax them after the chaos. He helped them climb in and let them tire themselves out in the tub.

The bath was short but effective, just enough to wash away the day’s dirt and burn off the last of their energy. When the bath was over, he wrapped them in fluffy towels and guided them to their beds. Yuji’s eyelids drooped, and Choso snuggled close, finally still.

Sukuna exhaled, a tired smile tugging at his lips. The apartment was finally quiet, the chaos of the day fading into silence.

He headed for the shower, letting the hot water wash away the exhaustion from a long day spent juggling work and wrangling the boys. After drying off, he slipped into a clean pair of boxers, feeling the tension in his shoulders ease just a little.

He hadn’t checked his phone all day—too busy, too distracted. Now, as he picked it up, the screen lit up with a barrage of notifications. Most were from Yarozu. Her persistence was almost impressive. He’d thought ignoring her would be enough to send the message he was done fucking around, but clearly, she didn’t get the hint.

Rolling his eyes, he left her on read and scrolled until your name appeared. The sight of it made him pause, a small smirk crossing his face. He typed out a quick message: “See ya tomorrow for our date, Drunky.”

Satisfied, he locked his phone and set it aside. The annoyance he once felt over how much you occupied his thoughts had faded; now, thinking of you was oddly calming as he drifted off to sleep.

Your phone buzzed, and you glanced at the screen. “Asshole,” the contact read, making you smile despite yourself. You typed back, “Not a date,” and set your phone down, the warmth of his message lingering as you slowly nodded off too.

Now it’s Friday morning. The day of the date—or whatever the fuck we are calling it—has finally arrived. Hiromi sent you a cheerful good morning message, telling you how excited he is for tonight. You lied and replied that you’re excited too, but in reality, your stomach is doing somersaults as you drive Nobara to school.

As you walk her inside, you spot Toji. He’s never here before you. That son of a bitch. You can’t help but frown as you keep walking. Nobara, however, doesn’t hesitate. She darts over to him immediately.

“Uncle Toji!” she cries, running straight into his arms. Of course, he picks her up and gives her a big hug.

“Hey, sweet girl,” he says warmly. Nobara wriggles out of his arms and rushes toward the classroom to find Megumi, but then she suddenly stops, realizing she forgot something important.

“Bye, Mommy!” she calls, waving as you’re already halfway down the hall. You smile and blow her a kiss.

You pause for a moment, watching her disappear into the room, then glance over at Toji and Kento. You give a quick, polite nod to the blond, but you can’t bring yourself to acknowledge your so-called best friend.

You turn on your heel and march out, your mind racing with all the things you’d planned to say if you saw him again. You were ready to tear into him, but now your heart just sinks. Maybe it’s time he gets a taste of his own medicine.

Kento lets out a low whistle and clicks his tongue. “You’re in trouble,” he murmurs.

Toji groans, “Big time.” He waves goodbye to Megumi and Nobara, then gives Nanami a nod as he heads out.

As Toji walks down the hall, he spots Sukuna with Yuji. Sukuna grins, “Oh, you’re alive? I thought you’d died since you decided to ghost me. Honestly, my heart’s a little broken,” he teases.

Toji scoffs and ignores the jab. “Hey, Yuji.”

Yuji beams. “Hi, Toji! Is Megumi here?” Toji nods, and Yuji gives Sukuna a quick hug before sprinting to the classroom.

Sukuna raises an eyebrow. “Ya finally going to be a big boy and talk to us?” he says, waving at Nanami before heading out with Toji.

“You still up her ass?” Toji retorts, pulling out two cigarettes-one for himself, one for Sukuna.

Sukuna pulls out his lighter and lights both, taking a deep drag. “More than ever, since you haven’t been around,” he chuckles.

A heavy silence settles between them. Toji knows he messed up. It isn’t fair to either of them. He needs to face his problems and grow the fuck up. Well, that’s exactly what his wife would have told him.

Sukuna breaks the tension with a smirk. “You’d better talk to her before she decides to marry me,” he jokes, heading toward his Mustang.

Toji just nods, watching the gravel shift beneath his feet as he slowly trudges to his Camaro, feeling the weight of everything he’s left unsaid.

Sukuna pulls out of the parking lot, dread hanging over him. Toji is his friend—has been for a long time. Not as long as you, but Sukuna still considers their relationship solid. He respects Toji enough not to try anything underhanded here.

He thinks he’s been on his best behavior around you, even if you make his heart ache and his mind go blank. He’s terrified for tonight. He knows you aren’t calling it a date—he doesn’t even think of it as one—but he’s still nervous to be around you. It takes everything in him to keep up that façade.

When he arrives at his shop, his employees are already busy opening up and working on cars. Sukuna lets out a groan and heads into his office. He genuinely enjoys owning the shop, but the one thing he hates about being the owner is the endless paperwork. Most mornings, he’s stuck behind his desk, handling paperwork and answering phone calls, instead of working with his hands.

But when the paperwork is done, he gets to do what he loves: working on cars and talking to customers face-to-face. That’s when he feels most at home. As the day drags on and evening approaches, his nerves return. He can’t stop thinking about tonight.

Meanwhile, at the library, you’ve been dodging Ino all day because he won’t stop teasing you about the so-called date. He keeps asking for every little detail and just won’t let it go.

You finally find some peace at your desk, cataloging the last of the books before you leave. Ino is busy giving a tour, and the new hires are being trained at the front desk. It’s been a smooth day. You even approved an elementary school field trip for next month and sent a few emails.

As you pack up to leave, Ino waves and winks at you. You roll your eyes, wave back, and head out to your car, trying to swallow the nervousness as the evening draws closer.

You get a text from Hiromi’s mom letting you know she’s picked up Nobara, and they’re taking her to see a movie. You quickly reply, then head straight to your apartment.

As you step through the front door, you slip your tote bag off your shoulder and hang it neatly on the hook by the entryway. You pause for a moment, taking a deep breath to steady yourself. Hiromi said you’d meet at 7:00 p.m., and it’s just now 4:00 now. You only have three hours to prepare. You’re determined to look and smell your absolute best for this evening, especially for this mystery woman—definitely not for anyone else

You walk into your bedroom and carefully lay out several outfit options across the bedspread, each one a possibility for the night ahead. Then, you make your way to the bathroom to begin your routine. You wash your hair thoroughly, letting the warm water relax you, then shave and exfoliate your skin until it feels smooth and refreshed. You massage oils into your skin and apply a soothing face mask, letting it work its magic while you brush and floss your teeth with meticulous care. Afterward, you check your reflection for any blemishes, quickly tending to any that you find.

Wrapped in a soft robe, a towel twisted atop your damp hair, you return to your bedroom and study the outfits you’ve arranged. Hiromi only said you were going to dinner, and you don’t want to be too overdressed. After some deliberation, you decide on a pair of light denim jeans, sleek black boots, a crisp black crew neck, and your favorite leather jacket.

For your makeup, you opt for a minimal, natural look: you brush your brows into place, dust on a bit of powder and blush for a healthy glow, and finish with a swipe of your favorite gloss. Then, you blow dry your hair making sure every piece is in place.

For accessories, you choose delicate gold earrings and the gold bracelet Nobara gave you last Mother’s Day—a sentimental touch that always makes you smile. You swap your bulky library tote for a sleek black purse, feeling the smooth leather in your hands.

Before leaving your bedroom, you make sure to slip your wallet into your purse because you promised Sukuna you’d cover dinner tonight. The clock just turned six, giving you plenty of time to get Sukuna and head to the restaurant, and Hiromi just sent you the directions.

You take one last look in the mirror and smile.

Okay, I’m ready.

Suddenly, there’s a sharp knock at the door. The sound jolts you out of your thoughts. Sukuna must be ready. Heart pounding, you grab your fanciest perfume and spritz it over your neck and wrists. You barely give yourself a second glance in the mirror before rushing to the door, not even bothering to check the peephole.

You unlock it in a hurry, swinging it open with a practiced smile, only for your face to instantly fall flat. Toji stands there, leaning against the doorframe, a faint smirk playing on his lips.

“Well, what’s got you all dressed up, pretty?” he drawls, eyes flicking over your outfit. His gaze lingers a second too long, and you scowl, tension snapping through your body like a live wire.

“What the fuck are you doing here?” you snap, voice low and sharp.

He shrugs, trying to look casual, but there’s something restless in his eyes. “I’m just worried about ya, pretty.”

You scoff, crossing your arms tightly over your chest. “Yeah? So you ignore my calls, refuse to let me see Megumi, and then just show up at my door like nothing happened? What the fuck is wrong with you, Toji?”

He shifts his weight, jaw tightening. “I was stuck in my head. I’ve been meaning to talk to ya. I should’ve answered, but I didn’t want to yell at ya ‘cause I was upset.”

Your anger flares hotter. “Why the hell are you even upset? What did I do? Do you even realize the things you’ve done lately? I let it go because I love you, Toji! But you-” You cut yourself off, breath shaking.

Toji sighs, running a hand through his hair. “He’s not right for ya, pretty. At least, I don’t think he is.”

You glare at him, in shock. “You have no right to tell me who’s right for me, Toji. And he’s your friend, too.”

“That’s exactly why I know he ain’t right. I know how him and Yarozu are.”

You arch an eyebrow, shaking your head in disbelief. “He’s a friend, Toji. And honestly? He’s been acting like a better one than you these past few days.” You shoulder past him, your anger simmering.

Toji’s face darkens, frustration etched deep in his features. “Really?”

“Yeah, really,” you spit back, voice trembling with hurt. “He’s even coming with me tonight to meet Hiromi’s girlfriend.”

He scoffs, bitterness creeping in. “You’ve barely even been with anyone before, so how the fuck do you know he’s just acting like a friend?”

You freeze, fingers tightening around your purse strap. “What did you just say?”

Toji exhales, voice softer but strained. “You’ve barely been with-”

“No, I heard you,” you cut in, voice icy. “Just making sure I wasn’t imagining it.” You let out a shaky breath, willing yourself to stay calm.

He bites the inside of his cheek, regret flickering in his eyes. Fuck.

You open your mouth, ready to unleash another retort, but Toji interrupts.

“Look what happened with Higuruma. It was just one night and you didn’t even know him.”

Your eyes widen, the old wound reopening. “Are you serious right now?”

Toji sighs, looking away, trying to avoid your deathly glare.

“I was young, Toji. I barely knew what life was. I think I have a better grasp of things now. Sukuna and I are just friends. That’s it.”

He tries to speak, but you cut him off, voice trembling with conviction. “I’m not the same girl I was back then. I’ve changed. I’ve grown. I’m not a fucking kid you have to keep worrying about.”

He looks at you, pain flickering in his eyes. “I just don’t want something like that to happen again.”

“Something like what?” you demand, stepping closer, your voice cold as stone. “Me getting pregnant?”

He stands there, not knowing what to say. You see the sadness in his eyes, but you’re ignoring it.

You glare at him, every muscle in your body taut with anger. “Get out, Toji. I don’t want to look at you.”

His face goes blank, the smirk wiped away, replaced by something raw and vulnerable.

“Pretty-” he starts, voice barely above a whisper.

“Get the fuck out,” you repeat, voice shaking but unyielding.

He hesitates, searching your face for something—anything—but you hold his gaze, unflinching, until he finally turns and walks away, leaving you standing in the doorway, heart pounding and hands trembling.

You feel the hot sting of tears welling up, sliding down your cheeks before you can stop them. Panic rises as you rush back to the bathroom, desperately dabbing at your face, trying not to ruin the makeup you spent so long perfecting. The last thing you need is for anyone to see you like this.

Suddenly, you here another knock at the door. Annoyed, you snap, “Toji, I said leave me-”

But when you yank the door open, it’s not Toji standing there. It’s Sukuna. He leans against the frame, looking unfairly good in a worn leather jacket, black jeans, his signature boots, and a crisp white t-shirt. His hair is styled just right, and tonight, his sharp features look even more irresistible than usual.

Your eyes widen as you immediately realize who it is. “Did you just called me Toji?”Sukuna’s lips curl into a smirk, but the moment he notices your tear stained face, his expression softens.

 “What’s wrong, drunky?” he asks, stepping inside without waiting for an invitation. You close the door behind him, grateful for the excuse to hide your face for a second longer.

You wipe your eyes, glancing in the hallway mirror to check the damage. “Toji stopped by. I made him leave,” you mumble, trying to sound casual.

Sukuna doesn’t buy it. He can see right through you, but he doesn’t push. Not yet.

He leans in, voice low. “Should we call your baby daddy-?”

You cut him off with a sigh. “No, I want to go. I need to meet his girlfriend. He’s always there for me, always does whatever I ask. It’s the least I can do.”

Sukuna nods, but you catch the way his eyes linger on you. Then you notice you both are literally dressed the same. “Hey, look! We’re matching,” you say, forcing a smile as you show off your jacket.

He laughs, a deep, warm sound that makes your heart skip. “I make it look better,” he teases, eyes glinting. He tries to hide how much he’s staring at you, how he could get lost in every detail of your face, but you catch the way his gaze lingers a little too long.

You roll your eyes and head for the door, locking it behind you. When you turn around, Sukuna is waiting, holding out two motorcycle helmets.

You groan. “We are not taking your bike.”

He just grins, ignoring your protest as he hands you a helmet. “My hair will get messed up!” you protest, but you can’t help but smile as you follow him down the hall.

Sukuna glances over his shoulder, eyes dark and playful. “You’ll still look good, even if it’s a mess,” he says, holding out a hand to help you onto the bike.

Your stomach flips, heat blooming in your cheeks. You try to play it cool, rolling your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile tugging at your lips—or the way your heart races as his fingers brush yours.

You swing your leg over the bike, the leather of your jacket warm and familiar against your skin as Sukuna steadies the machine beneath you. The city lights blur softly in the visor’s tint, casting a golden haze over the streets as the engine rumbles to life—a deep, steady growl that vibrates through your bones. 

When you finally pull up outside the restaurant, the engine’s growl fades. Sukuna helps you off the bike and secures the helmets in the bin. You take a deep, nervous breath and glance at him. “Okay, now I’m scared,” you admit, your voice trembling slightly.

He raises an eyebrow, a teasing smile tugging at his lips. “Why the hell are you scared?”

You fidget with your jacket zipper, looking down for a moment. “I want to make sure she likes me. Hiromi talks about her like she’s amazing, and if she’s going to be part of my life, I want to make a good impression.”

Sukuna’s expression softens, and he mutters, “I think it’ll be hard for her not to.” You catch the quiet sincerity in his voice and can’t help but smile.

You quickly pull out your phone to check your hair from the stupid helmet you had to wear. “You look fine.” Sukuna tries to sound annoyed and you softly smile, feeling the fire forming on your cheeks.

Together, you step inside the cozy restaurant, the warm glow of amber lights and the murmur of quiet conversations wrapping around you. It’s not fancy, and you’re grateful for that. Your eyes find Hiromi, who stands and waves you over with a bright smile.

 Without thinking, you reach out and grasp Sukuna’s arm, tugging him close as you make your way to the table. Hiromi greets you both with a broad, genuine smile before turning to the woman beside him. She rises with effortless grace, her serene expression and gentle eyes immediately soothing your nerves.

“It’s so wonderful to finally meet you,” she says, her voice soft but sincere. “Nobara and Hiromi have told me so much about you!”

You return her warmth, though your heart is pounding. “I’m so happy to finally meet you. Hiromi’s only ever had the nicest things to say.”

But Sukuna’s presence looms at your side, impossible to ignore. You suddenly realize you need to introduce him—except, as what? The question sends a jolt of panic through you, but before you can act, Hiromi is already extending his hand to Sukuna.

“Good to see you again,” Hiromi says cheerfully, and Sukuna flashes a grin in return and nods. You can’t help but stare—kinda a bizarre moment for you. Hiromi turns to his girlfriend, gesturing toward Sukuna. “This is the neighbor friend I mentioned,” he explains, but you know his big mouth probably told her more than what he’s letting on.

Sukuna then takes Hiromi’s girlfriend’s hand. She blushes faintly as he offers a surprisingly polite, “Nice to meet you.” He literally had that effect on everyone.

As everyone settles in around the table, Sukuna and Hiromi quickly slip into conversation, their voices low but lively, punctuated by the occasional laugh. Meanwhile, Hiromi’s girlfriend turns her attention to you, drawing you into an engaging discussion about her work. She shares intriguing stories about the unique challenges of teaching, her passion evident in every word. Her warmth and genuine curiosity make it easy for you to open up, and soon the conversation flows naturally, leaving you both smiling and eager to learn more about each other.

As the server arrives with menus, everyone takes a moment to decide. Hiromi opts for a classic miso soup, while his girlfriend chooses a delicate seaweed salad and a light grilled salmon dish. You settle on a comforting bowl of udon noodles that looked too good to pass up. Sukuna, scanning the menu with a sharp eye, orders a sizzling plate of teriyaki beef. Which surprised you because you thought he’d get the most expensive item on the menu. With all the orders placed and menus set aside, the table feels even more lively, the anticipation of the meal blending seamlessly with the easy flow of conversation.

Soon, a waiter arrives, expertly balancing trays laden with beautifully presented dishes. Vibrant colors and artful arrangements catch your eye. The air is thick with the mouthwatering aroma of grilled meats, fresh herbs, and subtle hints of ginger and soy that mingle invitingly above the table.

Everyone digs in, the first bites are met with appreciative murmurs. Laughter bubbles up naturally, breaking through any lingering awkwardness. Across the table, Hiromi’s girlfriend launches into a hilarious story from her latest psychology lecture. You can’t help but be drawn in by her and you honestly understand why Hiromi has fallen so hard for her.

You are pulled in by her gestures and infectious laughter. But beneath the table, something else demands your attention. Sukuna’s knee brushes against yours, just lightly at first, as if by accident. You glance at him, but his face is the picture of innocence, focused on the story.

A moment later, as the laughter around the table swells, his leg nudges yours again, firmer this time, lingering just a second longer. Your pulse quickens at the silent exchange, a secret current of energy passing between you. You try to focus on the conversation, but your heart was pumping so fast you were worried it would burst out onto the table.

Calm down. 

The evening continues lin a blur of lighthearted teasing, shared memories, and easy smiles. With each passing moment, the nervous tension that once knotted your stomach dissolves, replaced by a comforting sense of belonging. Between bites and conversation, you catch Sukuna’s gaze lingering on you. He decided on that instead of nudging your leg after you gave him a death glare.

As the hours slip by, the plates are picked clean and you’re all so full, stomachs about to burst. You all have now turned to a very expensive bottle of wine you all decided to share—Hiromi’s girlfriend insisted. The sweet red liquid coats your throat and the buzz is making you feel as bubbly as ever.

“So, how did you two meet?” She asks, swirling her wine and flashing a curious grin.

Hiromi stifles a laugh, and you shoot him a quick glare. “Oh, he’s my neighbor,” you reply, unsure how much to share.

She giggles, her cheeks flushed from the wine. “That’s so cute!” Her words slur just a bit, and you can tell she’s getting tipsy.

You smile politely while Sukuna and Hiromi exchange glances, both struggling to hold back their laughter.

As you all stand to settle the bill, she suddenly pipes up, “Do you guys wanna go play some pool?”

Hiromi raises an eyebrow, clearly surprised. You echo his confusion. “Pool? You mean, like, at a bar?”

She nods enthusiastically and links her arm with Hiromi’s, already heading for the door. The rest of you look at each other and shrug, amused by her spontaneous energy.

As you walk out, you start chatting with her about a book you just finished, getting animated as you describe your favorite parts. In the midst of your conversation, you realize Sukuna and Hiromi have already paid the bill. You turn, ready to protest, but Sukuna holds up a hand to stop you.

“Don’t,” he says flatly.

You huff, crossing your arms. “I said I would owe you,” you mutter, but he just waves you off with a smirk.

You all thank the restaurant staff and step out into the cool night air. Right across the street, neon lights flicker above a narrow doorway—a hole in the wall bar you’ve never knew was there before.

Inside, the bar is dimly lit and smells faintly of old wood and spilled beer. A couple of regulars nurse their drinks at the counter, and in the back, a battered pool table sits beneath a buzzing fluorescent light.

You and Sukuna team up against Hiromi and his girlfriend, the two of you standing side by side at the battered pool table. The bar’s dim light casts a warm glow over the felt as the balls are racked.

Sukuna cracks his knuckles with a confident grin. “Alright, rookie, watch and learn.”

You roll your eyes and cross your arms over your chest. “I know what I’m doing.” (Even though you haven’t played pool in years).

He just smirks, chalking his cue. “Whatever you say.” He lines up the break, and with a practiced stroke, sends the cue ball smashing into the rack. The balls scatter across the table, and a striped one drops cleanly into the corner pocket.

“Guess we’re solids.” Higuruma states as he claps his hands together.

Sukuna glances over, nudging you with his elbow. “See? That’s how it’s done.”

You pick up your cue, trying to mirror Sukuna’s stance, but the awareness of his eyes on you makes your hands clumsy. “Alright, coach,” you say, forcing a playful tone, “What’s the secret?”

He steps in behind you, close enough that you can feel the heat radiating from his body. His hands slide over yours, gentle but firm, guiding your grip. “Relax,” he murmurs, his voice low and teasing. “You’re holding it like you want to choke the life out of it.”

His breath fans against your ear, sending a shiver down your spine. The bar seems to shrink around you. His fingers linger a moment too long, his chest brushing lightly against your back as he leans in to adjust your arms.

You try to sound annoyed, but your voice comes out softer, almost breathless. “What happened to personal space?”

“Can’t help it if I’m a hands-on teacher,” he smirks.

You roll your, eyes ignoring Sukunas cocky remark as you watch the ball sink in. Sukuna gives you a proud smile and you suddenly have a burst of confidence in your pool skills.

Hiromi and his girlfriend take their turn. Hiromi moves with the easy confidence of someone who’s played before, while his girlfriend giggles, clearly a little more than tipsy now but just happy to be included.

Sukuna, on the other hand, is laser focused. You notice the way his jaw tightens every time he lines up a shot, and how his eyes narrow with determination. He hates losing and it’s obvious. It’s oddly attractive, though a little intimidating, watching him calculate each move with almost predatory precision.

The game flows with playful banter. When you suddenly miss an “easy shot”, Sukuna throws his hands up in mock despair. “Seriously? That was your shot?”

You glare at him, feigning outrage. “I’m tipsy, alright? Cut me some slack.”

He laughs, shaking his head. “You can’t blame everything on the drinks.”

Hiromi chimes in, grinning. “She does that a lot.” His girlfriend giggles, not quite following, and you shoot Hiromi a look. You would flip him off if you weren’t trying to make a good impression.

When your turn comes around again, Sukuna leans in, voice low. “Aim a little left. Trust me.”

You take a breath, line up your shot, and with guided ease, the ball drops into the pocket. You spin around, grinning. “Hey, look! I did it!”

Sukuna’s eyes light up. “Told you. You’re a natural,” he says, his tone half-teasing, half-proud.

Hiromi’s girlfriend claps from across the table. “You guys are killing it!”

You flash Sukuna a playful smirk. “We make a pretty good team, huh?”

He just shakes his head, pretending to be exasperated. “Don’t let it go to your head.”

As the game goes on, Sukuna’s skill and your growing confidence help your team pull ahead. When the final ball drops, Hiromi’s girlfriend claps her hands, her smile bright and a little wobbly. “That was so much fun! You guys are seriously good.”

Hiromi stretches, looking genuinely relaxed. “Thanks for coming out tonight. I needed this.”

You nod, feeling the warmth of the evening settle over you. “Me too. We should do this again.”

His girlfriend laughs, swaying slightly. “Next time, let’s try something I’m actually good at.”

Sukuna grins, cocky as ever. “I’m ready to win again whenever you are.”

She winks back. “We’ll see about that.”

Then she leans in for a quick hug. “Take care, okay?” You give her a hug right back and nod.

As everyone gathers their things, Hiromi pulls his girlfriend close, giving you a grateful smile. “Thanks for tonight. It was great to see you both. I’ll call and check on Nobora when we get home!”

Hiromi waves as you and Sukuna head for the door. “Alright, text me and let me know how she is!”

Outside, the night air feels even cooler after the warmth of the bar. You and Sukuna walk side by side letting the city consume you both.

“Not bad for a rookie,” Sukuna says, bumping your shoulder with a sly grin.

You roll your eyes, but you can’t hide the smile spreading across your face. “You’re just lucky I was on your team.” He laughs, and for a moment, everything feels exactly right.

As you both continue your walk, a comfortable silence settles between you. The only sounds are your footsteps echoing in sync along the sidewalk. Above, the city lights shimmer and dance, casting a glow on the streets and painting your faces with flecks of gold and silver.

For a while, neither of you speaks. You simply share the quiet, each lost in your own thoughts, yet somehow perfectly attuned to each other’s presence.

After a few moments, Sukuna clears his throat, the sound breaking the spell of silence. He glances over at you, his expression uncertain but earnest, as if searching for the right words before he finally speaks.

“Hey.”

You turn to look at him, curiosity flickering in your eyes. “Yeah?”

He hesitates, his gaze dropping to the pavement for a moment. “I’m… sorry.”

You raise an eyebrow, tilting your head to the side. “Sorry? For what?”

He lets out a breath, almost as if he’s been holding it in for days. “For when I first met you. I shouldn’t have said any of that bullshit. I was out of line.”

You stare at him, surprised by the unexpected apology. “Wait, what? So you do know how to say sorry!” A teasing smile tugs at your lips. “I thought you were just being nice to me because you’re the type who can’t apologize without it hurting your precious pride.” You giggle and give him a light pat on the back.

“It’s fine, Sukuna. Honestly, I got to let off some steam by yelling at you.” You flash him a genuine smile.

He stops in his tracks, momentarily breathless. His heart pounds in his chest, and he can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you.

This is bad. So fucking bad. He’s down bad—worse than he’s ever been in his life. Nearly two months have passed, and still, you haunt his every thought. He’d told himself it was just a passing crush, something he could shake off with a few cheap distractions and a little time. But now, standing here, staring into your eyes, he realizes just how wrong he was. He’s past infatuation—he’s drowning in you, pulled under by a tide he doesn’t want to escape.

You notice he’s no longer beside you and turn, confusion flickering across your face. Before you can even ask what’s wrong, he closes the distance between you with a few quick, purposeful steps.

Suddenly, he’s right in front of you, so close you can feel the heat radiating from his body. His presence is overwhelming, his crimson eyes locking onto yours with an intensity that makes your breath hitch. Your heart is pounding in your ears. The world seems to shrink, focusing only on the intense connection between you.

He closes the remaining space between you, every heartbeat thunderous in your ears. His hand lifts—fingers trembling slightly before they graze your cheek, brushing away a stray strand of hair. The air feels charged, your breath caught as his touch sends a shiver racing down your spine. He leans in, his gaze flicking from your eyes to your lips, lingering there. Your pulse stutters as his lips hover, barely a breath away, the world narrowing to this single, suspended moment. All of a sudden, your phone buzzes sharply in your pocket.

You pull away, startled, fumbling for the screen. The electric connection with Sukuna snaps, leaving you breathless and disoriented. 

It’s Hiromi.

“Hello?” you answer, voice tense.

His voice is tight, urgent. “Nobora’s at the ER.”

summary: ahhhh! please don’t hate me for leaving it on a cliff hanger lmao. I promise everything will be answered and hopefully Toji can start acting right soon enough🙂‍↕️

I think I have a pretty good updating schedule planned for this. i’ll usually post by the end of the week. if not, i’ll try to update you before hand. your girl has the summer off and you bet your ass I’m going to try to write as much as I possibly can before I start work again. I will also be uploading this on A03! once I get it uploaded I will update my links.

as always, please let me know how you felt about this chapter. I really hope you enjoyed it. I love you all so much and I’ll see you next week for chapter six! I hope you all have the best week <3

taglist is open: please comment and let me know if you want to be on it!! (:

@sukubusss @poopooindamouf @emochosoluvr @777pluto @bookfreakk

@withtanxp @pandabiene5115 @fava-boi @not-aya @jkslvsnella

@saltypuffin1040 @zeppelid @miakxn @iseeyouuu @storiesbyparadise @flowerpot113 @mullermilkshake

@bestwomanalive @nessca153 @puran-poli

[shanatypewriter]

Hey shana my girl XD!

I am honored to drop my first request ever in tumblr to you babes

So something simple and casual?but whatever i know you gonna nail it Hcs on dating the boo crew! characters?all of them thanks you mwah <333

✦Heading: Dating the Boo crew [requested]

✦Characters: Logan Walker, David "Hesh" Walker, Elias T. Walker, Keegan P. Russ, Thomas A. Merrick, Kick. ✦Fandom: Call of Duty: GHOSTS ✦Type: Headcanons ✦Genre/Tone: Fluff, hint of romance

Logan Walker – The Quiet Softie⭑.ᐟ

── .✦⛧| Love language: Acts of service. He’ll fix things before you even notice they were broken.

── .✦⛧| Dates: Long walks, hiking trips, or just lying in bed with arms around you in total silence.

── .✦⛧| Affection style: He’s not big on PDA, but he’ll touch your hand lightly or lean into you when no one’s watching.

── .✦⛧| Quirks: He remembers every tiny detail about you, like your go-to snack or how you take your coffee, and surprises you with it.

── .✦⛧| Vibe: He’s the calm presence who grounds you. If you’re having a rough day, he just knows without you saying a word.

Hesh Walker – The Golden Retriever Boyfriend⭑.ᐟ

── .✦⛧| Love language: Physical touch and words of affirmation. He’s always hugging, teasing, or complimenting you.

── .✦⛧| Dates: Beach days, impromptu road trips, or late-night food runs just for fun.

── .✦⛧| Affection style: Playful kisses, especially forehead ones. He likes pulling you into his lap or tackling you onto the couch.

── .✦⛧| Quirks: He'll send you memes, dumb voice notes, or selfies with weird filters while on missions—he’s the comic relief even from afar.

── .✦⛧| Vibe: High-energy, chaotic good. Loves making you laugh, and gets very pouty when you beat him at video games.

Extras for the biggest Hesh fangirls: Big on physical affection. Always slinging an arm around you, even in the middle of nowhere. His hugs are all-consuming. Teases you constantly—but with a boyish charm. If you're sarcastic back, he’ll be so into it. Wants to share everything. His music? Memes? Weird dream he had? You’re the first to hear about it. Protective but not controlling. He gets a little jumpy if he thinks you’re in danger, but trusts you to handle yourself. Takes you on dumb but endearing “dates.” Think: racing in shopping carts, midnight gas station snack runs, or arguing over the best chips flavor. Talks about you to Logan. You’ll hear “I told my brother this funny thing you said” more than once.

Elias Walker – The Protective Dad™ Who Loves Deeply⭑.ᐟ

(If dating him hypothetically in an AU or non-canon situation where he’s not your actual dad figure)

── .✦⛧| Love language: Words of wisdom and acts of care. Always giving advice, even if you didn’t ask.

── .✦⛧| Dates: Quiet lakeside getaways, barbecues, or slow walks down memory lane. He's sentimental (MY SHAYLA MRS WALKER WE MISS YOU).

── .✦⛧| Affection style: Gentle and old-fashioned — opens doors, kisses your hand, and holds you like you might break.

── .✦⛧| Quirks: Always knows what you need before you say it. Keeps a photo of you in his wallet.

── .✦⛧| Vibe: Like dating a lion. Warm, strong, and deeply loyal. He’s the “once in a lifetime” type.

Keegan P. Russ – The Quiet Protective One⭑.ᐟ

── .✦⛧| Love language: Quality time and quiet companionship. Just being near you is enough.

── .✦⛧| Dates: Target range sessions, rooftop stargazing, or quiet late-night drives.

── .✦⛧| Affection style: Subtle — A hand on your back when walking, a quick glance to check you're okay, or brushing hair from your face. But when alone? Soft kisses, long silences, arms wrapped around you tight. Calls you “darlin’” or “sweetheart” in a low voice that melts you.

── .✦⛧| Quirks: He doesn’t say "I love you" often, but when he does, it's low, soft, and real. He remembers what stresses you out and actively shields you from it. (Because he's Keegan Protective Russ)

── .✦⛧| Vibe: The guy who doesn’t talk much but would absolutely kill for you. A silent ride-or-die with a secret soft heart.

Extras for the biggest Keegan fangirls:Not big on words, big on presence. He shows his love through action: patching you up, remembering how you like your coffee, making sure you're on the safe side of the sidewalk. Loves the silence with you. Sitting together in quiet is his version of peace. No need to fill the air—he just likes being near you. Dry sense of humor. You’ll catch it if you pay attention—deadpan one-liners, a perfectly-timed eyebrow raise, or subtle sarcasm. The man is quietly hilarious. Protective in a quiet, effective way. He’ll walk behind you in a crowd without saying a word. If someone crosses a line, they’ll feel him before he even opens his mouth. Not big on PDA, but sneaky with it. A hand on your lower back. A quick squeeze of your hand before parting. A subtle brush of fingers against yours when no one’s watching. Late-night conversations. You get the most from him at night—gravelly voice, shadows on his face, the rare emotional truth slipping through.

Thomas A. Merrick – The Gentle Grizzly Bear⭑.ᐟ

── .✦⛧| Love language: A mix of acts of service and protective presence. He doesn’t always say how he feels, but you feel it in everything he does—from the way he carries your coat, to how he instinctively positions himself between you and potential danger, even casually. He’s the one who makes sure you’re safe, fed, warm, and well.

── .✦⛧| Dates: Think slow weekends in a cabin, with his arm around you while you sip hot coffee together and the fireplace crackles in the background. He enjoys calm, intentional time: farmer’s markets, quiet bookstores, and cooking meals together (he makes a solid chili and insists you stay out of “his kitchen” while he’s at it).

── .✦⛧| Affection style: Big, grounding hugs that feel like armor. He holds you like a weighted blanket with a heartbeat. You could fall asleep on his chest and not move for hours. Not flashy with PDA, but always has a hand on your back or shoulder when in public. He’s also the kind of guy who’ll tilt your chin up with a finger when you’re upset—bear strength meets soft eyes..

── .✦⛧| Quirks: Checks the locks twice before bed. Lowkey writes little notes or leaves coffee on your desk without a word. The kind of man who says “text me when you get home” like a command, not a suggestion—but not because he’s controlling, because he worries.

── .✦⛧| Vibe: Extremely stable, emotionally mature. Will listen without interrupting and back you up without question. Feels like home. He makes you feel safe—not just physically, but emotionally. He’s your wall, your shelter, your quiet strength in chaos.

Kick – The Chill Tech with Hidden Sass⭑.ᐟ

── .✦⛧| Love language: Gift-giving and tech support. He’ll upgrade your phone without you asking or program a custom ringtone just for when you call. (Oh my, HERE KICK, RECHARGE MY SIM)

── .✦⛧| Dates: Movie marathons (sci-fi, thrillers, or anime), gaming co-op nights, or museum trips (he loves aerospace exhibits).

── .✦⛧| Affection style: Leans back on the couch and casually holds your hand while explaining some obscure tech fact you didn't ask for. Shy with PDA, but flashes you that soft smirk that’s reserved for you.

── .✦⛧| Quirks: He remembers weirdly specific things you mention—like your favorite old TV jingle or that one app you miss. Might surprise you by recreating them.

── .✦⛧| Vibe: The guy who hacks military satellites for work, then makes grilled cheese with avocado and tells you useless but charming trivia like how penguins propose with pebbles.

[dammit-tazmuir]

Some dumb lyctor polycule ancient history headcanons (+ canon interpretation rambling) like five people will care about but still

-

John is quoiromantic bisexual and A— was aromantic bisexual. They met earlier, maybe like grad school ("he could have gone anywhere, but he stayed with me"), and became very close affectionate friends with benefits. M— was straight ("was"; Mercy over time shifted to be masc-leaning bi; I'm still sorry I know this is my hottest take) and when she came along as an expert for the cryo project, both the guys went "oh hot damn wow." Then they talked to her for five minutes outside of business and A— went "fucking yikes nevermind" and John went "OH HOT DAMN WOW."

John and M— got closer over time and it was Very Different than his relationship with A—. Not better or worse, but different, which made A— and M— resent each other all the more. John and A— had never wanted to put a label on things, but A— was still pretty jealous and it still felt weird to John to consider dating someone, and listen the communication was messy and not ideal but it did happen, and this led to John and A— reclassifying each other as real "partners" (albeit still platonic ones) around the same time John and M— started dating. (Everyone consenting despite the conflict.)

In A—'s mind, M— was devaluing his relationship with John just because it was platonic and acting like she was better. In M—'s, A— was being a whiny pissbaby to act like he had dibs when he wasn't even in love with the man. Both of them were in fact being petty judgmental bitches who eventually grew to respect the other's bond but always thought of their own attraction style as superior. ("You never loved him as much as I did...") Basically A— was convinced his yellow cake was more pure and simple while M— thought her fancy extra icing vanilla cake showed more effort and devotion and John was over here going !!! TWO CAKES :D

(Un)Fortunately A— and M— were both extremely stubborn and competitive and it wasn't JOHN'S fault the other was insufferable, I mean maybe it was a little bit for having bad taste, but like, they cared very deeply about and wanted to be with him so they weren't gonna push him away, that'd be stupid. And okay MAYBE the other's intellect was at least admirable and it got kind of impressive that neither gave up and maybe they get to a point where they actively enjoy being catty bitches who can consistently match each other's wit. Maybe they start to notice John hates it when they fight "too" much but also really likes it when they fight over him if they do it right, and maybe they've realized through work that they do synergize really well whether they like it or not, and maybe sometimes it's fun to conspire to make him really really flustered.

Maybe John is incredibly endearing as a person and his brilliance and passion for the project and for helping people in general never fails to blow either of them away, and they're both so inspired by him that they'd follow him anywhere, but he is also more devoted to the job than to either of them and not really the most attentive person in a relationship. And maybe they don't mind that but they do like how intensely they can get the other's attention even if it's technically negative and it's exciting and unfortunately the other has always been really attractive and God dammit they're fucking about this aren't they.

They both feel horrible after the first time and expect John to feel betrayed but it's actually super fucking embarrassing how excited he is about it. Like not even in a "maybe now we can do threesomes" way (I mean that's not a NON-factor just not the main one), but because !!! LET'S GO you see it you understand I TOLD both of you the other was great. He'd tease them both so much at first. I'd say fully the vibe of "you like Krabby Patties, don't you Squidward?" but it's John and it was probably just directly that reference at least some of the time.

Also listen he's self-aware enough to realize he's not an ideal partner and whatever they wanna do with each other takes that much more pressure off him so?? this is a win-win all around in his eyes. (Maybe that's not exactly 100% true and in the back of his mind he is just a little paranoid they'll end up only wanting each other and leaving him, but 99.9% of that is stamped out with a bit of time to prove they still care about him. The 0.1% lasts for eternity until the night of the murder but still.)

For a while A— and M— both softened quite a bit, still constantly fought and both adamantly agreed this didn't make them partners, but it got to a point it was like 60% doing a bit. Still a significant amount of very real getting on each other's nerves but they're kinda sadomasochistic about it now, and they also really deeply respect and value each other. Their routine looks ridiculous from the outside but it becomes deeply comfortable to the three of them, and while John still wishes they'd tone it down a little more, overall all three of them reach a point it's difficult to imagine things any other way.

And then the project gets shut down and John made a scapegoat as an excuse to do it. M— breaks down crying, and John goes numb instead even though part of him feels all the worse for not being able to cry with her, but A— does, and they're both determined to stay with John no matter what, and he's so infinitely grateful for them.

(For G— and C— too. C— comes as a surprise to him, and she'd been a lovely person to work with before but skyrockets up his special people list because she stays. G— has been his favorite person in the universe for years and still is, even if A— and M— now share that title with him. Incidentally John would have at any point dated G— in a heartbeat if G— was remotely interested Like That, but he wasn't and that was also fine, it didn't actually make much difference to John as long as he could keep him close in some capacity.)

And then John has magic apparently and shit gets worse and worse and worse and worse and then John watches M—'s best friend shoot herself and in a moment of desperation catches her soul and becomes aware of earth's. And half from the trauma of witnessing that, half from the sheer overload of awareness he's suddenly processing, he walks around mostly dissociated, mechanical, watching people drop like flies and pluck, pluck, plucking each of their souls, idly wondering at how it seems like everyone is fighting because of him yet doesn't even seem to notice him now. And he's so numb, almost watching from outside his body, but then A— and M— are there dragging him behind the table and holding his hands so tight that it pulls him back to himself just a little. A— cries about how John was one of the best things in his whole life, they both were, and M— repeats like a mantra that they're together, they'll go together, at least they're together. A— in a stupid moment tells them both to run and tries to play distraction, but is shot dead. A moment later, M— is dragged out and with her dying breath begs them to please just take John alive, and they shoot her too.

And "this is the part where I hurt you." John fully snaps and acts in fear and desperation as much as rage. He can fix it, he knows he can, he has to, he's sure he can figure out how. He just needs this all to stop, needs everything to stop, needs to make sure this never happens again, needs the bastards responsible to pay. They'll ruin anything they touch no matter where they go and they deserve to die, and if he dies here then who's left with the power to fix anything? He can fix everything, he can, he can, he just needs more power. C— always said he had to choose between salvation and retribution but he doesn't, it's both, the power from their deaths can help him fix it right? It's just so hard to think, the earth itself is screaming and screaming, he needs it to stop, needs everything to stop so he can think and figure out how to fix it.

But actually no in the time it took you to read that last paragraph everything already happened so fast and there are already nukes going off and it's not enough and he's tripping over bodies as he runs outside and falls to the earth and tries to eat it and can't. He's vomiting from grief and exertion and the dirt he's shoveling in his mouth. And he finally realizes he's gonna need a vessel, and in the course of a second thinks if he's doing this to her he should at least make her new form perfect, and his idea of perfect is being 7 years old playing with mum's old dolls.

And then they slip through his grasp anyway, and it's just him, and Alecto, and all these souls he snatched up, and the fear that no one will ever laugh at his jokes again, that if he was wrong about being able to figure out how to put them back together he'll just be stuck like this for eternity.

Thankfully he does! He can Fix It so it's Fine and it Definitely Didn't Matter. It matters so little and he's so totally fine with it and definitely feels he doesn't deserve blame at all but you know let's make sure to erase everyone's memories of what happened just in case. Turns out it requires a new name to have a new life but he can just alter their memories so they believe they've always had those too.

He could alter anything about them, really, could make Augustine and Mercymorn crazy about each other and make them the happiest triad there's ever been... but no, he does not want that, he wants them, as close to what they were as he can make them. He does not like change and this is already so much. At the very least he wants his same friends and partners at his side helping figure out all these changes with him.

And then he fails to account for how much time alone will change them eventually...

[doesnotloveyou]

the way other fanfic writers write boys and men tells me a lot of you have never observed men interacting in the wild much less had male friends of your own. he literally wouldn't do that

[caulfect]

y’know. something that gets overlooked often is kate’s video, and the confirmed implications of it.

whether you believe nathan assaulted kate or not, this doesn’t take away from the fact she was canonically sa’d by multiple boys at the vortex club party. there are no names given, but we know this is undoubtedly true due to the video’s existence as well as everyone talking about the contents within said video. we also know that kate was visibly out of it in the video given max’s remarks when she finds it on victoria’s computer, and that passed out girls are a common sight at vortex club parties given the unresponsive student across hayden at the end-of-the-world bash :

regardless of where you stand on nathan’s involvement, it is undoubtedly obvious that kate is a victim of sexual assault. she was drugged and then mauled by a group of boys who could probably tell something was wrong, but just didn’t care enough to check. after all, as victoria puts it, people get wasted all the time … how are they supposed to protect or care for every which one of them? ( excuses! )

lis:1 in general has always handled sexual assault with nuance so rarely found in media. they do not make harsh lines in the sand about what ‘counts’ or not. they do not make a show of brutalizing the women on our screen via borderline fetish content like most do when discussing themes of rape. instead, there are undertones : max in lis:de, for example, treats the dark room like a sexual assault trauma specifically. she also goes through her own victim blaming by harping on how attractive she found jefferson, how much she wanted to marry him … this occurs in her nightmare as well, where max behaves as though she wanted what happened, what jefferson did to her, when we know she didn’t. obviously, max was not raped. she was not kissed or groped. but there is an underlying sexual gratification jefferson gets from framing her -- there are perverted comments whispered in her ear, she’s being posed with her purity being talked about, and she is being photographed in a vulnerable, helpless state. it just paints a picture. max comes out of it well aware that jefferson was into it, into seeing her that way, and he moved her while she was unconscious and took his sick photos and that’s enough for the trauma to settle in the sexual assault category. most people wouldn’t count it as that, but the game itself does. the dark room has always been a heavy handed look into young girls being abused and preyed on by older men. it is not shocking that it’s one big metaphor for sexual abuse as well, especially sexual abuse that is demeaned and invalidated by others, sexual abuse that isn’t believed. cue jefferson’s whole character. a man who is too perfect and beloved to suspect. a man who told kate to her face that she’s just seeking attention and likely enjoyed what happened to her. a man who got away with such remarks.

the newspapers go out of their way to claim there isn’t any evidence of sexual assault among the victims, and i believe that’s because they weren’t assaulted in the only way the public cares to look, which is penetrative sex. i could also see the article lying, as papers do, but i think it paints a more prominent picture of how weird people are about sexual assault victims and how downright demanding they are about what counts, what doesn’t, and what’s okay for victims to do or say about their own experiences. it is all rather disgusting, honestly! and i’ve always been enamored by the more complicated, unpopular takes lis:1 took with that plot. i feel like to harp on sexual trauma that genuinely isn’t confirmed and to then ignore the girls’ actual sexual assault ( jefferson, the vortex club ) does a rather huge disservice to the game’s more interesting themes. to put it plainly, it’s a major simplifying tale of the story.

[elegy-for-the-present]

Guys, I'm going to be honest here for a second. I personally think ranking F1 rpf ships in terms of which is more "valid" / makes the most sense is extremely silly. I don't think any of them are in love with each other in real life (not romantically, at least; some of them are good friends and that's also a valid form of love). Writing fiction is about creativity, about exploring human behavior in a controlled environment, about painting pictures with words and yes, also about having fun. No rpf pairing "makes sense". All of them are made up. A good writer can take any ship and make a compelling story out of it, because fanfiction is not about replicating canon, that would be silly, canon already exists. It's about taking the canon and extrapolating a different version of the story, studying what outcomes would change if we change some of the circumstance in which the canon facts have happened.

[serendark]

.

[lazaruspiss]

wanting your mom to like you is a self imposed hell

[tortoise-teapot]

want to post about long time blorbo roy mustang. do not want to interact with majority of roy enjoyers

[time-was-over]

i feel like i’m dying. like the insides of my soul are sloughing off and im so fucking alooone it’s agonizing

[urmum-lovesme]

Bunny (P10)

Rafe Cameron x Maybank!Reader

summary: Struggling to keep her and JJ’s home afloat, Y/N turns to the only option that guarantees fast cash- stripping at a club on the Cut. But when Rafe Cameron catches her in the act, he sees the perfect opportunity to tighten his grip around her life.

a/n: Guys- #roadtrip! (this aint no godamn roadtrip.) Lets seeee, this is actually pretty sad but then again bunny and rafe have me in a chokehold. oh and since everyones been dying and sobbing on there knees for it- JJ redemption :)

warnings: mentions of pregancy sickness, anxiety, abortion clinic, an abortion, sad bunny but soft!Rafe

(P1) (P2) (P3) (P4) (P5) (P6) (P7) (P8) (P9) (P10) (P11) (P12) (P13)

The dock was quiet, only the sound of the water lapping against the wooden posts filling the night air. A few dim lights flickered overhead, casting long shadows across the worn planks. Y/N sat perched on a stack of crates nearby, a small bag slung over her shoulder, her fingers gripping the strap absentmindedly. The night air was cool, the wind rolling in off the water and she exhaled slowly, watching the way her breath disappeared into the darkness. Her body felt tense, an anxious energy humming beneath her skin and it wasn’t just the cold keeping her on edge.

The sound of boots against wood made her lift her head, and there he was- Rafe, moving toward her in dark clothing, a baseball cap pulled low over his face. She huffed out a small laugh at the sight.

"You look dumb."

"And you don’t?" 

He countered, raising an eyebrow as he gestured to her own cap lightly before stepping beside her. He took a glance around the dock, assessing, scanning, before finally exhaling and leaning against the crate beside her. She looked out at the water, pulling her jacket tighter around herself.

"Thanks for coming with me,"

She said, voice quieter now, like she wasn’t sure if she should say it. He turned his head toward her, studying her profile for a beat before looking back out at the water.

"Of course."

Rafe watches her from the corner of his eye, the way she stared out toward the oncoming ferry, her face unreadable in the dim light a dark shadow covering half her face due to her cap. He asked, his voice quieter this time, not pushing, just… checking.

“Are you okay?”

She blinked, like she wasn’t expecting the question, like she hadn’t even realized she’d been staring for a few seconds too long. She blinked, small but harsh, then followed it by a forced nod,

“Uh, yeah- let’s go.”

Rafe didn’t quite believe her, but he didn’t push. Instead, he reached out, taking the bag from her shoulder without a word and to her own surprise- she let him- watching as he placed it on the opposing shoulder which had his own bag. She followed after him silently as he stepped onto the ferry nearing the empty entrance. The ticket attendant, a tired-looking man in a navy uniform, scanned their tickets. He glanced at the names printed on the peices of paper and read aloud,

“Mr. and Mrs. Walker?”

Y/N furrowed her brows slightly, eyes flicking to the ticket in the man’s hand before turning to Rafe. Before she could say anything, she felt the warm weight of his hand press lightly against the small of her back as he stepped forward smoothly. “Yeah,” Rafe says with an easy grin.

“Me and my wife are just going for a short trip.”

The man barely spared them a glance, nodding as he handed the tickets back, “All good—enjoy your journey.” They stepped past the checkpoint and as soon as they were out of earshot, Y/N whispered,

“Mr. and Mrs...?”

Rafe couldnt surpress the small grin tugging at his lips, eyes ahead as he lead them toward the deck, “I thought you didn’t want to be recognized...” He murmured, voice dripping with amusement.

“Or should I have put your name down as Bunny?”

She scoffed, rolling her eyes as she elbows him, “Shut up, smart ass.”

Rafe just chuckled, pushing open the door to the ferry’s indoor seating, the cool night air following them inside. Yet as he pushed Y/N hesitated for a moment before speaking,

“...Can we sit outside?”

Rafe paused, furrowing his brows as he looked down at her, “Why would you want to do that? It’s dark as hell out there.”

She huffed, crossing her arms, “I’m pregnant Rafe—I get nauseous all the time. At least outside, I’ve got fresh air.”

His eyes narrowed slightly, studying her like he’s trying to figure out if she’s being truthful or just making an excuse so he does what she wants. After a beat, he exhaled through his nose, shaking his head as he muttered, motioning toward the door that leads to the deck.

“Go on then”

Without hesitation, she pushed through it, stepping out into the crisp night air. A breeze rolled over the ferry, cool and salty, and she breathed it in deeply. She didn’t have to turn around to know Rafe was following right behind her- she could hear his heavy steps. She settled into one of the worn seats, putting her bag he'd passed her on the floor next to her before shifting to get comfortable. The air was cool against her skin, the faint hum of the ferry’s engines vibrating beneath her. Rafe sat down next to her, stretching his legs out and leaning back slightly. He watched her from the corner of his eye, and it didn’t take long for her to notice.

“What?”

She asked, her voice carrying a little edge, like she’s too tired to deal with whatever comment he’s about to make. “Nothing,” he says easily, his lips twitching like he’s holding back a smirk.

“What, can I not look at you?”

“No”

She deadpanned, rolling her eyes before shifting her position, bringing her legs up onto the chair. She folded her arms over her knees, her head resting against them. Rafe eyed her again.

“Are you about to throw up or—?”

“No asshole, I’m just tired”

She muttered, eyes fluttering shut for a moment. He scoffed at her harsh tone of voice before speaking up,

“You know, considering I organized this whole thing for you, you’re not very nice are you?”

She shifted her head, now looking at him, but she didn’t say anything. In reality, she knows he’s right. He didn’t have to do any of this for her. Yet, here he is- booking a ferry, making sure no one recognizes them, sitting beside her in the cold night air without a single complaint. She exhaled softly, pressing her lips together.

Maybe he doesn’t deserve the attitude.

She exhaled through her nose the breath rising in a small clous from the chill of the air, gaze dropping to where her fingers play idly with the hem of her sleeve.

"Sorry"

She muttered, barely above the sound of the wind. Rafe didn't say anything right away. He just hummed in acknowledgment, shifting slightly in his seat, like he hadn't really expected her to say it. The ferry rocked gently beneath them, the rhythmic sound of waves slapping against the hull filling the quiet between them. The water stretched out into an endless black abyss, only interrupted by a gleam of moonlight rippling across its surface. The island behind them grew smaller and smaller, its warm, glowing lights fading into the distance, swallowed by the dark. The silence stretched on, the distant hum of the engine the only sound breaking through the quiet between them. "So... " Rafe shifted, his gaze flicking to her profile before he asked

"What did you tell your brother?"

At first, she didn't answer, the question hanging in the air like a weight. Her fingers tightened around the fabric of her sleeve, her gaze still focused on the dark horizon ahead. After a beat, she finally responded, her voice low, almost like she's trying to convince herself as much as him.

"Told him I had a job interview."

Rafe raised an eyebrow in curiosity, "In Charleston... he believed that?"

She hummed softly in response, offering a casual nod as she lets out a quiet breath,

"Yeah."

Her eyes flickered briefly to him, and then she looked away again, the conversation itself being enough to bring on an ache she didn't want to face. She doesn't push the subject further, her gaze falling to the water, watching the faint ripples dance under the boat’s wake. Rafe caught the shift in her demeanour but chose not to say anything. He leaned back slightly, lost in his own thoughts, as the boat cuts through the black sea, the island now nothing more than a faint memory in the distance. His eyes flicked to her, the question sitting heavy on his tongue. The wind whipped through the air around them, but the tension between them felt more heated than the cold.

"Does he know?"

"What?"

"Does JJ know?"

The question seemed simple but his voice softened. Y/N pressed her lips together, her gaze flicking to the dark horizon- looking anywhere but to him. She hesitated before answering, almost like she was trying to convince herself to tell the truth.

"No... he doesn’t."

Rafe blinked, surprise flickering across his features, but he quickly masked it. He nodded, his fingers drumming gently against the table between them. There was something about her answer that he wasn’t expecting.

"...I thought you two were close."

The words hung between them, and Y/N’s shoulders stiffened at the words. She turned toward him, her eyes narrowing, a little defensive. "Look," she started, her voice edged with frustration,

"I don’t go around asking you about your relationship with Sarah or your lack thereof, so why don't you just drop it?"

Rafe’s jaw tightened, and he flinched slightly like he’d been slapped. The air between them shifted and from the way his hand now lay in a fist against the dark coloured table top, she knew she shouldn't have said what she did. He let it linger, only to let out a short, sharp comment-

"Alright, no need for the fuckin’ attitude."

Y/N clenched her own fists, feeling her temper flare at his words. She had no idea why his comment hit her like that- but deep down she knew it was because it sounded awfully similar to what someone else would always say to her- to the words that lingered in the walls of her home.

"God, you know- I just don’t get you Rafe."

Rafe raised an eyebrow, his arms folding across his chest, "Yeah? Well I’m all ears Bunny."

Y/N shook her head, her voice biting now, "One minute, you’re nice. Actually, not a complete asshole. And the next? You're right back to being your self-entitled kook self."

He scoffed, leaning back slightly, but the words stung. He wasn’t used to people talking to him like that- he knew what people whispered when he walked but, but directly to his face... no one said a thing- especially not someone like Y/N. Yet instead of apologizing, he shot back, crossing his arms even tighter.

"So, what do you want from me huh? Actin' like you're such a saint yourself Maybank"

Y/N scoffed right back at him, pulling her legs up under her. "You just—" she paused, running a frustrated hand over her face.

"..I don’t know you- you’re just confusing. I can’t figure you out."

Rafe stared at her for a moment, trying to gauge her. There was a vulnerability in her words, a softness she was trying to hide behind all the frustration she kept targeting him with. He didn’t respond immediately, his gaze lingering on her, reading her better than she realized. Maybe that was part of the issue- they both knew each other a little too well for their own good. Y/N stood up suddenly, brushing the fabric of her jacket down, her movements quick as she stepped away from him. She didn’t look at Rafe as she moved to stand by the railing, her arms resting on the cool metal as she stared out at the dark expanse of water. The sound of the boat's engine and the subtle slap of the waves against the hull filled the air, but the tension between them still hung thick, unspoken.

Rafe stayed seated, watching her from the corner of his eye. She was illuminated softly by the dim lights of the boat, casting a faint glow across her face, her features softened, but there was still a heaviness to her posture. He felt a pang of guilt deep in his chest, something sharp and uncomfortable. He knew he shouldn’t have pressed her like that, but he couldn’t help it.

For some reason, he always assumed she and JJ were the kind of siblings who shared everything, who didn’t keep secrets. The way she’d been so quick to shield her brother from everything, to keep him from knowing about her pregnancy, caught him off guard. He ran a hand over his jaw, a quiet sigh slipping from his lips. His thoughts drifted—unbidden.

To Sarah.

He hadn’t spoken to her in ages their relationship was... complicated, to say the least. But looking at Y/N now, standing at the edge of the boat with her back to him, he couldn’t help but wonder if that was how she and JJ were now- unable to speak about the things that hurt. The night was growing colder as the boat continued its steady path, the rhythmic hum of the engine almost lulling them into a quiet trance. Y/N shifted in her seat which she had returned to, a soft shiver running through her. The chill in the air seemed to settle in her bones, and without thinking, she muttered,

"I’m going inside. I’m cold."

Her voice was low, almost swallowed by the wind. Rafe, not looking up from his phone hummed in acknowledgment, fingers tapping out a message to Barry who was speaking to him about a new 'supplier'. The noise of his fingers tapping against the phone screen echoed faintly between them, but otherwise, there was nothing more to be said. Y/N didn’t wait for him to reply, standing up with the intention of heading inside. She moved with purpose, but as her foot shifted on the deck, the boat suddenly jolted—a subtle shift in direction that caught her off guard. Her body teetered for a split second before she stumbled, her hand shooting out to catch herself against the railing. It was nothing too dangerous, just the motion of the boat, but in the brief moment of imbalance,

Rafe’s instinct kicked in.

He reach out toward her, his hand halfway in the air before he pulled it back, seeing that she’d already steadied herself. His body froze for a second as he watched her, his gaze lingering on the way her posture straightened again.

Y/N, catching the small flicker of movement from him, glanced over at Rafe, her eyes locking with his for just a moment longer than either of them anticipated. It wasn’t a look of gratitude or acknowledgment- just a silent gaze in his direction, a brief pause that hung between them before she quickly looked away. She said nothing, just turned and continued her walk toward the cabin, moving a little faster now. Rafe stood frozen for a beat, his hand still in the air as though unsure whether to reach out after her. He let his hand drop to his side, watching her retreating figure. The silence around them seemed louder now, the distance between them more palpable than before.

After a moment, he exhaled, a soft sigh escaping his lips, and with a brief glance toward the dark waters, he followed her inside.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The soft hum of the taxi filled the air as it moved through the quiet streets of Charleston, the city’s lights casting long shadows on the pavement. The streets, usually busy with the bustle of tourists, were almost empty at this early hour of the morning. The moon hung high in the sky, its light reflecting off the buildings as they passed. Y/N stared out the window, her face illuminated by the passing streetlights. Her eyes weren’t focused on anything in particular- just the empty streets, the quiet that felt too loud between them. She shifted slightly in the backseat, then broke the silence, her voice barely above a whisper, as if she wasn’t sure she wanted to ask the question.

"When’s the... clinic booked for?"

Her gaze didn’t leave the window, but she was still waiting for his answer, the question just another small part of this strange, tense journey. Rafe’s eyes flicked to her for a moment before he glanced out his own window, his fingers drumming idly on the seat beside him.

"Evening"

He said simply, his voice low, he didn’t look back at her after that, the words hanging between them with an unspoken understanding. She nodded softly, her gaze still fixed on the darkness outside, her eyes slightly glazed as she thought about what was ahead. The clock on the taxi’s dashboard blinked a bright 3:13 AM, the streets were empty.

The taxi slows to a stop in front of a hotel, the headlights casting a long, soft shadow across the dark pavement. The building isn’t the most luxurious from the outside, but to Y/N, it’s the fanciest place she’d ever set foot in. As she steps out of the cab, she hesitates for a second, looking up at the hotel’s grand but understated exterior. The soft glow of lights spill from the inside, and the hum of quiet conversations can be heard from within.

Rafe’s already out, paying the driver. Y/N adjusts the small bag slung over her shoulder as she follows him inside, her footsteps echoing as they step through the double glass doors.

The lobby is elegantly designed—modern. There are soft armchairs scattered throughout the space, a sleek chandelier hanging overhead, and the hum of quiet conversations. It feels foreign to her, like she doesn’t belong here. Rafe heads up to the reception desk without a second glance, but Y/N, lost in her thoughts, lingers by the lobby’s wide glass windows, gazing out at the city streets. The street is still, save for a few scattered cars driving by.

Her attention is pulled back into the room when she notices a man sitting in one of the armchairs, talking animatedly on his phone. His voice is low, his hand gesturing as he speaks. Sitting beside him, though, is a woman who looks to be in her early thirties, her hair pulled back in a neat bun, dressed simply but elegantly. Y/N’s eyes are drawn to the curve of her belly. The woman’s hand rests gently there, a soft and loving gesture, cradling the life growing inside her. The man finishes his call and puts the phone down, settling next to her with a smile. His words are muffled, but Y/N can tell by the way he’s looking at her- so tenderly- that he’s saying something reassuring. She presses a kiss to his cheek, the act so natural and intimate, and his hand moves automatically to rest on her belly, as if it’s the most normal thing in the world.

Y/N’s heart tightens as she watches them, her breath catching in her throat. For a moment, the world around her seems to blur as she’s struck with the emptiness that threatens to overwhelm her. She feels a sting of jealousy- sharp and uncomfortable- but it’s not jealousy of them, not really. It’s jealousy of their simplicity. The way they seem to have it all figured out. Rafe returns to her side, his steps sure as he walks toward her. His eyes quickly flick over to where hers are fixed, but he doesn't need to follow her gaze to know what she's looking at. He doesn’t say anything at first- just watches her for a second longer before clearing his throat. The sound is like a small signal to break the tension hanging in the air.

“I’ve got the key card”

He says, his tone neutral, trying to sound casual but his voice sounds more empathetic than he'd like to let on. Y/N doesn’t respond immediately, she only gives a short nod, her mind still caught on the sight of the couple in the lobby. She blinks a few times, pushing down the emotions threatening to flood her again.

“C’mon”

He says again, stepping toward the elevator. It’s easy to just follow his lead, so she falls in line behind him, her footsteps light as she walks into the lift with him. The doors shut with a soft chime, and the silence between them is thick with the unspoken, and neither of them seems willing to break it. Y/N catches a glimpse of Rafe from the corner of her eye. He’s standing a little too still, his jaw tight, but then he shifts slightly, a sudden yawn catching him off guard.

It’s a soft sound.

She watches him for a moment, then quickly looks away, guilt swirling in her stomach. She feels bad. It’s hard to ignore the fact that she’s dragged him off the island for something she hasn’t even fully explained, and it doesn’t help that she’s been distant with him. He doesn’t owe her this, and yet, here he is. He’s sacrificed his time, his peace, to follow through with something she needed.

Something she couldn’t even handle on her own.

Her chest tightens, but she doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t even know how to apologize properly. The doors to the elevator ding, and Y/N shakes herself out of the fog in her head as the doors slide open. She steps out, trailing behind him down the corridor, the low hum of the building’s air conditioning the only sound between them. Her thoughts continue to swirl in a haze, and she follows Rafe wordlessly, her gaze flickering over the brightly lit walls and the muted carpeting underfoot. The beep of the card unlocks the hotel room, the handle clicking softly as Rafe steps forward to push the door open. He enters first, his eyes scanning the room for a moment before pausing just inside the threshold. He’s holding the door open, his back to her, but he doesn’t move forward immediately. Y/N stays a step behind, and she tilts her head slightly, a mix of curiosity and hesitation in her posture.

“What?”

She asks quietly, her voice sounding smaller than she intends. She doesn’t know why she’s asking. Maybe it’s just the lingering unease she feels with the way he's paused, or maybe it’s just the awkwardness of being here with him.

Alone.

In a hotel room.

Rafe doesn’t answer right away. Instead, his eyes flick to her, briefly meeting her gaze, then turning to the room as if weighing how to explain this. Y/N, now more aware of the pause, steps forward and brushes past him to peer into the room, her eyes scanning the space. The moment her gaze lands on the large, neatly made bed in the center of the room, her stomach drops. She takes a slow step back, blinking.

One bed.

Of course.

Her mouth opens as she exhales a soft, surprised “Oh,” almost as if she’s disappointed in herself for not anticipating this. The reality of the situation sinks in quickly, the silent weight of the choice she’s facing now becoming apparent. She glances back at Rafe, her eyes narrowing slightly. He stands frozen for a second, looking at the bed, then at her and his expression shifts into something more neutral—calm, but there’s a flicker of something else beneath. His gaze lingers on her for a second too long, the tension thick in the air between them. Rafe, standing just behind her now, clears his throat and shrugs.

“There was meant to be two singles...”

His voice is more earnest than she expects, but the tension is still thick. His gaze flickers to the bed and back to her.

“Guess they messed up with the booking.”

“Right”

She mutters and rolls her eyes, feeling that old frustration bubbling up again. She hears him shift behind her, and the tone of his voice softens slightly.

“No, seriously, I booked two beds Y/N.” he pauses, then sighs. “They messed up. Besides... not like I’m used to dealing with rooms for more than one.”

His voice is quieter now, maybe even a little... sheepish?

Y/N’s shoulders stiffen, and she tries not to think too much about it. She shouldn’t be frustrated, not really. He did try. It wasn’t his fault, but- she just nods, not trusting herself to speak, her eyes still locked on the bed as the weight of the situation settles in. It feels too personal, too uncomfortable, but she forces herself to exhale and shake it off. She half-turns to face him, her voice a little sharper than she intends.

“Great... so, what now?”

Y/N takes a few steps further into the room, her eyes scanning the rest of the space. It’s huge, definitely bigger than anything she’s used to, with a bathroom off to the side that looks like it could fit a small army. She almost feels out of place in the luxury of it all. Her fingers brush the smooth edge of the desk, the furniture pristine, and she can’t help but feel a little self-conscious. As she moves toward the far side of the room, her gaze lands on the couch. It’s medium-sized, tucked neatly against the wall near the bed. Her eyes linger there for a moment. She hears Rafe step closer behind her, his heavy footsteps echoing slightly in the quiet room. He follows her gaze, then looks back at her.

“I’ll sleep on the couch”

He says, and Y/N pauses, slightly skeptical. She turns to face him, a little incredulous.

“What?”

Rafe’s hand rubs the back of his neck, his posture a little stiff. “I mean, it’s fine... you’re pregnant and I’d rather not—” He cuts himself off, realizing that the sentence sounds ridiculous.

“I’ll take the couch.”

She doesn’t want to seem ungrateful, but she can’t help but bristle at the idea. “It’s fine,” she starts, shrugging it off, “I can take the couch.”

Rafe’s expression tightens, his eyes narrowing slightly in disbelief. “No. You’re not sleeping on the couch.” His tone is firm but not unkind.

“We’re not doing that.”

Y/N opens her mouth to protest, but then she catches the look in his eyes. Something about the way he’s saying it, the way he stands there, not pushing but still resolute. She presses her lips together, swallowing her own stubbornness.

“Fine”

She mutters, walking toward the bed and sitting down on the edge. He gives her a half-smile, nodding. He pauses for a second, his gaze flickering over her, before he heads over to the couch, testing the cushions.

“I'm sorry abou-”

"-It's fine Rafe."

She shoots him a side-eye, still a little uneasy but also strangely grateful that he’s not making her sleep in the same bed. The night passed in an odd kind of quiet. Y/N had turned away from the sofa, curling into herself under the blanket, her back to Rafe. He, on the other hand, lay awake for a while, his eyes tracing the outline of her figure in the dim light, the soft rise and fall of her breathing making him feel strangely protective- though he wouldn’t admit it. Eventually, sleep claimed them both, though neither one of them seemed to rest all that peacefully.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Morning came slowly, the bright sunlight spilling through the blinds, casting a soft glow across the room. Y/N woke first, rubbing her eyes before slipping out of bed quietly, trying not to disturb Rafe. He was still asleep on the couch, his body turned slightly, his arm thrown across his forehead. She grabbed a quick shower, dressed in the clothes she’d brought, and then made her way downstairs as he stirred from his sleep.

The small café downstairs was cozy, a little more upscale than the usual diner, but not so fancy it felt out of place. She and Rafe sat down at a table near the window. Y/N absently pushed her pancake around on the plate, the syrup drizzling down the soft stack of pancakes in front of her. Rafe had ordered eggs, bacon, and toast, and his plate was practically a mountain compared to her much smaller serving. Rafe looked at her plate,

“There was so much on that menu, and you got pancakes?”

Y/N shot him a small glare, her fork poking at her pancakes. “You’re one to talk. Look at your own plate.”

She rolled her eyes, the usual defiance in her tone. Rafe couldn’t help the small, amused grin that tugged at his lips. It was impossible to not appreciate her sass, even if it was often sharp-edged. He shook his head, stabbing into his food. They ate in silence for a few moments, the air between them comfortable. Y/N pushed a cut pancake around her plate, her mind clearly elsewhere.

“...When I was younger,” she started quietly, not looking up from her plate, “my dad used to make me and JJ pancakes for breakfast every Sunday.”

Rafe, who’d been about to take another bite, paused. He studied her for a moment, his gaze flicking from her to the food, but he didn’t say anything. Y/N continued, her voice softer now.

“He hasn’t done that for years.”

His eyes softened a little, the layers of tension between them briefly melting away as he processed her words. He didn’t know how to respond to her suddenly opening up, so he just stayed silent, watching her as she cut into her pancake. For a second, he wished he could ease her melancholy, the way her voice had faltered just a little when she’d spoken of her father. Y/N looked up at him then, catching the brief flicker of empathy in his eyes, before she quickly glanced back down at her plate, focusing on her food. Neither of them said anything for a while, and the quiet lingered between them. Rafe cleared his throat after a beat, as though considering whether to share what was on his mind. He looked down at his plate, pushing some bacon around before speaking again, his voice quieter now.

"My dad used to… uh…" He paused, as if trying to find the right words, "used to say that a growing man needs a filling breakfast, so ever since then, if I have breakfast, I have this."

He motioned vaguely to his plate of eggs and bacon. Y/N, in the middle of cutting up her pancakes, glanced up at him, her eyes taking him in, trying to process his words. It was strange to hear him speak so casually about his father- considering everything she knew from Sarah about the difficulty of their relationship. She hummed in acknowledgement, a simple gesture before she spoke up again, a question lingering on her tongue.

“Aren’t you bored of it?”

He didn’t answer right away, chewing a bite of his food, his eyes never leaving her face.

“Some things you don’t get bored of.”

Her fork paused midair, and for a second, she just studied him. She gave a small, almost imperceptible nod of understanding before looking back down at her plate, cutting up another piece of pancake. But his eyes stayed on her, the weight of his gaze just enough to make her feel like he was reading her again. She didn’t look back at him, though- her mind was too busy running through the conversation, the way his words felt like an opening, even if just a crack.

Y/N sets down her fork, her plate now empty, and picked up the warm cup of tea in front of her, holding it between both hands. She takes a slow sip, letting the warmth spread through her as she looks out the window, her gaze distant. Rafe, still focused on his food, catches her pause out of the corner of his eye, sensing a change in her demeanor. He swallows a bite and glances at her, then back at his plate.

"How far away is the clinic?"

She asks quietly, her voice slightly less steady than usual. She’s trying to keep it calm, but there’s a subtle weight to her words, as though she’s still sorting through the emotions building up inside. Rafe chews for a moment before answering, his tone straightforward but gentle.

"It’s not far, maybe a 30-minute drive. Shouldn’t be too bad."

He doesn’t press her for a response, letting her take the lead in how much she wants to engage with him. She nods slowly, but her eyes remain unfocused, drifting out the nearby window as her thoughts spiral. She feels a tight knot forming in her stomach. The decision she’s made, the steps she’s about to take—they all feel heavier now, so much more real than ever before. The thought of the procedure is enough to make her feel a little sick, though she doesn’t want to admit it out loud. It’s all she’s been thinking about since they left the island, but now that they’re so close, it’s almost suffocating. Y/N’s fingers wrap more firmly around her cup as she stares out the window again, but there’s a slight unease in her posture now. After a moment of contemplation, she breaks the silence with a soft, almost tentative voice.

"Do I... do I have to give my name or...?"

Her voice trails off, unsure, as though she’s not even sure she wants to know the answer. Rafe, sensing her hesitation, quickly cuts her off, shaking his head. "No," he says, his tone firm but gentle.

"It's anonymous. You don't have to. They won't even know who you are."

Y/N's eyes flicker to him, and she exhales a quiet breath of relief. "Right," she mutters, her fingers tightening around the cup again.

The idea that it could be so impersonal, that no one would know her, seems to bring her some comfort, though she doesn’t show much outward emotion. The thought of keeping it all anonymous, of having no strings attached, gives her a strange sense of control over something that’s felt so out of her hands.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The hours leading up to the appointment felt like they were dragging, each minute stretching on, yet it was as if time was slipping by too fast at the same time. Y/N had spent most of the day trying not to think about what was coming, but now, as she stood outside the clinic, she couldn’t stop her mind from racing. Her heart was pounding, her stomach tied in knots, but she didn’t have the strength to back out now. Rafe walked ahead, pushing the door open for her, and she stepped inside, the sterile, clinical air hitting her as soon as she crossed the threshold. The waiting room was eerily quiet, the kind of silence that made her skin prickle. It was empty, except for one woman in her mid-thirties, flipping through a magazine, and the receptionist sitting behind the desk, typing away. "Go sit down," Rafe murmured softly, his tone steady as he gestured to the row of empty chairs against the wall,

"I'll get the papers you need to fill in."

She didn’t have to be told twice. Her legs felt like jello, and she made her way to an empty seat, trying not to let her nerves show. The walls of the room were a bland gray, making everything feel dull and lifeless. The fluorescent lights above hummed quietly, and there was a small window in the ceiling letting in the dim light from the dark sky. Y/N's eyes drifted to the woman sitting across the room. The woman glanced up from her magazine and caught her gaze, offering a kind, understanding smile. Y/N hesitated for just a second but returned a small, tight-lipped smile in return. The woman nodded in acknowledgment before looking back down at her magazine and Y/N took a deep breath, trying to steady her thoughts. A moment later, Rafe returned, clipboard in hand, and sat beside her.

"Here"

He said, passing it to her with a soft smile that didn't quite reach his eyes. She nodded, taking the clipboard from him. She looked down at the forms, at the boxes she’d need to fill in, the questions that seemed to stare up at her, expecting answers. Her grip tightened around the pen as she brought it to the paper, but the tremble in her hand was almost impossible to ignore. She bit her lip and tried to steady herself, but it was no use. Her hand wouldn’t stop shaking, and she could feel the hot sting of tears threatening to fall, though she desperately fought to keep them in check. Rafe noticed immediately, his eyes narrowing with concern. He sat closer, his hand lightly resting on her hand for a moment before he gently took the clipboard from she had grasped in it.

"Let me do it," he said quietly, his voice soft but insistent.

"I’ll fill it in for you."

Y/N opened her mouth to protest, but the words got stuck in her throat. She muttered, feeling embarrassed, but she couldn’t seem to help it,

"But… you might not know..."

Rafe looked at her, his expression unwavering but gentle,"Then you tell me," he replied, his voice calm,

"and I’ll write it down alright?"

Y/N stared at him for a beat, her heart doing something strange in her chest, something like relief mixed with disbelief. She could feel the weight of his kindness, and for a moment, it almost made her want to cry more. But instead, she simply nodded, her throat tight.

"Okay"

She whispered, taking a steadying breath. She started telling him the details- any medical allergies, then other information like her date of birth- which he reassured wasn't necessary if she didn't want it there. Rafe wrote it all down, his handwriting neat and precise, his hand steady despite her trembling voice. She couldn’t bring herself to look at him directly, but the warmth of his presence beside her was oddly grounding, even though it didn't make her fear go away. The woman who had been reading the magazine had gone in, and the receptionist was somewhere out of sight, probably dealing with paperwork or something in the back.

It left just Rafe and Y/N sitting together in quiet.

Y/N sat forward slightly, her hands laid pressed under her thighs, her fingers digging into the chair. She couldn’t bring herself to look up. Her eyes stayed focused on her shoes, her mind racing, all the thoughts running in every direction. Rafe, stayed sitting beside her, his arms crossed tightly over his chest. His jaw was tense, his brow furrowed slightly, and despite the calm exterior. Then, out of nowhere, Y/N broke the silence.

"Rafe, I’m scared."

Her voice was soft, barely above a whisper, but it hit him hard. He was taken aback, not expecting her to admit it. He had seen her put up walls, but hearing her say those words made something tighten in his chest. He turned to her, trying to offer some kind of comfort, even if he wasn’t sure how to give it.

“Hey- it's okay...”

He said, his voice quiet but earnest. But she wasn’t reassured, her teeth caught her bottom lip, and she bounced her leg nervously, her eyes still downcast. Her voice cracked slightly, and she swallowed hard.

“What if something goes wrong, and—”

"Y/N—this is the best clinic in Charleston, alright? I promise."

Rafe shook his head in a reassuring gesture. Her eyes flickered up to him for a moment, but she quickly dropped her gaze again, her voice barely audible when she spoke again.

“I—but what if something happens?”

"Maybank" he said, his voice firm yet gentle, as if trying to anchor her in the moment.

“Nothing is going to happen, okay? You’re gonna go in there, they’ll do the procedure, it'll take 15 minutes and then you’ll be out. I’ll be right here waiting for you."

She let out a breath she’d been holding in, almost like a tiny surrender, but still, her hands were clenched under her thighs, her shoulders tense. Rafe could see her trying to hold it together, but the vulnerability in her eyes was there, clear and raw. Her hands moved then, resting on top of her thighs, and then, as if she couldn’t hold it in anymore, one hand came up to cover her mouth, the other rubbing her face in frustration. She mumbled,

“I’m so scared.”

The words hit him like a punch, torturous, he felt it deep down, the weight of her fear, and it gutted him in a way he didn’t expect. She was trusting him enough to let this fear out, and it made him feel an overwhelming pressure in his chest. For a moment, he hesitated. He didn’t know what to do, what would help her calm down. But then, without thinking, he reached out, his hand resting gently over hers, the one still resting on her thigh. Her eyes flickered down to where his hand met hers, and for just a second, their gazes met- her eyes searching his, full of uncertainty, and something else.

Something almost... vulnerable.

"I’m going to be waiting here for you the whole time," he said softly, his voice steady but carrying a quiet reassurance.

"I’m not going anywhere."

Y/N’s chest rose and fell with a deep breath as she processed his words, her bottom lip trembling slightly. Then, slowly, she moved her hand so it was now holding his, her fingers slipping between his as she squeezed gently. He felt her hand in his, felt her trust in that simple gesture, and his thumb instinctively began rubbing soothing circles on the back of her hand. Neither of them said anything more. The silence between them wasn’t oppressive now; it felt almost comforting, as if the simple connection of their hands could steady them.

The quiet of the waiting room was broken by the soft click of a nearby door opening. An older woman in a crisp white doctor’s coat stepped out, glancing around the space before her eyes landed on Y/N. Her face softened immediately, smile warm and gentle as she called out,

“We’re ready for you now sweetheart.”

Y/N let out a shaky breath, so subtle it could’ve been missed if Rafe wasn’t watching her so closely. She straightened a little, gathering herself. Her fingers slowly, reluctantly, slipped from his, and Rafe let her go, though his hand lingered in place for just a second longer like it didn’t want to lose the contact.

“You’ll be fine”

He said quietly, his voice steady. She nodded- small, but firm- and stood up. Rafe watched as she walked toward the woman, her steps light, almost unsure. The doctor opened the door beside her and stepped inside, holding it open behind her. Y/N followed, before she paused in the doorway.

She looked back.

Her eyes found Rafe's, and for a moment, the world seemed to still. He met her gaze from where he sat, arms still crossed over his chest, jaw tight, but his eyes—his eyes soft blue eyes watching her like he didn’t want her to go in there alone- like he wanted to be there right beside her, holding her hand.

And then the door closed behind her.

Rafe exhaled slowly through his nose, the weight of the silence hitting him all over again. He hadn’t even noticed how hard his heart was beating until now. His hand twitched once on his leg, like it still remembered the feeling of her fingers in his.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

The room was quiet.

Still

Only the faint sound of a random film playing on the TV filled the silence- a movie neither of them was really watching. Y/N sat curled up on the bed, knees pulled tight to her chest, her arms looped around them as her eyes stayed fixed on the screen like it was holding her in place.

She hadn’t said a word since the procedure.

Not in the car.

Not during the walk back up to the room.

Not once.

Rafe sat on the couch for a while, watching her more than the movie, caught somewhere between giving her space and wanting to do something, anything, to make this less heavy. Eventually, he stood up, quiet steps carrying him to the small desk tucked in the corner of the hotel room. He picked up the room service menu lying there, flipping it open. He glanced over at her again—still quiet, still curled up, like if she moved too much, she might fall apart and he walked back over and perched on the edge of the bed, not too close, careful with her space. Gently, he set the menu down beside her.

“You should eat something,”

He said, voice low, her eyes dropped to the menu for a second, but she didn’t reach for it. Then she turned to look at him, but he was already watching her. She gave a small shake of her head, still not speaking. Rafe sighed, running a hand down his jaw, rough with tension. “Maybank…” he tried again, softer this time.

“You gotta eat.”

Nothing, she didn’t move, didn’t speak. Just stared ahead at the TV like she wasn’t really in the room at all. “Alright,” he muttered, half to himself, picking up the menu again.

“Let’s see…”

He started listing, casual but careful, “Mozzarella sticks... caesar salad... bbq wings... mac and cheese.... tomato soup with grilled cheese....? Sliders? Pasta? Uh- spaghetti with truffle and mushroom? No..? Alright, club sandwich... chicken tenders... fries…?”

Her head shifted slightly.

Just enough to catch his attention and make his eyes flick over, catching the way hers had finally lifted, just the tiniest bit of reaction. “Fries?” he asked, tone light but a little hopeful.

“You want fries?”

She didn’t speak, but after a beat, gave him the smallest nod. It wasn’t much, barely anything- but it was something to Rafe. That was enough to make a small, quiet smile tug at the corner of his lips. “Alright” he said softly, already reaching for the hotel phone to place the order, his eyes lingering on her just a second longer.

He crossed the room in a few slow strides, grabbing the hotel phone off the receiver with one hand while flipping open the room service menu with the other. His thumb hovered briefly over the order as he pressed the button for the front desk. When the soft voice of the receptionist answered, he ordered simply- just the fries, nothing else. His voice was steady, careful, like he didn’t want to disturb the fragile quiet that had settled over the room. As he hung up, the faint mechanical buzz of the line disconnecting filled the space for a second, then faded. The silence returned but this time, it was broken—softly,

“Thank you”

Y/N said, her voice barely above a whisper. Rafe blinked and turned around slowly, surprised. She hadn’t spoken since she’d walked out of the clinic, hadn’t looked at him much either. And now, her voice was small—tired in a way that made something twist in his chest. He offered a quiet nod.

“It’s fine.”

He didn’t say anything else, just turned to go back to the sofa where he’d been keeping his distance since they got back. He didn’t want to crowd her, not after he'd just managed to get her to ease open. But just as he reached the edge of the bed, her voice stopped him again “You, um…” she said, hesitating, chewing at her bottom lip.

“You can sit here- if you like...”

He looked over at her slowly. She was still curled up near the pillows, knees hugged to her chest, the hotel duvet tangled loosely around her legs. She wasn’t quite looking at him- her eyes were flickering toward the television instead- but her fingers were nervously fidgeting in her lap.

“You sure about that?”

He asked gently, his voice softer now, the usual sharpness dulled by caution. She nodded, the motion small but certain. “Yeah,” she murmured, her voice slightly more sure this time.

“I’m sure.”

He hesitated only a second more before moving- careful and quiet, almost like if he made too much noise the moment might break apart. He rounded the bed and eased himself down beside her on the opposite side, lowering slowly until his back rested against the padded headboard. He kept a respectful distance, just enough to give her space but not so far that she felt alone. The curtains were drawn tight, muffling the city beyond, and the quiet hum of the air conditioner blended with the low volume of the movie.

Y/N sat propped against the pillows now, the bowl of fries resting on her lap. She was picking at them slowly, not ravenous, just nibbling. The taste of them felt grounding, something familiar in all the strange quiet of the day. Beside her, Rafe sat with his arms crossed over his chest, head tipped back against the headboard, eyes half-lidded as he watched the television. His expression was unreadable- tired maybe, the pale light of the screen moved across his face, catching the curve of his jaw and the furrow between his brows.

She glanced at him for a moment, then looked down at the bowl in her hands. Without a word, she nudged it a little toward him- silent but clear in her offering. Rafe’s eyes slid down to the bowl, then back up to her. He gave a faint shake of his head.

“I’m good, Maybank.”

“Have some,”

She tilted her head slightly, not pressing, just… encouraging as she said quietly. He looked at her again, her face soft in the dim light. There was a gentleness in her voice that tugged at something in his chest.

“They’re really good,”

She added, as if that might tip the scales.

And it did.

Rafe gave a small, defeated nod and reached into the bowl, pulling out a fry. He took a bite, crunching into it—and he had to agree it was perfect. Crisp, golden, just the right amount of salt. He gave a quiet little amused breath through his nose, the corner of his mouth lifting into a small smile.

“That’s pretty damn good”

He admitted and Y/N let out a breath that was almost a laugh, her lips curving into a small smile- soft, genuine. It was the first real one all day. She spoke, nudging the bowl toward him again.

“Have another”

He didn’t argue this time. He reached in and grabbed another fry, and then another after that because it seemed to satisfy her- make her happy. She shifted a little, adjusting the bowl so it sat between them now, and in doing so, she edged closer to him—just enough that their arms were nearly brushing. The bowl sat empty now, discarded somewhere by their feet, but Y/N hadn’t moved. She was still tucked in beside him, her side pressed into his, arms brushing with every breath, every subtle shift. The silence was back—but it wasn’t the heavy kind from earlier. It was different now, calmer.

A little softer around the edges.

Rafe hadn’t shifted either. His arms were no longer crossed, his hands resting on his stomach now as he leaned against the headboard, legs stretched out in front of him. He could feel the warmth of her against him, not overwhelming—just there.

Solid.

Y/N's knees were still drawn up, but her shoulders had eased, the tension from earlier leaking out of her bit by bit. Her cheek was tilted slightly toward him, not quite resting, but close enough that if she leaned an inch more, she could. The TV kept playing, casting dull light across the room, neither of them really paying attention to it. Rafe shifted just slightly, glancing down at the point where their arms touched, then at her profile. The flicker of the screen light danced along her skin, catching on the curve of her cheek, the arch of her nose.

Rafe’s throat felt dry, like he hadn’t swallowed in hours. He blinked, but his gaze didn’t shift.

Not from her.

Not from the way the soft hotel light picked up on her lashes or the way the curve of her lips- soft and slightly parted- seemed impossibly delicate. Y/N sensed it, felt his eyes on her. She turned her head slightly, brows pulling together gently. She asked, her voice soft, barely above a whisper.

“What?”

“Hm?”

He blinked again, slower this time. She tilted her head, a small crease forming between her brows as she brought a hand up to swipe lightly across her cheek.

“Is there something on my face?”

Rafe’s eyes followed her hand, the slow sweep of her fingers against her skin. He shook his head quickly—too quickly maybe—and leaned back against the headboard again. “No,” he said, his voice low, the edge of it a little hoarse.

“No there isn’t.”

Her hand fell away as she looked at him. Really looked. The space between them felt warm, heavier somehow than it had a second ago. The TV was still going, but the sound barely reached them anymore. Her eyes stayed on his, searching his expression like she wasn’t sure what she was seeing there.

Neither of them looked away.

Her gaze dipped- just briefly- to his lips and then in return his eyes did the same, flickering down to hers. His tongue slipped over his bottom lip dampening it slightly and the moment stretched, thick with something unsaid, something almost fragile.

The moment shattered with the sharp buzz of her phone against the bedside table. Y/N blinked, her gaze finally dragging from Rafe’s- like coming up for air- and she turned toward the sound coming from the bed side table, phone screen lighting up the darkened corner of the room.

JJ

She stared at the name for a second too long, her stomach twisting. He didn’t know where she was, as far as JJ was concerned, she was in Charleston chasing a job offer. She picked it up, pressed the screen to answer, and forced her voice to be steady.

“Hey, Jay… everything okay?”

There was a pause on the other end, the background sound fuzzy like he was outside before his voice came through, rough but familiar.

“Uh… yeah- yeah. I’m cool. Just… wondering how your interview went.”

Her brows pulled slightly together in surprise.

“Oh. Uh—it was okay. Yeah. Went fine.”

There was a soft hum from him in response and then silence. She shifted on the bed turning away from Rafe who was now looking at her somewhat curiously, especially since he noticed the tension in her shoulders tightening. She asked, the edge of concern pushing through.

“You sure everything’s okay?”

“Yeah, I’m at the Chateau,” he answered, “It’s… chill here.”

“That’s good,” she said quietly.

There was another stretch of silence, a tense one to the point she could feel something sitting behind it. Then JJ cleared his throat.

“Y/N, I was just thinking… um-”

“What’s wrong?”

She asked quickly, her voice dipping softer as she could sense her distress. She could hear something different in his voice—like guilt “I’m sorry,” he said, barely above a whisper. “For not talking to you...” Her breath caught a little and she swallowed. Her grip on the phone tightened just slightly.

“I, uh- I got a job, that’s what I was calling to tell you. It’s, uh, at the fish and tackle shop.”

She froze and for a second, she didn’t even process what he said. she just stared down at the carpet of the room, lips parted then spoke out, “… are you being serious?”

“Yeah” There was another pause before he continued his voice coming out through through the small speaker of the phone,

“I’m sorry I’ve been slacking and you’ve had to carry the house by yourself. I’m… I’m trying to be better. For you.”

She stared at the wall, that ache behind her ribs swelling. A sad smile tugged at her lips as her eyes glistened. She blinked fast, the sting behind her eyes catching her off guard. She drew in a slow, quiet breath through her nose.

“I’m proud of you Jay”

“Thanks,” he said, quieter now and then he asked, “When are you coming home?”

She drew in a slow breath, “Tomorrow. I’ll be back tomorrow.”

“Okay…”

She glanced at the clock on the bedside table, its red digits glowing up to her, her voice lightening.

“You going to sleep soon or what? It’s pretty late.”

He let out a tired “mmhmm,” and then he said, almost too quietly, “I miss you.” She pursed her lips tight, holding in the rush of emotion building in her throat. “I miss you too.”

“Goodnight,” he mumbled out to her.

“Go to sleep”

“I will.”

“You better.”

He let out a low chuckle- small, but real- and she could almost envision his boyish grin in the dark. “See you tomorrow,” she said.

“See ya tomorrow, sis.”

The line went dead.

She lowered the phone slowly, staring at it in her lap. The silence of the hotel room returned, and with it came the dull, heavy pressure in her chest. That hollow feeling. That shame. Because even though she had smiled and said all the right things, one truth lingered loud in her head—

She’d lied to him- and she'd never done that, not as seriously as this.

Her teeth sank into her bottom lip as her fingers tightened slightly around the edges of her phone. The guilt crept in like a tide, slow but suffocating. JJ’s voice was still echoing in her ears—the softness in it, the hesitation- he was trying so hard. He had called just to tell her he’d gotten a job, just to let her know he was trying to be better for her.

And here she was.

Sitting in a hotel room far from home, sharing quiet and warmth with the one person her brother hated more than anyone else on the island. The one person who'd hated and tourmented them since they were kids. She glanced over at him, still silent on the other side of the bed. His gaze was fixed on the muted television, though she could tell he wasn’t really watching. There was a calmness to his posture now, a quiet presence that shouldn’t have felt safe- but somehow did.

And that made it worse.

Because the longer they sat here, the more she realized that her feelings for him were starting to shift. The edges of her anger had dulled, the lines had blurred. He had seen her at her lowest, and he hadn’t run, he hadn’t mocked her like he always had. He’d stayed- and that terrified her more than anything.

Because JJ could never know.

Not about why she was really in Charleston.

Not about Rafe.

And especially not about the way her heart was starting to beat differently when he looked at her.

taglist: @xoxosblogsblog @moonywhisp3rs @i-love-gvf @my-name-is-baby@ltristessedureratoujours @stoned-writer @mariamadison6-blog@rafesgurl@rafecameronswhoore @lovelytoomusic @mysticbby2009 @vanessa-rafesgirl@silkenthusiasts @partygirl14 @amterasuu @xoxo-ada @icaqttt@ivysprophecy @mauvesmax @larema121 @ggraycelynn @emeloyy @pluviophilis@slut-4-gojo @willowpains @wtfisastiles @rafecqmeronslove @pleasstory@lolasangelz @beau-dabomb @psychocitylights @constantsadness @rhianthebest@emmiesummers @sfotiegiuls @ggraycelynn @larema121 @emeloyy @pluviophilis@urgoldens @insominagirlss @urfavoritebrunette007 @mauvesmax @miniiminie@kythefangirl25 @niyalovests @scream4mami @aizawawify @prettybabyyyy@barbiefan14 @keennerdslover @rafeysslut @rafeysworldim19@jennieonline@hannieskzzz@sugak00kie03@gabrielaperez11@simonejacpbsen@bambigirl10@prettycoochieee

[missdynamighttt]

thinking abt katsuki who gets mad when u put a pillow on ur lap when he lays down on it 💔💔 AND THIS IS FOR THE CHUBBY GIRLS W THICK THIGHS!!! urgh katsuki would so love a pluz size girl he would be all over her

katsuki was pouting. actually, no—he was sulking. that'd probably because he was in hell. not the kind with fire and demons, no, this was worse.

you had barely sat down on the couch before he sprawled out dramatically, resting his head in your lap like he always did.

it was his favorite place to be, right on top of you, wrapped up in your warmth, your scent, your presence.

but today, you did the unthinkable.

because right in front of him, you had the audacity, the sheer disrespect, to place a pillow on your lap. his lap. the lap that he was supposed to lay on, unfiltered, unobstructed, completely consuming you like he deserved.

“what the fuck is this?” he grumbled, glaring at the offensive object like it personally insulted his entire bloodline.

“it’s a pillow, katsuki,” you replied, suppressing a smile.

“yeah? no shit, why is it here?” his voice was all sorts of offended, like you had personally wronged him in the worst way possible. “i don’t wanna lay on some dumb pillow—i wanna lay on you.”

you rolled your eyes. “maybe i don’t want your heavy-ass head on my legs all the time.”

“oh, please,” he scoffed, shifting so he could grab at your thighs. his fingers squeezed your flesh, his grip firm but greedy. “these are mine. they’re meant for me. not a goddamn pillow.”

you bit your lip, trying not to laugh while his red eyes flicked between you and the pillow like he was debating setting it on fire. “katsuki—”

“no.” he glared at the pillow like it was his sworn enemy. “you’re warm. you’re soft. you’re perfect. and you’re putting this thing between us?”

he sounded actually hurt, as if the pillow was personally getting in the way of his love for you. “why would you do that to me?”

you blinked at him. “are you really getting this worked up over a pillow?”

“yes.” he said it without shame, without hesitation. “now move it.”

you raised an eyebrow, pretending to consider it. “and what do i get if i do?”

he smirked, shifting so his hand trailed up your thigh, squeezing with purpose. “oh, baby, you know what you’ll get.”

you sighed dramatically, pretending to be reluctant as you removed the pillow.

the instant it was gone, katsuki squished his face into your thighs with a satisfied groan, wrapping his arms around your waist like he was afraid you’d take it away again.

“never pull that shit again,” he mumbled, nuzzling into you. “i got the best damn thighs in the world, and you wanna cover ‘em up with some dumbass pillow? over my dead body."

he sighed deeply, like he had just endured the greatest hardship known to man. his face was completely buried in your thighs, as if he could merge with them if he tried hard enough.

"see?" he murmured, voice slightly muffled against your thigh. "this is how it's supposed to be. no stupid pillow. just you."

you rolled your eyes, but the fond smile tugging at your lips betrayed you. "you’re such a drama queen."

"yeah, and you're my throne, so shut up and let me enjoy it," he shot back, already closing his eyes like he planned to stay there forever.

you huffed a laugh as you ran your fingers through his hair, scratching lightly at his scalp. his grip on you tightened, a pleased hum vibrating against your skin as he melted into your touch.

for someone so explosive, so rough around the edges, he sure acted like a needy housecat when it came to you.

‎‧₊˚✧[ it's me, kia ! ]✧˚₊‧ ｡ﾟ•┈꒰ა ♡ ໒꒱┈• ｡ﾟ ‎‧₊˚✧[ more of katsuki ! ]✧˚₊‧

⋆˚࿔ kia's note ˚⋆ anon ilysm for requesting this, i really do. i'm probably writing the breeding kink next after this, considering it a 4k special since we're going so fast😭 lmk if you wanna be tagged and i hope you guys enjoy💗💗

[rottingpink]

PUT YOUR MONEY WHERE YOUR MOUTH IS

masterlist | taglist

cw: multi x reader, brat taming, size kink, car sex, breeding, doggy, reverse cowgirl, established relationship

synopsis: reader underestimated her quiet boyfriend and paid the price

You find yourself draped on your boyfriend's lap, positioned with your back pressed against his muscular chest as he bounces you on his massive, throbbing cock with deep, slow thrusts so that you feel every inch of him each time he slides his throbbing shaft against your gummy walls. "F-fuck, ba-babe..." you slur, voice a broken mewl as he slams you up and down on his cock with your back to his chest, using you like a sex doll.

You're crushed in his lap, legs spread wide and shaking, dress pushed up and panties down by your ankles as he keeps both hands locked on your hips while he rocks you down, again and again. He fucks you on his cock like you're nothing but something to use.

You've gone dumb with it, dizzy and sweaty and barely able to breathe through the choked little gasps that leave your mouth every time he lifts your hips and slams you back down again.

His car shakes just enough to be suspicious as you get ravaged in the parking lot of the bar he took you to to meet some of his childhood friends. The plan had been to get you to meet some of the guys he'd grown up with, and hopefully get you all on good terms, but you couldn't seem to behave for one night.

A couple drinks enough to get you tipsy paired with your loud nature had been enough to get you to go too far.

"He's -hic- totally my bitch, you guys," you’d said with a grin that took up your whole face, waving your hand dramatically. "He acts all tough, y’know, like all big and quiet and scary or whatever, but I swear to god," you leaned in across the table like you were telling a secret, all conspiratorial and smug, "this man says yes ma’am with a mouth full of my p-"

"That’s enough," he’d said then, right next to your ear, and you should've stopped, but you didn't.

The second everyone laughed, loving it, you only leaned further into the moment, letting out this airy little laugh and nudging his thigh under the table like you were just being cute.

"You guys don’t even know," you giggled, tipsy and teasing and leaning too far into it now, your voice a little too loud. "He’s literally obsessed with me. Like, full-on whipped. If I even hint that I want something? He’s already got it in the cart. If I want it in bed? He’s already on his knees. Like, he’ll beg for it, beg, and he’s so good at it too, you guys, it’s actually kind of pathetic,"

He didn't even say anything as he excused the two of you from his friends, hauled you out of the booth, and dragged you out towards the car for a "talk", and now here you are.

Your boyfriend remains surprisingly focused, but you can tell he's furious. His huge hands are gripping your hips so rough that his thick fingers leave indents on your flesh. Soft, rhythmic groans leave him as he stares at your fucked out expression, watching the way you shudder on him and struggle to take him in.

"You think you're so cute and funny, hm?" he grunts, his voice hoarse and deeper than you’ve ever heard it. "You think I'm your bitch?"

He punctuates the question with a sharp thrust that makes your whole body jolt, your eyes fluttering shut as a broken cry escapes your lips.

"Said that shit in front of my goddamn friends?" His hands push your body forward so that he's arching you harder so he can get deeper inside you. You can feel his huge, fat cock rubbing against your sweet spot with each thrust now. "Sat there and lied to their fuckin' faces like I don't handle you whenever I want?"

You try to respond, but you can't whimpering and moaning stupidly to try and convey that you didn't mean it, but with how he's splitting you open, you can't.

"Should’ve pulled you outta that bar by your hair the second you opened that pretty little mouth," he snarls, hips snapping into you harder, dragging you back onto his cock and stretching you out with each thrust. "Sat there giggling, acting cute, telling stories about me begging for you."

His hand moves from your back to your throat, wrapping around it to guide your head back so you're forced to hear every word he spits against your ear.

"Does this feel like I'm the one begging, baby?' he mutters, dragging his cock out almost all the way before slamming it back in, grunting as your body tightens around him. "You’re dripping. Can barely fuckin’ hold yourself up."

"Ngh, I-I'm sorry!" you mewl, lips parted as moans leave your lips. His cock feels so good inside you, and each time he pushes himself in completely, his cock leaves a soft kiss on your womb.  His fingers squeeze, sinking into your skin as he pulls you down onto his cock, impaling you over and over. His breath comes hot and heavy against your neck, his tongue lolling out to lave over your sweat-sheened skin, tasting you. 

His free hand finds your nipples, rolling and pinching the stiff peaks roughly, sending jolts of electric pleasure shooting straight to your core. He tugs on them, pinches them, as if trying to pull you even closer.  Your tits swell in his palms, aching and tingling from his groping, the hard points of your nipples feeling warm as he rolls the pads of his fingers over them, groping your breasts shamelessly while sinking his teeth into the column of your throat.

"Still got something to say? Huh?" he snaps, squeezing your throat hard enough to make your vision sparkle as he keeps driving into you, relentless and heavy, like he’s trying to fuck the brat out of you. "Go ahead. Say it again. Tell me I’m your bitch." You try to catch your breath, head swimming, and whisper something like "I didn’t mean-" but he shuts you up with another hard thrust that makes your eyes roll back.

His hips rise and fall with powerful thrusts, his massive cock disappearing into your plump, soaked pussy again and again. The thick, pulsing shaft stretches your entrance obscenely, your slick walls struggling to accommodate its girth. Each thrust forces lewd, wet squelches from your core, the obscene sounds of your juices being stirred up and splashed around his dick. 

"Stupid mouth, always running," he breathes against your hair, his grip on your neck tightening just slightly. "Sayin' shit that makes me want to lose it. But I still show up for you. I still take care of you. I still let you act like a fuckin' brat because I love you."

You moan, turning your head to press your lips against his, hoping it shows him that you’re really sorry and love him just as much, and to your delight, he accepts it, pressing an open mouthed kiss to your mouth in response, his tongue rolling over yours. The head of his cock kisses your gummy sweet spot with every thrust, battering against the entrance to your womb, as if he intends to force his way inside and shove his cum right into your depths.

Suddenly, with a sudden, sharp tug on your hips, he pushes you forward off his lap. Before you can catch your balance, he's gripping your hips and pulling them back, shoving your upper body down onto the seats so you’re folded in half. The leather is cold and smooth against your palms as he positions you in front of him with him fucking into you from behind.

He wastes no time, gripping your hips hard enough to leave finger shaped bruises on your skin as he hilts inside you with one brutal, balls-deep thrust. The angle is different like this, allowing him to plunge even deeper, his spongy tip slamming into your cervix as he grips your hair and tugs your head back.

You're forced to arch your back, neck craning to look up in front of you as your boyfriend sets a vicious pace pounding into your slick pussy. Drool drips down your chin, a strand of saliva connecting your lower lip to your chin as garbled moans and desperate cries spill from your plush lips. "Fu-fuck, I’m s-sorry baby... f-feels so good, I... m-more,"

Your words come out slurred, broken by every hard thrust that rocks your whole body forward, his grip iron tight on your hips as he keeps you exactly where he wants you, bent over in the seat like a perfect little mess just for him. The second that needy little more slips out, he lets out this ragged groan through gritted teeth, one hand releasing your hip only to come down with a sharp smack on your ass, making you jolt and whine.

"Oh, now you’re sorry?" he growls, voice dark and low, laced with that edge of fury he’s barely holding onto. "Didn't sound sorry when you were running your fuckin' mouth back there."

Your ass jiggles and ripples with every impact of his pelvis against your rear, the lewd slaps echoing in the chamber. Your plump pussy lips hug his shaft like a fleshy vise, the puffy skin stretched taut around his girth, glistening with your arousal, and each time he draws his thick cock back, you grip onto him, almost sucking him back in.  Your soaked cunt makes the filthiest squelching noises as his cock plunges in and out, stirring up your juices and coating his balls with your slick essence. 

Your boyfriend moans unabashedly, head thrown back as each thrust brings him nearer to orgasm, his eyes fluttering shut. "Oh fuck, you take me so well… Shit, gonna make me cum inside you, aren't you? Can feel you tightening around me like you want it," With one last thrust, he slams your hips back against his groin, grinding your ass into his pelvis as he hits your cervix dead-on.

He throws his head back, a guttural, animalistic groan tearing from his throat as he finds his release. His cock jerks and throbs, pulsing as it paints your insides white with his hot, thick cum. Rope after rope of his seed floods your womb, filling you to the brim.

The feeling of his hot cum gushing into you triggers an overwhelming orgasm of your own. You scream, back arching almost painfully as pleasure crashes through you like a tidal wave. Your pussy clamps down on his spurting cock, the muscles rippling and milking him for every last drop of him.

He grinds against that sensitive spot deep inside you, rubbing and thrusting as he rides out the aftershocks of his climax. Every movement sends sparks of ecstasy shooting up your spine, drawing out your own mind-blowing orgasm. Your juices gush around his shaft, mixing with his cum as it squirts out around his cock with each press against that soft little sweet spot.

As the last spurts of cum paint your insides, your boyfriend leans over your back, his chest pressing into your shoulders as he pants heavily. His hands release your hips to trail slowly up your sides, almost tenderly, as if savoring the feeling of your sweat slicked flesh.

He huffs, low and warm against your skin, pressing a kiss to your shoulder now that he’s spent and still inside you. "Now we're gonna get you cleaned up and you're gonna tell my friends you're sorry for acting up. Let 'em see who you belong to."

[dollbrbie]

MAKE UP SEX ⋆. 𐙚 ˚

꒰ criminal!sukuna m.list ꒱

“you didn’t need to come get me.”, you sigh, staring out of the window of you ex boyfriend’s car as you face away from him.

“are you kidding?” he scoffs, “you sounded like a mess over the phone.”

you roll your eyes at his comment. you had previously been at the club with your girls, just wanting a fun night out until you found yourself paralytic drunk, and calling your ex boyfriend with slurred words and childish giggles.

it wasn’t long before sukuna was storming into the place, his brows furrowed with concern whilst pulling your by your arm and into his car, forcing you to drink a bottle of water with scolding words.

“are you still drinking your water?”, he asks with a firm tone, side eyeing you.

“yes.”, you mumble, taking a sip of the cold bottle of water which has been sobering you up well enough.

pulling up to your apartment complex, sukuna asks, “what made you call me, anyway? aren’t you the one usually scolding me for that.”

“i dunno.. in the moment i just missed you, i think.”

“you think?” he repeats sarcastically before turning to face you, his attention fully on you, “what are we doing here, hm? we’re exes but we certainly don’t act like it. do you actually miss me or are you just keeping me around until you find the next guy?”

you scoff before replying, “you think i put myself through this just because? obviously i miss you, sukuna. but, how am i meant to feel safe around you with the shit you do?”

“you’ve got marbles for brains if you think i’d let anything happen to you. don’t you get i fucking love you?”

you’re silent for a moment, “even after all this?”

“you for real? especially after all this.”

soon followed your hand grasping onto the steamy windows of sukuna’s car, your pretty moans falling from your parted lips as sukuna bottoms out inside of you with his pelvis colliding with the plush of your ass.

“fuck.. forgot how good this pussy felt, baby.”, he groans, one hand entwined with yours and the other balancing himself in the backseat of his car as he fucks you dumb, admiring your trembling form and your fucked out face.

“tell me y’missed me.”, he demands with a whisper, nibbling on the bottom of your ear and eliciting a whine from you.

“missed you.. so much.”, you cry out as you feel sukuna abuse your g spot, your walls clenching around his cock.

he hisses at the feeling of your walls flutting around him before replying, “yeah? couldn’t stop thinking about you, y’know. you’re all i damn thought about.”

you whimper out his name, feeling your pleasure build up to it’s tipping point as your toes curling and your breaths becoming heavy, desperate for your own orgasm.

“i know, baby. hold out a little f’me, okay? m’ gonna cum soon as well.”, he says, his thumb rubbing small circles on your hand as he buries his face into the side of your neck, continuing to abuse your sweet spot until his cock throbs.

you suddenly feel the electricity of your climax, crying out your ex’s name like a beautiful prayer with your head thrown back and your hand gripping onto his.

“shit- inside or out?”, he asks, his orgasm so close as he feels the consistent clenching of your walls around his throbbing cock.

“in- in- in.”, you chant, desperate to feel his orgasm, to feel him claim and take you as his once more.

and so he does, emptying himself completely inside of your wanting walls, reaching down to kiss your parted lips as he shudders from the overwhelming sensation of his own orgasm.

“fuck, baby..”, he mutters out, his chest heavy as he comes down from his high, looking at your glossy eyes as he traces his thumb against your parted lips, “i’m not letting you leave me again, and i’ll never let anything happen to you.”

“i know.”, you mutter, looking up at the man you love knowing you were his and he was yours.

© dollbrbie | don’t plagiarise or translate any of my work

[alpali]

pt 2 of oikawa being a dork in love

After your small declaration of a truce. Oikawa acts like he’s won nationals.

You’re still mean to him. Which confuses him to no end but you enjoy it. You’re not hateful like before it’s just teasing.

“So does this mean I can finally take you on a date?”

“Absolutely not.”

“But why!”

It’s routine that you guys eat lunch together at the same spot you made up.

“Ooo your food looks good lemme try it.”

Swat!

“Hey!” He clutches his hand with a pout and you purse your lips.

“Don’t touch.”

“I need this hand to play you know!”

“I barely even touched you.”

“Kiss it.” He grins.

“Ew no!”

He’s wounded.

Oikawa helps you out with your studies that you’re struggling with. Often hosting study dates, as he loves to call them.

“I’m tired.” You groan out, sprawling your arms across the table, your cheek squished against the table.

Oikawa smiles, moving a stray piece of your hair behind your ear.

“We can take a little break.” He doesn’t miss the way your cheeks redden.

His routine still hasn’t changed. He still visits you before class but now he always brings your favorite drink with him.

“Here ya go pretty girl.” He places the can on your desk, ruffling your hair.

“My hair!” You narrow your eyes.

“Sh, it’s okay you’re still beautiful, look.”

He has a habit of taking pictures of you. Not in a creepy way, they’re mostly off guard so he can get back at you with your teasing. But also just because you really are beautiful. He knows he’s made it when he finds photos that you took of yourself and even of him when he’s left his phone unattended. Sending them to you and saying.

“You got my bad side :,(. Do better next time.” 

It takes him awhile to convince you to actually come to his games.

“Come on please! Prelims are coming up. I need you there.”

“I don’t think I could enjoy it with all your girls there.”

“Is someone jealous~”

“Oh please. As if all your attention isn’t focused on me anyways.”

“That’s my girl.” A dumb smirk lacing his features.

However he isn’t aware when you actually do decide to show up. Iwaizumi is actually the first to notice and honestly he’s not really excited for the Oikawa he’s about to put up with. Yet he tells him nevertheless.

With a nudge Iwaizumi is gesturing to the stands and Oikawa looks up, his water bottle gripped in his hand. You sit there and the both of you lock eyes. He visibly lights up and blinks, not believing his eyes. You honestly weren’t expecting to have that much of an impact on him but you can tell just how much it really does mean to him.

“She came!” Oikawa gushes, smiling up at you as you send him a small smile.

Iwaizumi is a little surprised at just how much Oikawa adores you. Guess he lost that bet with Shigeru. He’s attacking more during this game which confuses his teammates a little but they take the set and secure the win with ease. Once he finds you in the hallway, he’s jogging up to you.

“You actually came.” He says out of amusement.

“Just thought I’d check it out.”

“So how was it, seeing me in my natural habitat.”

“Pretty impressive, sadly.”

“Hey! All of those points were for you!” He sulks and you giggle.

Oikawa flushes, a genuine smile on his face. Out of pure adrenaline and love he has for you he kisses your head, pulling you straight into his sturdy chest.

“Thank you. Really.” He whispers, holding you a little tighter. You flush in his arms, gripping the ends of his jersey.

After that, he’s more persistent than before. He starts asking to hangout whenever he has any kind of free time. He just wants to be in your presence.

He’s over the moon when you agree to play volleyball with him. He’s teaching you how to set and when your form is wonky. He comes up behind you, placing his hands over yours he adjusts them.

“Then you just wanna let the ball touch your hands.”

When you actually get a decent set in, he cheers.

“I think I just fell in love with you all over again.”

“Be quiet.”

“Never! My perfect little setter.”

After a couple months you finally agree to let him take you on a date and he’s spoiling the hell out of you. He insists the two of you get matching keychains.

When he’s walking you home he’s so corny it makes you wanna laugh. The way he subtly tries to grab your hand. He opts to holding your pinkie instead. However this act has him STRESSING. You reach your doorstep and it’s obvious he doesn’t want you to go.

“Thanks for tonight…Toru.”

He’s deceased.

“T-Toru?!”

“Don’t make it weird!” You both are flustered now.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You mutter but right before he steps away you plant a kiss on his cheek.

Hitting the nail on his coffin.

In a flash you’re gone, in the comfort of your house as he stands there recollecting what the hell just happened. His fingers slowly gracing his cheek as his whole world was just altered. He fist bumps the air, even skipping as he makes his way home.

“So are we gonna talk about yesterday?”

“no.”

“Will I be receiving more of those?”

“Depends, will you ask me out?”

“I think I’m gonna cry.”

“Never mind.”

“No wait! Come back!”

[clanwarrior-tumbly]

What about the Doors/Pressure shopkeepers trying to pretend they aren't giving their crush special treatment when in groups. Like, special inventory, discreet discounts, all that jazz

Jeff (Doors)

"Oye, I see what you're doin', Jeff. Thought you weren't one for giving out freebies."

*shrug*

"Don't play dumb! I saw you sneak the skeleton key into their bag! Even Bob's a witness!"

No matter what El Goblino says, Jeff will just wave off any accusations of him giving you "special treatment" whenever you stopped by the shop with your group.

While none of them donated to the tip jar, you were the only one who ever did...and even when you came back again and again, it was always you who showed him charity.

The rest of your group would just argue over what to spend their money on, try to rush ahead, mess with his radio, etc. etc.

But you trust Jeff, and he trusts you <3

So you get small discounts on his wares, and despite him not being able to speak, you could tell he's only looking after you.

The goblin jokes about Jeff's little "crush" on you...then he sees the entity's eyes widen and realizes "wait amigo,,I wasn't being serious do you actually like them?????"

He just shoos him away and will deny it to kingdom come, but it is true.

The moment you realized his feelings for you was when Rush attacked the shop once, and you thought you were done for-

When Jeff instinctively pulled you behind the counter and slammed the shutter down, keeping you uncomfortably close (yet somehow you've never felt safer).

When it's all over, he blushes and lets you go free.

You thank him with a small kiss on the forehead(?) and promise to see him again soon.

The next time you get duped by Dupe, or attacked by Eyes, Timothy, Screech, or a snare and need to heal...you discover a few bandaids in your pocket that weren't there previously...

Huh.

Wonder who gave you those?

Sebastian (Pressure)

Normally, Sebastian doesn't care to make personal connections with any of the expendables.

He's just there as their supplier before seeing them off on their journey, hoping they're putting his resources to good use.

But recently he's been seeing you more often, coming by with a new group or by yourself, trying your best to survive long enough to reach him.

Ofc, you've died to stupid things before (or maybe you're just trying to get all the monster documents..in which he's convinced you're some masochist), but you did have the most common sense out of your group and didn't try to annoy him.

The others just waste flash beacon charges on trying to blind the poor guy and stick the keycard in a medkit they couldn't afford...and for what?

Why do your "friends" do that? Are they stupid or something?

You tell them to stop, and it's...actually kinda nice to hear somebody willing to defend him.

People usually don't give a shit about the giant scary fish's feelings, yet for some reason you do.

Of course, Sebastian was reasonably suspicious about it.

"Are you acting this way just to get a freebie?" He assumes. "Because if you are, then you're definitely as stupid as-"

"No, I'd never do that to you." You shake your head. "You're here, helping us survive out there, risking a lot to get us those supplies...is it wrong for me to appreciate that?"

"......"

He goes quiet for a minute, but after the rest of your group leaves, he asks you to stay for a moment.

"You were looking at this Necrobloxicon for a while...you must reeeeally want it, huh?" He grins, flicking his tail where the book was strapped. "It's a rarity."

"I...can't afford that. I'm fine with this dingy flashlight-"

"It's yours for 70% off. Take it or leave it."

You do a double take. "Wait, wha-"

"70% off. Take it. Or leave it." He says through gritted teeth, impatient, only to smile when you accept the deal without further question. "Good. Now don't go telling anyone I'm offering discounts. That's your only one unless I feel generous. Capiche?"

"Gotcha. Thank you, Seb. This means a lot. I hope to see you again soon." You smile back, holding the spooky book tightly, and leave him alone with his thoughts.

And a warm and fuzzy feeling in his chest-

Wait.

"Oh no....what the fuck am I doing????? That's it! NO more discounts for anyone, Sebastian!" He scolds himself.

Little does he know, he's gonna keep giving them out, but only for you.