#and did not proofread it

[rafeandonlyrafe]

live like a kook

words: 5.2k

the camerons take you in after your house is destroyed in a hurricane, giving you a month to live like a kook

warnings: enemies to lovers, lots of pogues vs kooks dynamic, rafe being mean to reader, reader is john bs cousin, food insecurity/mentions of going hungry, cursing

taglist: @drewstarkeysbae @thelomlisrafecameron @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @winterrrnight @slut4drudy @drewsbabygirll @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs

“dad, this is fucking ridiculous. no way am i sharing my home with a fucking pogue.” rafe argues, his voice raising higher and higher as the fight goes on.

“well, get over it rafe. we are doing our part for the community, this girls house got destroyed in the hurricane, she’s staying here for the next month. end of story.” ward says firmly, hoping to temper his sons anger before you arrive.

“bullshit, you don’t care about helping the pogues, all you want is to look like a good guy.” rafe runs his hand through his hair, pushing it back off his forehead. “it’s not safe. we can’t trust them, what if she steals from us?”

ward pauses. it’s something he did think about, which is why he went through the house and hid the most valuable items, locking them away in a secret safe. “you keep an eye on her then, rafe.”

it’s the end of the conversation as ward walks out of the room, even after rafe continues after him, not accepting his dads solution. wards patience with his son is about to bubble over when the doorbell rings.

ward gives rafe a pointed look to calm himself down, or at least be quiet about his disdain as he opens up the door to reveal you standing there, only carrying a backpack, fitting all of your belongings after losing almost everything in the hurricane.

“hello, mr. cameron, i’m y/n.” you stick your hand out, accepting the firm but friendly shake ward gives you.

“y/n?”

you look around ward into the house, making eye contact with a shocked rafe.

“you didn’t tell me it was- her who was going to be staying here.” rafe spits, looking at his dad, nostrils flaring in anger.

“rafe, watch yourself.” ward warns, stepping back from the door and beckoning you over the threshold.

“hi rafe.” you say quietly. you had foolishly hoped that rafe wouldn’t mind you staying here. it’s not like you ever really interact, but you know that he doesn’t get along with your cousin john b.

ward gives you a tour of the house, introducing you to rose and wheezy, and the whole time rafe stalks behind you, silent and domineering. 

“thank you again for letting me stay here.” you say when ward shows you what is to be your room for the next month, situated between rafes and sarahs, who is currently out, probably with your cousin.

“of course.” ward says. “i’ll give you some time to unpack, we are serving dinner in around an hour.” “okay.” you nod, heading into your room, shutting the door carefully behind you. you glance around the opulent bedroom, so unlike what you are used to, large sweeping curtains covering the windows, sturdy wooden furniture, and best of all, the huge bed covering most of the floor.

you drop your backpack, letting yourself flop back onto the bed, letting out a laugh when you realize that even the ceiling is beautiful. 

you weren’t sure what to expect when you got told that there were some people opening up their homes for those who lost theirs due to the hurricane, but you certainly never expected it to be the camerons, or any other rich kooks.

you’re still smiling to yourself when your door bursts open. your eyes widen as rafe takes up the entire doorway, not asking permission before barging into your room and slamming the door forcefully behind him.

“hey!” you shout, swinging your legs to the side of the bed and turning to stare at rafe. 

“shut up.” rafe warns, quickly crossing the space between the door and the bed, hovering over you. “i want to make one thing very clear.” he holds up his pointer finger, pausing as you flicker your eyes from his hand back to his face. “do not touch anything in this house. if you steal like your loser pogue cousin, i will know. i will be watching you.”

rafe doesn’t say anything more, he doesn’t need to, turning and walking out of the room, leaving your door flung wide open, not bothering to even shut it behind him. you shiver at the warning, not that you planned on stealing, but you did plan on a peaceful stay here, and it seems like rafe is committed to the exact opposite.

you stand and shut your door, this time making sure to lock it.

--

“that’s screwed into the wall.” rafes voice suddenly rings down the hallway, making you jump away from the painting.

“i wasn’t going to steal it.” you grumble, crossing your arms. you were still familiarizing yourself with the house, spending some time wandering alone, but around every corner, rafe is there.

“then what were you doing staring it?” he questions.

“admiring the art, if that’s so hard to believe. yes, rafe,” you say with a sigh “even a dirty dumb pogue like me can appreciate a painting.”

“well then you don’t mind if i stand here and watch as you appreciate it.” rafe crosses his arms, muscles bulging. you turn back to the painting, looking over the landscape scene, but rafes eyes are drilling holes into you, and just like he wanted, you quickly get too frustrating, groaning and stomping away.

you head out into the garden, needing a breath of fresh air and to look upon the ocean. 

“he’s an asshole.”

you jump, not realizing wheezie was in the hammock you stopped next to.

“what?” you question.

“rafe. he’s an asshole.” “you said it, not me.” you sigh, taking the hair tie off your wrist and pulling your hair into a ponytail as the wind picks up.

“just try and avoid him when he gets in his pissy moods. he’s not like this all the time.” wheezie gives you a piece of advice as she swings her legs over the side of the hammock, heading back inside.

you watch her until she’s all the way in, before glancing up and realizing that rafe is watching you as well. your brow scrunches in anger and you turn, not giving him the satisfaction of seeing you angry again.

you head towards the expansive dock, marveling at how far it stretches out into the ocean as you plop down on the wood, swinging your feet over the edge. your eyes are on the horizon as gray clouds roll in, probably a cell from the recent hurricane that broke off.

you keep your back turned to the house, not wanting to retreat yet as you watch the storm roll in, scenting the air change as the temperature drops. you wrap your arms around yourself to keep warm as the wind picks up, but the rain still hasn’t reached you yet.

you daydream about living in a house like tanneyhill. not for a month, but for your whole life. of getting out of your small cottage, now being rebuilt by your deadbeat dad, and living a life of luxury like the camerons.

strong hands grab onto your upper arms, pulling you to a standing position like you weigh nothing. “what are you doing?” rafe asks, shaking you slightly, his eyes wide with what you think might be worry.

“get off of me!” you shout, pulling yourself out of his hold.

“do you want to get yourself sick? it’s cold, and there’s a storm coming in. get inside.” rafe stares at you expectantly as the first sprinkles of rain starts to fall. you want to fight, to push back, but you also don’t want to get soaked, walking past rafe without acknowledging him as you both head into the house just before the downpour hits.

rafe doesn’t even glance at you as he pushes past, heading to his room.

--

“y/n, you wanna come with me?” sarah asks, slinging her bag over her shoulder, probably going to spend another night at john b’s. she’s been away from tanneyhill more often then she’s been here ever since you arrived.

you glance at rafe who is sitting on the couch, phone in hand. you’re not sure if he’s even paying attention to whats going on.

“sure.” you reply, “just give me a second to get changed.”

“alright, john b will be here in 5 minutes in the twinkie.” sarah heads outside to wait as you move up the stairs, taking off your leggings and opting for a pair of shorts instead, slipping your tennis shoes on.

you gasp in surprise when you open the door and run right into rafes wide chest.

“i heard you’re going to hang out with the dirty pogues.” rafe says, taking a step back when you push against his chest. you know he’s choosing to let you by, and if he wanted to he could have stood firm.

“in case you forgot, rafe-” you shoot him a pointed look as you head down the stairs. “i am one of those dirty pogues.” rafe stays put as you head outside, and you’re thankful to get some time away tanneyhill as the twinkie pulls down the street.

“hey, it’s my favorite cousin!” john b shouts when he sees you getting in along with sarah.

“john b, i’m your only cousin.” you roll your eyes, turning to watch out the window as tanneyhill disappears from view.

it’s nice to catch up with your friends and cousin, spending the afternoon relaxing and talking around a campfire. you are especially happy pope is here, always getting along so well with him.

“there they go again.” pope sighs when kiara starts to fight with jj, both of you rolling your eyes at each other, wishing they’d just work through whatever repressed feelings they have for each other.

“hey, john b, can you give me a ride back to tanneyhill?” you ask, noticing it’s start to get dark.

“aw, can’t you just stay here?” john b asks, his tongue obviously loosened by the beer he was sipping on. “i hate that my cousin is there, taking the kooks charity.” “just because you don’t want any help doesn’t mean that i can’t accept it.” you say, raising your voice. “besides, you knew our house got destroyed and you didn’t even reach out. you were too busy with sarah.”

you stomp away from the chateau, heading down the dirt driveway, determined to walk back to tanneyhill if john b wouldn’t give you a ride.

“y/n! wait!” if it was john b calling for you, you wouldn’t have stopped, but you turn to face sarah. 

“listen-” you interrupt her before she can speak. “i’m not mad at you. i’m not even mad at john b. i’ve just been through a lot and want to go ho- back to tanneyhill.” “i’m sorry.” sarah pulls you into a hug, one that you didn’t realize you needed that much. “john b’s probably too drunk to drive. i texted rafe to come pick you up.”

you sigh, trying not to let your disappointment show on your face. you really don’t want to spend time alone with rafe, but you thank her and tell her to tell rafe that you’re starting to walk so to keep an eye out on the way, figuring it would be better to distance yourself from the rest of the pogues before he got to you.

you spot rafes truck after walking for a few minutes, watching him slow to a stop before you climb into the passenger seat.

“thanks.” you whisper, not sure what else to say as rafe presses down on the gas. you expect him to turn back towards tanneyhill, but he’s driving you in a different direction.

“where are we going?” you ask.

“i doubt you ate anything good while you were with the pogues. you need to get some real food.” rafe pulls into town, finding a parking spot that would fit his truck.

“rafe, it’s okay, i’ll eat at tanneyhill.” you say, but he just gets out of the truck and walks around to your side, yanking the door open and gesturing for you to get out.

“i see what you eat at tanneyhill. it’s never real meals unless it’s what rose makes, and she’s out tonight with my dad. just come on.”

you slide out of the truck, watching rafes back as he walks away, expecting you to follow. you stay a few feet behind him until rafe turns into a restaurant, again holding the door open for you as you duck inside. it’s not one you’ve been to before, probably because it’s out of your price range.

“just the two of you?” the hostess asks. rafe nods in response, and you’re quickly shown back to a table.

“rafe, i-i can’t afford this.” you say when looking at the menu. you can’t even afford just an appetizer. 

“you don’t think i know that, pogue?” rafe rubs his brow. “i’ve got it, just eat, please.”

you study the menu, opting for a simple chicken and fries, along with mozzarella sticks. afterall, rafe is paying. he orders a burger for himself, not even glancing at the waitress who took your orders, like she's beneath him.

“did ward put you in charge of me or something?” you ask after sitting in an awkward silence for a few minutes, waiting on your food to be brought out.

“i don’t want to be sharing a house with someone who is sick because they refuse to eat right.” rafe says. “i don’t want to find you passed out because you didn’t get enough food.” rafe leans back in his chair, glancing over you. “that would just be an inconvenience.”

“ah.” you nod, keeping your eyes on the empty place in front of you until your food is brought out. your stomach growls at the smell, not realizing how hungry you truly were, so used to going all day without a true proper hot meal, surviving on snacks and whatever else you could find.

you dig into your food, moaning when the melted cheese enters your mouth after biting down on the mozzarella stick.

“hey!” you shout when rafe reaches across the table and takes one of the sticks, biting the end of it off. 

rafe just grins at you while chewing, making you shake your head in laughter. you continue eating your meal, not even realizing that you just had a nice moment with rafe until later that night when you’re laying in bed, reflecting on your evening with rafe. he didn’t make a big fuss when paying for the bill, simply sat his credit card down and didn’t mention how you were broke, then drove you back to the house and bid you goodnight upon entering tanneyhill.

you press your cold fingers to your cheeks, willing them to settle down as you shift underneath the covers, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself, reminding yourself that one nice thing doesn’t mean rafe doesn’t hate you, afterall, like he said himself, he just doesn’t want you to be an inconvenience.

--

“mr. cameron, i really don’t want to impose!” you say, but ward just shakes his head. “nonsense, y/n. you’re coming with us.”

“let me help you with your hair, dear, come on.” rose ushers you towards her bedroom. you give wheezie a pleading look, but there’s nothing that she can say to get you out of going to midsummers, not now that ward is determined to have you come with them, showing off how generous and charitable he is by taking you in.

you sit still as rose patiently straightens your wavy hair, only to recurl it, pinning sections up until it’s mostly swept out of your face besides for a few face framing strands, then cascading down your back.

“rose-” you breath catches in the mirror. “you did amazing, thank you.” you turn to look at the woman. “i’ve never had my hair done like this before.” “you look beautiful, y/n. it’s a pleasure to have you with our family tonight. i think sarah is in her bedroom doing her makeup, maybe she can put some on you too.”

you nod and head towards sarahs room. you didn’t want to go at first and be surrounded by kooks, but now that you have no choice, you might as well enjoy feeling beautiful for one night. sarah already leant you a dress, but she agrees to do your makeup as well, keeping it light and fresh before helping you sort out putting on the dress.

you look in the mirror at yourself, unable to resist twirling, the fluttery skirt of the dress billowing up on the bottom. 

“girls, it’s time to leave!” you hear ward call, and you finish off the outfit with a flower crown of pale pink flowers to match your dress before rushing out of the room.

you head down the stairs, gripping the railing so you don’t stumble in your borrowed heels. 

rafe looks up, ready to chastise you for taking so long, when his breath catches in his throat, eyes going wide.

“not too bad for a pogue, huh?” you question.

“you look…” rafe trails off, his soft expression quickly being replaced with an angry one, stomping out of the room without finishing his sentence. you resist the urge to chase after him.

you don’t see rafe until hours later. you’ve been paraded in front of all of ward and roses country club friends, but you just put on a smile and boast about their generosity. you’re not sure if anyone can see through the fakeness, but ward seems pleased, and finally lets you stop mingling to rest your tired feet.

you watch the crowd from the camerons reserved head table, feeling like such an outsider, knowing this isn’t where you belong, and if you weren’t scrubbed clean and dressed like them, the kooks would be turning their nose up at you. at least rafe is decent enough to not try and hide his hatred behind a nice face.

you spot rafe in the crowd, whisky glass in hand as he talks to his friends, a bright smile on his face that gives you a funny feeling in your chest. you rub the spot with your hand, willing it to go away as people clear out from standing on the dance floor as the music starts, a few brave couples being the first one to begin swaying to the music. 

you watch as ward and rose dance, eyebrows raising up when they turn their attention to you. “y/n, come on!” 

you consider ruining having a place to stay and sleeping on the street tonight, but you’ve put on a good act so far, you can continue it for a bit longer. you smile and walk over to them, expecting to be shoved into the arms of some random kook boy, but instead you’re ushered to rafe.

“dance, you two!” rose calls, grabbing a champagne flute from a passing waiter.

rafe holds his hand out, looking at you expectantly. you hesitate to place your hand in his, making rafe sigh. 

“you don’t know how to dance, do you pogue?” he questions.

“maybe i just don’t want to with you.” you place your hand in his, letting him tug you closer, his other hand resting against your waist while you grab onto his shoulder. you follow rafes lead, matching your footsteps with his as he sways you around the floor, glad the song is soft and gentle so you can just move slowly.

“see, this isn’t so bad.” rafe says, looking down at you.

“could be worse i suppose.” you hum, keeping your gaze straight forward at rafes chest as the song comes to an end.

the lights dim, and a romantic song comes on. you go to pull away from rafe, but he keeps you close to him, wrapping both arms around your waist and leaving you no choice but to put your arms around his shoulders.

you look to see all the other couples pressed close together, women with their head against their mens chest, some even kissing in the low lighting.

“just relax.” rafe whispers. “you’re so tight you’re gonna snap.”

you let your body relax in his hold, not realizing that you were clenching almost every muscle in your body. your head falls against rafes chest as you dance, letting yourself close your eyes and be swept away in the loving lyrics of the song, once again daydreaming about if this was actually your life.

the song ends far sooner than you’d like, and the lights brighten again. the crowd claps for a moment, but you’re locked into rafes arms, both of you now standing completely still. you can hear his steady heartbeat against your cheek, his breathing slow and deliberate.

“you look beautiful tonight.” rafe says, making you jump, almost forgetting who you are, and who he is. “that’s what i didn’t say earlier.” rafe clarifies, face falling when you look up at him in horror. you pull away from his arms, instantly missing his warmth as you run as fast as your heels can carry you out of the crowd, needing to get away from the music and the man.

you look down at your borrowed dress. you would rip it off or roll in dirt if you didn’t have to give it back to sarah, hating that this is what rafe finds beautiful. when you’re primped up to look like one of them, not the real you.

you find a dark corner to sit in until the party starts to disperse, and when you find the cameron family again, rafe isn’t with them, and no one mentions it as you pile in the car to head back to tanneyhill.

--

“are you sure you don’t want to come out on the boat with us, y/n?” wheezie asks you, but you shake your head.

“i’m okay, i’ll just stay back and read. i don’t want to impose, enjoy some time as a family.” you can tell already from being at the camerons for three weeks that they rarely do things as a family, at least one person, usually rafe or sarah, being left out.

“alright, i guess it’s you and rafe staying home. lets go!” ward calls, ushering the girls out of the room.

“wait, what?” you call, but they’re already out the door. you thought for sure rafe was going with him. you haven’t spoken a single word to each other in the past three days since midsummers. he’s barely even been around, you’ve just caught glimpses as he left for the day or came home.

you make a late breakfast for yourself, deciding since you’re basically home alone to fry up some bacon. you’re too nervous to use the kitchen for anything more than grabbing a quick snack when rose or ward are home.

you hum to yourself as the oil sizzles in the pan, finishing cooking your meal when you hear heavy footsteps coming down the stairs.

“rose, is that bacon?” rafe calls, entering into the kitchen with just a pair of basketball shorts on, freezing when he sees you.

“they all left.” you say, swallowing and resisting the urge to let your eyes track all over his torso. “but um, i made extra if you want some.” “yeah, let me just put a shirt on.” rafe walks away and you take the opportunity to fan your face, dividing the bacon up between two plates and sitting down at the counter, starting to eat when rafe rejoins you in the room.

you both eat side by side in silence, and you’re glad to not be talking. you finish your food, going to put your plate in the dishwasher when rafe takes it from you and does it for you.

“thanks.” you say under your breath, going to turn away when rafe clears his throat. “what is it?” you question, voice coming out harsher than you meant it to.

“i’m going to golf today. did you want to come with me?” rafe asks, not meeting your gaze.

“i- i don’t know how to golf.” you say as your way of refusal.

“right.” rafe nods, letting his shoulders drop.

“dirty pogue, remember?” you question.

rafe doesn’t say another word, he doesn’t even look at you as he leaves the room. you watch him walk away before closing yourself in your room, only moving to peek out the window when you hear his truck start up, watching it speed away from the house.

--

“y/n, you have a visitor.” ward says, ushering you towards the front room. you stand up, confused, not sure who would be visiting. it’s not like you have any friends who would come to tanneyhill.

“dad!” you shout in surprise, seeing him standing in the foyer, looking out of place in his dirty shorts and tank top.

“hey, y/n.” he says casually, like it hasn’t been four weeks since he saw you last, shipping you off to stay with a kook while he fixed up the hurricane damage on your house.

“what are you doing here?” you question, looking to the base of the stairs where rafe is stood on the bottom steps, arms crossed and watching the interaction with a scowl on his face.

“i finished fixing up the house enough for you to come home.” 

“oh.” you nod. you’d completely forgotten in your time here that you were only staying for a month, and that of course your dad would be here to collect you. “let me just get my things.” you force yourself to turn away and rush up the stairs, letting a few tears slip. you don’t want to go back to staying in a broken down house, and you especially don’t want to stay with your dad, having to fend for yourself completely while he spends all your money on drinks at the bar, not even leaving you enough for food.

you head into your room, wiping away tears as you shove things into your bag, including some clothes sarah was going to donate but she gave to you instead.

you control your breathing and stop your tears before you head downstairs, making eye contact with rafe as you walk down, unable to read the emotion on his face.

“thank you again, mr and mrs cameron for letting me stay here.” you say politely, and the both pull you into awkward hugs. 

“and bye, wheezie.” you squeeze the teenager against you, whispering a promise to come back and hang out.

you turn to rafe as your father walks out the door. you can’t find any words, so you simply turn and leave.

--

“dad, i need to buy food.” you argue. “i’m starving!” “you just want to pig out on fast food! we have things here you can eat!” your dad slurs his words, gesturing to the broken down kitchen. there wasn’t as much done in the month that you were gone that you were hoping for. he’s cleaned up the hurricane damage in most of the rooms, but tree that fell onto your bedroom is still there, simply hidden by a closed door, relegating you to sleeping on the old couch.

you curse as your dad stumbles into his bedroom, opening the kitchen cabinets to look for something edible before landing on a packet of saltine crackers.

you take the packet outside along with a water bottle, needing to get away from that house and your father. you sit down on the swing hanging from a high tree branch, crunching on the crackers as you listen to the birds chirping.

the mockingbirds song is interrupted by the rumble of an engine, and you turn towards your driveway, shooting up to stand when you recognize the truck getting closer.

you walk towards the truck, confused at why rafe is here, wondering if maybe you left something at tanneyhill, but it’s already been two weeks since you left. maybe he only just now bothered to return it.

rafe gets out of the truck, his eyes wide as he takes you in.

“how are you already so skinny?” rafe questions, taking the saltine cracker out of your hand and looking at it with disdain. “is this all you have to eat?”

“rafe, what are you doing here?” you question, snatching the precious cracker back.

“i-fuck!” rafe runs both his hands through his hair, “i was worried! and look at you! is he feeding you at all?” “rafe, calm down. you’ll wake him up.” you try and shush him, but it just makes rafe angrier.

“wake him up? does he hurt you? y/n.” rafe grips your upper arms, staring you straight in the eye, needing to know if what he suspects is true.

“what? no, rafe. he just drinks then passes out, he’s never hit me.” you’re still confused why rafe is even here. 

“get in the truck, i’m getting you food.” rafe demands, and your mind says no, but your rumbling stomach has your feet moving. you climb into the passenger side, looking at your broken down home thats truly no more than a shack. you wonder what rafe must feel seeing it as he gets in and starts the truck, backing out of the driveway.

you bring your knees up to your chest, letting your head fall as you sob silently. rafe doesn’t realize that you’re crying until your body starts to shake. he stops the truck in the middle of the dirt road, not caring if it blocks anyone else.

“y/n?” rafe questions, unsure how to get you to stop crying, worrying that it’s his fault.

“i don’t wanna go back there.” you admit, looking up at rafe, letting him see the messy state you’re in.

“fuck it.” rafe sighs, unbuckling both of your seatbelts and pulling you onto his lap, wrapping his strong arms around you as you press your face into his shoulder, letting your tears run free, not caring about the wet stains you’re making on his clothes.

“it’s okay.” rafe rubs his hand up and down your back. “you don’t have to go back there. you don’t have to do anything you don’t want to. i’m here.”

you cry harder, wrapping your arms around rafes waist, keeping yourself close to him, letting yourself find comfort in his arms.

“i’m here, y/n.” rafe whispers, pressing a kiss to your head.

you look up at him, tears still flowing down your face. “why? why are you here?” “i told you…” rafe cups your cheek, trying to wipe away the tears but they just keep flowing. “i was worried. i had to come check on you… please stop crying.”

rafes words do nothing to stop the deluge, and he’s starting to freak out, hating seeing you so upset, knowing you need some sort of distraction as your breathing speeds up, starting to hyperventilate until rafes lips are pressed against your own.

you’re momentarily confused, hesitating for a split second before kissing back, letting rafe dominate your mouth as you concede, the tears slowing to a stop as he keeps kissing you.

“rafe!” you gasp when he pulls away. “you just kissed me.” “i know.” rafe wipes his palms over your cheeks, and this time theres no fresh tears to replace it. “i care about you y/n. it’s why i came. i missed you.”

“oh, rafe.” you lean forward, letting him hug you tight, squeezing your bodies together.

“i’m here.” rafe whispers again, not letting you spiral, reminding you as many times as it takes that you’re not alone, that you have him now.

“now,” rafe gives your forehead a kiss, “we need to get you some real food. what are you hungry for? pizza?”

[zevrra]

𝐢𝐢𝐢. 𝐰𝐢𝐥𝐝𝐟𝐥𝐨𝐰𝐞𝐫𝐬 𝐟𝐨𝐫𝐞𝐯𝐞𝐫

synop: (this is the final part to this series) ; you somehow manage to take on both viktor and jayce inside the lab.

wc: 2k

includes: smüt(ns//fw), fem!reader, threësome, fïngering, ëdging, v peneträtion, double v peneträtion, semi-public sëx, dirty talk

extra: make sure to read part 1 & 2 as well!! thank you all for the love and support on this <33

“shit.” jayce groans at the sight of you. neither he nor viktor could argue against your wishes when you looked so damn good like that, begging for them both. you watch as both of them blush a soft red before both nodded in agreement. “it’ll take some…time.” jayce adds with a slight gesture to his own twitching cöck; pride and worry in his tone.

but none of that mattered. you said what you said and you’d live up to it. “don’t care. i want you both.”

and he wasn’t kidding when he said it would take some time.

after what feels like an eternity of jayce fingering you, stretching you out, drawing you closer and closer to a second orgasm only to rip his fingers away from you, you’re beginning to fear you might lose your mind. you sit in his lap, as he’s returned to sitting on top of the desk, with your legs spread open wide for all to see. and if you were in any other state of mind, you might have been a little embarrassed about being so exposed. but not now, now you were simply dumbed down with pleasure as jayce’s hand sneaks its way back to your aching pussy.

“no more.” you weep, tensing up as his fingers press back into your core. he easily slides three fingers clean up until the second knuckle inside of you.

“sorry pretty, gotta make sure you can take us both.” jayce mumbles softly into your hair, almost apologetically but he’s not really that sorry. he’s not sorry at all, especially when his fingers slip oh-so-easily inside of you and the noises he forces out of you and your soaking cunt. listening to you moan while your core makes the most embarrassing, wet noises; oh no it turned him and viktor on extremely.

viktor stands between your thighs then, kissing the top of your head as he presses two of his own fingers inside you, sliding right up against jayce’s fingers and stretching you even further. “you were the one who begged for both of us, weren’t you?” vik hums in a teasing tone, a smile on his face. he flexes his fingers inside of you, just about the same time jayce does and it would have pissed you off how in sync they were but the mind numbing pleasure shut you up far too quickly.

“just a little more.” jayce encourages sweetly, placing a kiss against your head.

you whine in response to both of them, panting heavily as their fingers begin to work faster inside of you. they both finger you in turn, matching each other’s pace effortlessly, as they stretch you more and more. jayce’s fingers push deep, viktor’s pulls out, jayce slips his fingers out, viktor pushes his right back in. back and forth they work on your cunt until you’re growing hotter. lava burns in your lower abdomen and in your thighs and it makes you fidget against jayce’s lap. you whine at the tight feeling at your core, begging for any kind of release. and as the tightness grows closer and closer, you get louder and louder with each press of the fingers inside of you. the threat of coming again makes your toes curl, back arching, fingers gripping into the closest arm you can grab onto as your orgasm burns in your lower half.

but just like the several times before, the two men remove their fingers just at the last second. your orgasm threatens to break open the floodgates but is quickly retreating at the loss of stimulation and the edging leaves you gasping while tears cling to your eyelashes. “‘ts enough! i can’t take it anymore!” you plead.

jayce returns to placing soft kisses wherever he can reach while his hands smooth along your arms and the rest of your body. “you did amazing.” he praises, adjusting your body as he speaks, so now you can fully lean your weight back against him. hands sliding under your thighs and keeping your legs open for the next part to come. “viktor, give her what she wants.“

you could almost weep at his words but instead you nod as quickly as you can. “please.”

“mhm darling.” viktor softly hums in response to your begging. one of his hands presses against jayce’s knee as he angles himself right up against your core. his other hand wraps around his overly aching cock, giving it a swift tug with a low groan, before he’s pressing forward. the tip of his pink head slides easily against your wet cunt; and he slides even easier inside of your waiting body.

you tighten at the intrusion but quickly welcome it as viktor bottoms out. his hips press against your own as he slips his cock all the way inside you, reaching deeper than their fingers could have and it makes you cry with relief. “yes! god, yes.” you groan as you take all of viktor with ease.

who in turn mimics your groan at the warmth wrapped around him. he braces himself completely down onto jayce’s thighs now, forcing himself to still for a moment. “shit...” viktor comments with a whine before he slowly pulls out, his pretty eyes never leaving where the two of you connect, staring as he disappears once again inside of you. and he whimpers when he bottoms out for the second time.

you can’t help but chuckle a little at his fixation on your bodies meshing together. you reach with a gentle hand and caress the side of his face and he melts into your touch, glancing up at you while his hips begin to move ever so slightly. “you ok?” you ask sweetly, thumb rubbing across the high of his cheekbone.

“i am better than okay.” viktor replies with a small smile. the pupils of his eyes are wide upon looking up at your mutually red face and you manage a weak smile right back at him.

“c’mere. you’re making me feel so good.” you hum and your words make his hips stutter. he moves just a little faster, leaning forward with your guiding hand to allow both of you to kiss. and you kiss him oh so sweetly. your tongue running across his bottom lip and he gladly matches your movement while he keeps his pace thrusting inside of you.

jayce bites down on your shoulder, not to hurt you or anything, just to get your attention as you and viktor share a heated kiss. “don’t forget about me…” he mutters, pouting as he shifts his hips to press his own angry red head against your body.

you gasp softly at the thick of his tip pressing into your skin, causing you to briefly break the kiss with viktor to glance over your shoulder at the pouting man. “well, come on then. make me feel good too.” you tell jayce and it’s all he needs to hear before his hand slips from the back of your thigh to wrap around his thick cock, pressing the head right up against where viktor steadily fucks into you. you return to kissing viktor, eating up every whimper and groan the other man lets loose into your mouth.

jayce times everything else perfectly. as viktor pulls out, jayce rushes inside. his thick cock spears you deeper than vik’s had and you hate to say it but thank fuck for all the prepping jayce had insisted on. he slips deep inside and before you can fully adjust to his size alone, viktor is slipping himself right back inside of you; right next to jayce.

to say you’re stuffed full is an understatement. they both sit deep inside of you, moving just enough to continue to stretch you further now that they’ve managed to fit inside. you can’t help but cry into vik’s mouth, and it’s his turn to eat up every noise you make. and just like with their fingers before, the two fall into a perfect rhythm. viktor dives in, jayce slips out, viktor presses back inside; the combo leaves you breathless.

jayce’s hands return to your thighs as he ruts inside of you, messy but he makes up for it with his girth while viktor places perfectly angled thrusts into every sensitive bit inside your throbbing pussy. you break the kiss with a sharp cry as the two continue, hearing vik whimper at how much tighter you must feel now. meanwhile jay is in your ear grunting harshly with each thrust. “fuck.” he groans, hips never faltering as pleasure takes hold of him while he slips and slides right up against viktor. his nose digs into the crook of your neck and he practically pants against you, fingers tightening on your thighs.

you can’t even respond. words are nonexistent to you anymore as you’re split in half with both men fucking you; and all you can do is weep with pleasure. your orgasm is quick to build up again, it doesn’t take much now anyway, as the burn returns inside of your lower half. viktor presses his head against your other shoulder and somehow the two know to turn and place kisses against your throat. you were definitely going to be sore tomorrow but would need a damn turtleneck at this point too…you can’t complain though.

“going to…” viktor whispers against your neck and you nod in agreement. you were also getting closer and closer to the edge of your orgasm too.

doesn’t help when jayce suddenly ups his speed and deepens his thrusts, throwing both you and viktor into a spiraling mess. “j-jayce!” you cry, his fingers tightening again against your thighs as he practically piledrives inside of you, wildly thrusting against viktor as well.

“can’t last.” jayce grunts, burying his nose as deep as he can into your neck once more. “finish together.” he adds with a deep groan.

viktor is the first to lose himself. he slips out, whimpering, thrusting into his hand to finish himself off across your hip. you, mere seconds after vik, finish with jayce still pounding into you. he fucks you through your orgasm as it crashes down on you like a wave. you try to form any semblance of words but nothing slips past your lips besides pathetic whines. and with you squeezing tight around jayce through your much needed orgasm, it brings him into his own. his hips stutter harshly a few more times inside your spent pussy before he’s slipping out of you, quickly fucking the rest of his climax out against his hand, roping every last drop out onto your thigh and hip.

after his finish, all three of you return to mostly silence then, the lab being filled with nothing but your shared heavy breaths in the wake of your orgasms. you slump against jayce as viktor leans against you, running a hand to smooth through viktor’s hair as you all try and collect yourselves. and to think this all happened because you were too impatient to wait for nightfall. the thought put a small smile on your lips.

“gods. i need a shower.” you cut through the silence, smiling fondly as both jayce and viktor manage weak laughs. “but i don’t think i’ll be walking for a little while.” you add as you semi stretch out along jayce’s strong lap, soreness already settling into your hips.

as if sudden dots are connected, both men realize that they’ve completely—for lack of better words—soiled you; covered in their sticky mess during the midst of their highs. viktor scrambles to find something to clean you up with as jayce shifts and adjusts you onto the desk he previously had been sitting on to help in the search with viktor. shamefully, they come up with nothing besides jayce’s large shirt and he tries cleaning you up the best he can with it.

meanwhile, you try your best not to laugh as he forfeits up his clothes, staining his shirt with the mess he and viktor shared. you watch with soft eyes as jayce cleans you up while vik dresses himself, handing you jayce’s jacket to semi cover yourself with. “next time…let’s use a bed. and be closer to a proper bath.” you hum ’innocently’.

with both men staring at you with shocked faces, you’re unable to hold back anymore; you break out into laughter as viktor and jayce both chirp a surprise; “next time?“

[kiiozawa]

"You can't keep doing this." You hiss as the tequila hits the back of your throat.

"I can and I will, princess."

You have to crane your head up just to glare at your ex-boyfriend and his stupid maroon colored eyes. Sukuna has a shit-eating grin on his face as he is eyeing you up and down. The baby blue dress that you're wearing that didn't leave anything to the imagination made his grin widen as he saw how flushed your cheeks were.

The scent of cheap liquor and the sweat of dancing bodies lingers in the air of the club. The club where you were supposed to be on a date. Until, Sukuna crashed it. Again.

"You can't be serious." You roll your eyes, arms crossing over your chest.

"As if you're serious about some guy with greasy hair and looks like he stays up arguing on Reddit until 3 in the morning." Sukuna quips back as he leans dangerously close to your face. "I can take you home right now, princess. Just say the word."

What's annoying is that you were already planning on telling your date that this isn't working out. Your date kept saying that they should play some 'real' music and had the audacity to tell you that your outfit may be a 'little too much'. He tried to offer you his jacket to cover up, which you shot down.

That is something that you weren't keen on letting Sukuna know. Sukuna's inflated ego may explode if you willingly offer that information. Instead, you hold out your hand to Sukuna, your eyes never breaking contact with his.

"Fine. But I want to get some McDonald's on the way." You relent as Sukuna's muscular hand engulfs yours as he pulls out through the sea of people.

"Anything for you, sweetheart."

[heich0e]

the itadori house always smells faintly of clean laundry.

it's not because the two boys who live there are particularly diligent about staying on top of their housework—the towering pile of recyclables in the corner of the kitchen is proof enough of that—but it's because the first time yuuji had tried to do his own laundry, he used way too much detergent. the ensuing tsunami of soap suds had flooded nearly half-way across the tiny apartment—coating the floors, the baseboards, and anything else in its path, in a slippery (though pleasantly fragranced) froth that took DAYS for the two brothers to clean up. it must have sunk in to the floorboards, or there must still be traces of it lingering in nooks and crannies that they couldn't reach, because even now, years after the catastrophe, the scent still lingers.

even though the mere mention of the incident still makes a vein of irritation throb in sukuna's forehead, and makes yuuji hang his head in shame, you don't mind the smell. it's familiar after all these years. it reminds you of this place.

you burrow your face down into the cushion of the living room sofa. it's raining today, and a bit humid, so the scent of detergent is particularly strong.

you're nearly asleep when a voice interrupts your quiet moment of relaxation.

"i should start charging you rent, y'know."

you don't open your eyes, even once you hear the words that come from above you. even without looking, you can picture the scene: sukuna leaning over the back of the sofa that you're sprawled across, his weight resting on his elbows as he peers down at you with his usual scowl. it's not the same scowl he shows to everyone else—the one that makes people shrink back under his gaze—this is a softer version of the same expression, dulled by familiarity. if you were more optimistic you might even say it was blunted by affection.

"stop pretending to sleep, kid." you feel his hand grasp your hip, shaking you lightly. "i know you're faking."

you feel a smile threatening to pull at your lips so you turn your face towards the pillow—the one you bought for the sofa, since the itadori brothers' idea of home decor is limited to creased posters for old mafia movies nobody's ever heard of and women with their tits out taped to the wall—and you burrow down to hide your expression from view.

"you're such a nuisance," sukuna groans, and then you feel the sofa dip. you figure he's pulled himself over the back of it now, based on how you feel him kneeling overtop of you with your legs straddled between his own. you're on your belly, but you can feel him rest back on his haunches, trapping your feet underneath him as he sits. "can't you nap at your own house?"

"too tired," you finally rasp out, daring to peek at him over your shoulder.

"and i'm not?" he scoffs, lifting his hand and pushing his hair back from his face. he's still half-dressed in his work uniform—a pair of slacks from the security company he's been working at part-time for the past few weeks, and a white t-shirt that he usually wears underneath the short sleeved button down that matches the trousers. "i just worked a double—been up since 4."

he does look tired, now that you have the chance to look at him. his hair is a bit dishevelled and he's got dark circles under his eyes. sukuna always looks a bit exhausted—and has since grandpa passed away and he took on the responsibility of raising yuuji. but it's particularly noticeable right now.

"and i can't even come home and take a nap on my own couch because there's a freeloader here."

you bite the inside of your cheek, wiggling around a bit underneath him so you can lay on your back.

"charge me rent then," you parry back to his complaint, and he cocks an eyebrow at your challenge. "i want a bed though. s'only fair."

"we'll get bunkbeds for yuuji's room, then," sukuna quips.

"don't wanna bunk with yuuji," you counter again, "he snores."

sukuna pauses, staring down at you. he leans forward slowly, his hands pressing into the couch cushion on either side of your waist as he dips towards you. "only one other bedroom in this place, y'know—"

you do know. it's why you said it.

"—and i have no plans to give up my bed."

sukuna is close to you now. too close, in any other circumstance, but this is one entirely of your own creation. a circumstance that feels more like an inevitability than anything, given the tension that's been crackling between the two of you lately, ever since he rescued you that night at the bar.

"didn't ask you to give it up," you say quietly, your eyes flickering across his features until they eventually settle on his lips.

sukuna makes a little noise in the back of his throat, close to annoyance, but not quite. distinctly tortured in nature.

"you really, really are a nuisance, y'know that?"

his hands are on your hips now. not like when he'd shaken you awake—this touch is greedier, needier than that passing graze. his fingertips slip up underneath the hem of your shirt until they brush against your bare skin, and the contact makes your body flush with heat.

"yuuji's gonna be back from class soon," you murmur softly, your gaze flickering back up to sukuna's heavy-lidded eyes. his nose twitches a little in annoyance, knowing you're right.

sukuna backs away a little, his hands slipping back out from underneath your shirt.

you sit up and catch his wrist in your hand, and his eyes widen in surprise. your faces are close together now—so close you can smell the cinnamon gum on his breath. he stole a pack from you a few days ago, and clearly he's still chewing it.

you can't smell the laundry detergent anymore.

"i didn't tell you to stop," you remark lightly, leaning back so you're splayed out against the sofa once more. you stare up at him, waiting for him to process what you've said—watching the thoughts play out across his uncharacteristically shocked face. "i just meant that you should hurry up and do it already."

[hiraethminds]

[mostly-imagines]

🌻 anon here

The last few days I stumbled into a few posts about Jason having +18 pics of reader in his phone and I just can't stop thinking "would he tho??" Like would he trust enough his device to have r18 pictures of the one he love and literally worship in his phone??? Knowing he knows damn well how easy it is nowadays to get those types of pictures through hack and stuff??

And I'm not saying he would share the pics, HELL NO he would never. But because I don't think he would trust his phone -and also because it cracks me up- I imagine him having a Polaroid to take the pics. The photos get printed automatically and if he have to he can't literally burn those without having to overthink about someone hacking his phone.

Like can you imagine him just casually take a Polaroid you didn't know where there out his nightstand and taking a pics of you while you reaching your peak??

Anyways all of that just to ask what one of my fav Jason writers would think about the whole Jason having spicy pics of you in this phone

18+

i’ve honest to god been thinking about this non stop since you sent it sunny

i think you're dead on, jason's protective streak rings too loud in his mind to ever take the chance of someone else maybe seeing those photos of you. personally, i’m of the belief that he uses his phone for the most practical purposes only and that his photo gallery is borderline empty, with few exceptions of nondescript images. like the only pictures of you on his phone don’t show your face or any revealing information about you. yeah, he’s a little paranoid in that way but it just makes his alternative that much more interesting.

there’s also something about it that feels more personal, more intimate. there’s not a chance in hell those photos are going near another person and he likes the idea that you’re giving him this amount of vulnerability and trust.

i also think he is an avid supporter of your personal autonomy and feels better knowing that if you want a picture gone, all you have to do is burn it and it's gone forever. he doesn't really like the idea that so many things on electronics can be spread or seen without you even knowing, so he's perfectly fine to stash a few polaroids in unsuspecting places.

he’d be really hesitant to ask you the first time, he was worried he’d make you uncomfortable or that you’d think it was weird. the thought initially came about after he’d gone on an away mission that lasted twice as long as it was supposed to and he was bordering on losing it without a single image of you. that, and frankly, he was stressed and he has never experienced a stress relief quite like you.

so the night he comes back he’s kissing you hard and rubbing up against you, but all he can think about is how badly he wants to capture all your facial expressions and imagery he couldn’t stop imagining while he was gone.

he breaks away from your lips breathlessly, “can I take a picture of you?”

you give him a bemused look, “what? like, now?”

he fiddles with the waistband of your underwear, not making eye contact. “well…in a few minutes..”

his timorous disposition gives you a solid clue of what he means and you smile up at him. “yeah?”

he finally meets your eyes, looking hopeful. “is that alright?”

“of course,” you nod and he leans back down against you, lips meeting your pulse point. “what brought this on?”

he noses at your neck, “jus’ missed you. a lot.”

you nod, pulling back and running a finger down to the tip of his nose. “take as many as you want.”

and he did.

his favorite pics are the ones he takes right when you cum, lips slightly parted, brow pinched. he’s also fond of the moments right when you’re just starting to feel it.

the photos of you on your knees, trying to take him in your mouth as much as you can really do something to him. your eyes watering and you holding his hand for support. he has to pace himself when he looks at those, especially the ones where you’re looking up at the camera.

he doesn’t usually like to be in the pictures, other than his dick in/against you or his hand splayed across your stomach or neck. he also has one or two where you’re riding him and his free hand is on your hip guiding you.

you’d have to be having a particular kind of sex for it to even occur to him to stop and take pictures. it only really happens during the easy times, when you’re both just having fun more than anything. it’s then when he’s really able to take his time with you and savor things, which is why the majority of your polaroids are taken then. he’s also more likely to be in a teasing mood then and not in a particular rush to get you where you’re going. a lot of those pictures show you smiling and completely relaxed which is another reason why he tends to revere those moments.

a grade A way to make him feel better after a long week is leaving him some surprise polaroids in the stash, it makes him crazy. he’s honestly just really obsessed with the idea that you trust him so much with those kinds of photos that you’d go out of your way to take some for him when he’s not even there. i actually think that’s at least half of what turns him on so much about the whole thing, the trust that you place in him and only him to not only see you in those moments but also relive them afterwards. just pics of you in lingerie or even just one of his shirts—it’s over for him.

[pupkashi]

the last person you expect to patch you up is gojo satoru, so why are you knocking on his door?

a/n: hi friends! i hope you enjoy this :] im not sure if i like it very much but I’ll let u guys pick it apart and decide if i should be run off the app or not :P please let me know what u guys think !!

wordcount: 1,376

masterlist

you’re hesitant to knock on the door you’re facing, one arm squeezing your middle and the other holding you up against the wall. you’re sure you looked like we’re about to die, but still you could help but feel like death was a better option than knocking on gojo satoru’s door at 2 in the morning.

the stinging in your side leaves you no choice, lifting your hand and knocking three times. every passing second seems eternal and you almost want to just walk away and head to campus, hoping you make it until morning.

the door swings open, satoru looks at you with wide eyes and messy hair. he looks so normal, you think, taking in his appearance of sweatpants and a t shirt he must’ve thrown on seconds before.

“what the fuck happened to you?” he breathes out, not hesitating to pick you up, carrying you to his restroom and flicking the light on. if you were any more lucid you might’ve caught the genuine concern in his voice and the pounding heart in his chest.

“think the higher ups hate me” you manage to chuckle out, sucking in a sharp breathe when you try to sit up on your own.

satoru is quick to help you up, large hands gently handling you. his brows are furrowed as he looks at the state you’re in.

“why didn’t you call up shoko or go to campus or- literally anything else?!” he scold you, his voice is a higher pitch than you’re used to, he’s running his hands through his hair, tugging slightly before sighing deeply and calming himself down.

“didn’t wanna bother ‘em” you say, voice small. gojo knows in his mind you of all people could never be a bother, especially when shoko absolutely loves you.

“can i take this off?” he asks softly, tugging at your uniform top. you nod weakly, letting him work the fabric off you gently, sucking his teeth when he sees the gash on your side.

“that bad huh?” you laugh, there’s a beat of silence that you find unbearable. your eyes are heavy and the only way you can muster staying awake is by talking, words leaving your mouth without even thinking, “not gonna tell me ‘I’ve had worse’ or ‘this is nothing’ ?”

satoru only brings himself to snicker, “you’re about to pass out and you still wanna bicker with me.”

“to be fair it’s always you starting shit” you chuckle, hissing when he starts cleaning your wound. satoru mumbles a small ‘sorry’ before continuing.

you weren’t completely wrong, satoru always loved seeing you riled up. he loved watching the way the fire ignited behind your eyes when you shot something back at satoru, he loved watching your nose scrunch up when he said something stupid, he loved how you’d fight back smiles when he disrespected some asshole higher up.

“yeah, yeah, you're always saying that” he smiles, finishing up whatever he could on your side before moving to the cuts on your face.

you were still as he gently dabbed the wipes on your face, the slight stinging feeling was the last thing on your mind. the smell of his body wash was muddling your thoughts, the way his fingertips brushed against your skin gave you goosebumps.

“who sent you on the mission?” his voice was no longer playful and light. there was an edge to his voice as he spoke, and you couldn’t stop the chills that ran down your spine.

the only thing you could muster was a small shrug of your shoulders.

“it was the higher ups from last time, wasn’t it? the one you stood up to?” his voice is threatening and low, blue eyes boring into you as you tried to avoid eye contact.

“y/n, look at me” the stern tone left no room for protest, looking at him and gulping. you nodded your head, whispering a small ‘yeah.’ satoru mumbled something you couldn’t hear, his jaw clenched and hands shaking slightly.

“I’m going to kill them” he spat, taking a step back before look at you again, the sight filling him with even more rage.

“didn’t you say that wouldn’t change anything?” you stated, sitting up as best you could, trying your best to hide the pain you felt from the sudden movement.

satoru ignored your words, already making a move to head out of the bathroom door, but your voice stopped him.

“don’t- i don’t wanna be alone” you whispered, eyes watering a bit as the reality of the situation hit you all at once. “i just- nevermind” you laughed dryly, hissing as you pushed yourself off the countertop and stood.

satoru was immediately at your side holding you up, “what are you-” your words cut him off before he could finish.

“I’m gonna go home, don’t wanna bother you more than i have” you smiled, eyes still a bit teary. you’re brain doesn’t process what’s happening fast enough, only realizing what’s happening a couple seconds later when satoru’s arms are wrapped around your body.

“you aren’t going anywhere” he mumbles against the top of your head, squeezing you gently.

the warmth of his body is enough to comfort you, muscles relaxing and letting your tears spill against his chest.

“why?” you whisper, the question causing satoru to tense up against you. “why do you care so much?”

his thoughts stop for a second, the only thing on his mind is you. the way you’re looking at him in a way you never have before, with an emotion he can’t place. he can only think of one thing.

“isn’t it obvious?” he replies, voice soft, his cheeks heating up and ears burning. he’s trying to hide the slight tremble of his hands as he caressed your cheek softly, thumb wiping away a stray tear.

“only obvious thing about you is your ego” you smile, laughing a bit between sniffles as satoru gasps at you.

“and you say i start things?” he giggles, picking you up softly before leading you to his bedroom. the two of you in a comfortable silence as he looks through his drawers, handing you one of his shirts and shorts for you to change into.

“you can drop me off at home-” you begin but satoru is quick to speak over you.

“I’ll sleep on the couch, there’s some toothbrushes in the top drawer under the sink,” he says, continuing to list off any other items you’d need and where to find them.

it’s ten minutes later and you’re laying in the large bed, staring at the ceiling when you find the energy to walk into the hallway, peeking around the corner and into the living room.

satoru smiled at you, the bright tv lights illuminating his figure, “cant sleep?” he asks. you nod your head, slowly making your way towards him. “c’mere” he says softly, gently moving you when you sit on the couch, letting you cuddle into his side until you were comfortable.

between the exhaustion and the comfort of satoru’s fingers running along your arm you were sound asleep in a matter of minutes (10, satoru was counting). he placed a feathery kiss to the top of you head, shifting to pick you up, carrying you to his bed and tucking you in, slipping besides you before facing the opposite direction.

you stirred a bit, mumbling something and causing satoru to turn, “y/n?” he whispered. you seemed to gravitate towards him, one of your arms finding him and tugging his shirt, making him come closer to you. still asleep, you nuzzled yourself against him, sighing softly before stilling again.

satoru draped his arm around you, keeping you close before letting his eyes shut. for tonight, he won’t think about the thing he’ll say and do to the higher ups who sent you on that mission as punishment.

instead he’ll hold you close, keeping you safe and making sure you’re well enough to argue on any and every thing possible. he’ll make you breakfast tomorrow and ask if you feel the same for him. he’ll rush you to shoko so he can kiss you with as much passion and fervor as he’s imagined since the time you almost beat him in an argument.

taglist (send an ask to be added!): @chilichopsticks @anime-for-the-sleepless @4sat0ruu @luna0713hunter @safaia-47 @nanamikentoseyebags

[flamingpudding]

Little Snippets #3

"Okay most importantly stay quiet and don't touch anything." Jason commanded as he stealthy snuck into one of Bruce's safe houses that had a weapon stash. "We don't want to trigger an alarm and alert the old man."

"You're saying that to the wrong guy dude. I am Ghost I can't really trigger any of that-" Danny started but was then cut of by Jason.

"Don't touch anything. The old man is paranoid..."

"Again, me ghost, well Halfa." Danny pointed out exaggerating when pointing at his self.

Jason rolled his eyes under his helmet as he turned to break into Bruce's newest safety lock on the weaponry in an attempt to make Jason stop 'borrowing' from him. "We got a deal kid. Don't touch anything."

"Yea, yea, you blow up the likely very illegal governmental GIW facility and help me free the others, and I will agree to meet someone..." Danny mutters, staring at something interesting he kind of really wanted to poke.

"Kid." Jason said warningly, not even needing to look to know Danny was about to touch something he shouldn't.

"Relax." The Halfa waved him of. "I am a ghost. It's not like anything will-"

Alarms started blaring when Danny's finger touched the object of interest, and Jason facepalmed, his hand smacking against his helmet.

[cjlouwho]

Just thinking about Tommy Kinard who grew up wishing he was hugged and loved like the neighbors kids were. He’d watch them run off the school bus and right into their mom or dad’s arms and be scooped up and held tight. Sometimes he could smell freshly baked cookies or a pot roast coming from their home as he’d turn the key and walk into his own house. His house where his dad would grunt at him for another beer and tell him to fix them both a frozen dinner (“just don’t eat my Salisbury steak, boy, that one’s mine”). Then one afternoon, when his dad caught him staring out the window at the neighbors all outside playing catch, he gave him a smack on the back of the head and told him to stop daydreaming. Those people were phonies who were never up to any good. Families like that don’t really exist, and they’re never as happy as they seem!

So Tommy buries away the idea he’ll have that. Stops watching the neighbors. Rolls his eyes when he does happen to catch one of their hugs. Grows a bit of a hardened shell.

Then he reaches high school and he thinks things will change now. He’ll have more freedom and friends and maybe he’ll join a club. But his dad tells him clubs are for sissies and he’s gonna be in sports instead. His dad is good friends with the football coach so he doesn’t have to try out. He’s just on the team, whether he likes it or not. And the other guys on the team are crude and constantly taunt and tease each other. Tommy doesn’t join in at first, would rather keep to himself, but that makes him an outcast and a loser and the butt of all their jokes so it’s easier to join in. His shell gets a little thicker.

Recruiters come to the school during his senior year and his grades are good, he could probably get a scholarship or two to a state university, but they promise so much. He’ll get to see the world! They have all these specialized programs he can choose from. They pay well and he’ll have the benefits forever. Most importantly, he’ll be away from his dad. The recruiter doesn’t have to work very hard that day. When Tommy leaves for basic he’s a little scared but mostly excited to be away! And the drill sergeants yell at him and taunt him just like the football team, just like his dad, but he can take it. He can and does prove them wrong.

He’s been wondering things about himself lately. Doesn’t let himself wonder very long though, or his heart races a bit too fast and he panics. There was this one time at basic where he had a moment alone and he jerked himself off but he didn’t use the Playboy magazines the other guys had hidden under their bunks. He thinks of Tyler instead. The guy who was in the bunk above him and had tan skin and muscles all over and a million dollar smile. When he was done, after he caught his breath, he got angry with himself. Put a fist through a wall and got in a good amount of trouble. But the other guys thought he did it because he wanted to show the sergeant how strong he was. They thought it was funny and kinda cool. Even later, as a pilot in Iraq, when he has a moment alone, he’s never thinking about a woman. His shell thickens more.

Then he’s out of the army and he’s becoming a firefighter and he thinks maybe this is when he can relax. So he goes and meets his captain, someone named Vincent Gerrard, and he can tell within thirty seconds of meeting him that this man is a carbon copy of his father. He hasn’t been the butt of a joke in a long time, and he sure as hell isn’t going to start back now, so he plays the game. And he plays it damn well.

These shells keep thickening and thickening until he’s not actually sure who he is anymore. He’s spent years being whoever he needs to be to survive and it’s becoming exhausting. Even when Gerrard leaves and Nash arrives, even when his smile actually starts to reach his eyes, he still feels wrong. So he makes a choice. He leaves.

He goes back to flying, which he loved in the army. The freedom of being in the sky was unlike anything else in life. He hears a coworker talk about therapy and he gives it a try. It’s uncomfortable and stressful but he goes back each week and yeah, okay, maybe it does help. He can feel his posture relaxing a bit at least.

He allows himself to be honest with himself. He looks in the mirror one night and takes a deep breath and says the words “I’m gay” for the first time and then he repeats it over and over and over again even as tears fall down his face.

All the shells are starting to crack.

He gets a call from Howie, who he would do anything for without question, and this particular ask gets him reacquainted with Hen, renewed friendship with Howie, a new friendship with Eddie, and a boyfriend with Evan.

Evan. Evan who meets Tommy at the door whenever he’s there, arms open and a smile on his face, ready to hold onto Tommy like it’s his job. There’s usually delicious food cooking that Tommy can smell from the driveway. Evan, who picks up Christopher or Jee and they head to the park or museum for an outing. Evan, who notices that Tommy really likes to draw so he joins a drawing club for the both of them and even though Evan himself is not great at drawing he’s always so excited for them to go together.

Evan, whose kisses linger on his body like a prayer. Whose touch burns his skin in the best way. Who gasps and grunts and grabs and whispers in his ear as their sweaty, muscular bodies practically meld into one. There’s laughter and smiles afterward, as they hold onto each other and fall asleep pressed against one another.

Evan, who makes loving easy to do. Who gives his whole heart and then some. Who breaks whatever was left of Tommy’s shell and makes him realize that the type of love he wanted all those years ago, even as a little kid, was real. It was possible. And he had it.

[iinryer]

a little scene prompt game to get me writing!

from @eddiesgaymustache: “what about 3....... 😳🤝🫠 or 🌈🦭✨ ........ the world is your oyster”

[😳🤝🫠 + 3: hiding face in neck]

“Don’t think I can’t see that!” Chim calls, sing-songy and bright, from where he’s making his way to the kitchen.

Eddie tears himself away and immediately tucks his hands under his own arms, face burning. Buck just makes a disgruntled sound from where he’s been dozing with his head tilted against the back of the sofa for the past fifteen minutes, now awoken and obviously confused.

“Oh god, what are they doing now,” Hen drops her book down from where she was reading at the table, holding her empty coffee cup up for Chim to grab over her shoulder on his way past. Despite the implication of reproach, her tone is much too gleeful for Eddie’s liking. He narrows his eyes at her. She grins lazily back at him.

“I was literally asleep!” Buck groans—whines, maybe—scrubbing at his eyes, “What did I do!”

“PDA!” Chimney shouts, head in the cabinet where he’s rummaging around, before emerging with a jar of peanut butter and continuing, “PDA is what you did!”

Hen makes a disappointed tsk tsk tsk sound, putting on an air of aloofness and pretending as though she’s already returned to reading her book when she adds, “We did have an agreement,”

“The agreement!,” Chimney echoes, clenching a fist theatrically, “is nothing sacred in this house?”

“Ugh,” Buck pouts, matching Chimney’s energy, “you’re so dramatic. We’re not allowed to sit next to each other anymore?”

Eddie sinks a little into the sofa, absolutely burning with the flush across his face.

“Sitting, I can forgive. But hand-holding?,” Chim says, closing a drawer as punctuation, “I dare say that’s a public display of affection, little brother,”

Buck’s posturing immediately melts into sleepy fondness as his gaze snaps to Eddie, and says, “Aw… you were holding my hand?”

Which just causes Hen and Chim to break out into a chorus of gagging and groaning.

“Alright, alright,” Bobby placates from where he’s cresting the stairs to the loft, amusement clearly painted across his put-upon captain’s demeanor, “I think they have a right to a little unobtrusive hand holding,”

“Excuse you!” Chim says with mock affront, pointing with the spoonful of peanut butter he’s just scavenged, “It is my right—nay, my privilege—nay! My duty! My privileged duty, as newly minted brother, to embarrass one Evan Buckley,”

Eddie opens his mouth to argue that Buck is not the only one being embarrassed here, when Chimney directs his peanut butter scepter Eddie’s way and adds,

“And if his boyfriend gets caught in the crossfire,” he pauses for dramatic effect, before decreeing with a lofted spoon: “so be it!”

And the thing is, it’s new.

The boyfriend of it all.

And it just makes his flush blaze anew as something pleased and hungry and elated blooms so strongly and suddenly in his chest and has to fold over into Buck.

“Ohh, that got you, huh?” Buck coos, teasing and affectionate and full of love as he wraps an arm around Eddie’s shoulders, easily accepting the way Eddie tucks his face into the juncture of his shoulder and neck to hide his blush.

The heckling picks up, Buck shakes with laughter underneath him, and Eddie snakes his arm across Buck’s lap to grasp onto his hand again.

[cashmoneyyysstuff]

close to you . .

just like me, they long to be. .

" what the hell are you doing ?"

you look away from your screen to stare at your boyfriend from beneath the mountain of pillows you’re laying under. there are snacks ranging from sweet to salty strewn all around your bed and a spot right next to you saved specifically for him.

you raise a brow " i’m watching my show." you state. katsuki’s eye twitches. he stalks towards you slowly, menacingly, like he’s waiting for the perfect opportunity to pounce at you. you shove your chin and nose underneath your blankets.

"you’re watching our show. " he corrects, squinting at you "you’re watching. our show." he reiterates.

"katsu-"

" our show. an’ yer fuckin’ watching it without me." he glares daggers into your fucking soul and with the rage of a thousand suns as he spits the words out like they had somehow caused him harm.

"you said i could start without you last time !" you defend weakly. he rolls his eyes as he stomps over to you and climbs into your bed "yeah, last time, but this ain’t last fuckin’ time, dumbass." he growls. you whine when he lifts up your blankets and the cold air nips at you. "oh shut up, big baby, weren’t whinin’ when ya decided ta watch the one show you know we watch together." his words are mean but he scoots impossibly closer to you

you scoot over to make some extra space for him so he can lay down comfortably before squeezing yourself right next to him again. “you’re the one who said, and i quote ‘ i could give less of a shit about this stupid show, just don’t have anything better to do” he scrunches his nose at your crude impression of him. “ i don’t fuckin’ sound like that.”

“it’s what you sound like to me.” you retort.

he growls, nipping at your ear which causes you to let out a giggle mixed with a little squeal “needa get yer fuckin’ ears checked then.”

“i just started anyway. i can just rewind it” you lean forward to place your mouse back to the beginning and plop back on your pillow with a groan. katsuki snorts. “ i was gonna wait for you, but you were taking too long” you mumble out already invested in the images on screen.

katsuki knocks his forehead against the side of your head softly then also turns his attention to the screen. “ it’s shitty hair’s fault” he gruffs out “fucker kept on yappin’ about whatever the fuck, couldn’t leave.”

you fake gasp in shock. pretending to be hurt you place a hand on your chest and look at him wide eyed. he raises a brow “wow. i can’t believe you like kirishima more than me.” you turn your nose up at him and hold back a laugh when you see his expression morph from confused to straight up insulted.

“where the fuck d’you get that from?!” you can’t keep up the façade when you see his face and burst out laughing, his facial expressions are seriously something else. he relaxes slightly but he still doesn’t look amused. “i’m just joking. i know you just wanted to be nice” you reassure, his face relaxes and his shoulders sag as he releases a frustrated sigh. “you know, since he’s your friend.”

he cracks his head to look at you, wide eyed and brows furrowed he shoves his head against yours so hard he basically headbutts you. you let out a little yelp and laugh “don’t even start with that ! fucker ain’t my friend." he spits the word friend like it tastes gross in his mouth, it makes you laugh even harder. “right~” you sing.

you think things have calmed down after a little bit, your both watching your show, then katsuki suddenly knocks his forehead against your head again.

“hey.” he mumbles. you blink up at him waiting for him to finish. he chews at his lip and looks towards the screen then looks back at you, cheeks turning pink.

"ya know i don’t…like him more than you, right..?"

you tilt your head "who ?" you ask. he grunts like speaking is physically challenging, his face turning redder by the second “shitty hair. don’t like ‘im more than you." his eyes dart away then focus back on yours " don’t like anyone more than you."

you feel your cheeks flush and you suddenly feel extremely warm and giddy. you giggle and his cheeks darken in color "where's this coming from?" you chortled. he scoffs at you and pokes you in the stomach, turning back to the look at the screen to avoid your mushy warm loving gaze. "fuckin'—nowhere ! m'not allowed to…fuckin—!" he fumbles around for what to say. you decide to spare him and place your hands on his scorching cheeks, he struggles a little bit (barely) but let's you turn his head towards you, he pouts at you, trying his best to look intimidating but he just looks like a angry little kicked puppy.

"m'just teasing you , suki" you're rubbing his cheek with your thumb and his eyebrows stay furrowed despite him leaning into your touch "i know you don't like him more than me, if you did, i don't think you'd be here" he rolls his eyes and bites at the palm of your hand. you chuckle "i don't like anyone more than you, either" you're sure there are hearts in your eyes as you speak, you hope he can see them.

" 'f course you don’t." he mumbles out the words into your palms fast without missing a beat, it tickles. he smirks into your hand when he sees you roll your eyes at him, he truly is a little shit.

"don't like nobody more than you." he proclaims quietly, closing his eyes, his long lashes brushing against his cheeks.

"yeah" you purr, the hearts in your eyes spread all around your body to the tips of your fingers and toes, it makes you warm and soft, and so fond of him. you don't like anybody more than katsuki, you can't. not when he opens his eyes and gazes at you with burning cheeks but hearts in his eyes and you hope the ones in yours spread all around his body too, because his have started to intermingle with yours, coursing through your veins.

"yeah." you sigh, " yeah me neither."

you can't like anyone more than you do katsuki as you watch your show together.

@slashersl0t i wrote this thanks to you twin <3 !

[riminiscensce]

cooking with jiaoqiu in your kitchen would definitely be something if you’re not that big on cooking at all.

specifically when you don’t label your shit, yk? like you get used to ordering food way too often that you forgot which one is sugar and which is salt.

that’s when jiaoqiu comes in. literally will scoop some from the jar with his finger and shove it in your mouth for you to find out (one of his pet peeves would probably be unlabelled condiments).

you’d be lucky if the contents of the jar were sugar, that wouldn’t be much of an issue. “so, did you find out?” but in this case, he had just shoved a finger-full of iodized salt into your mouth, you can imagine just how salty that is.

while you’re busy with flooding your mouth with water to cleanse the taste, jiaoqiu is probably giggling his ass off.

most likely saying some things along the lines of, “have we learned our lesson?” you did, in a rather briny way.

after that, not only did he help you cook food, but he also ushered you to name some of the unlabelled seasonings and condiments in your kitchen.

considering he’s a good cook, he probably knows which seasoning is which at a glance. but would he help you with identifying them? haha no. find out on your own.

jiaoqiu won’t help you when you’re trying to figure out which one is curry powder or spice powder. you’d have to taste it yourself or guess correctly or let him take another big scoop with his finger to shove it in your mouth.

bonus points if you have low spice tolerance and he feeds you the spice powder. he’d enjoy seeing that. probably.

just clarifying that the no label thing will only probably annoy him if he’s cooking in a different/unfamiliar kitchen 💀 and also I don’t think salt and sugar have a distinct smell (he could smell it considering he’s a foxian) so 🤷🏻‍♀️

[zevrra]

not enough !! ੈ✩‧₊˚

—♡. v!choso who suddenly can’t stop thinking about bending you over this desk and fucking you until he can’t take it anymore. his thoughts run wild even as your fingers move across his broad shoulders and down his arms. he has tasted your lips, felt your body press against him one too many times and it wasn’t enough. he needed more and with the blood pumping in his ears as your chest weighs heavy on his back once again as your hand wraps around his cock, stroking him off, he’s struggling to stay under control. biting his bottom lip with the threat of making it bleed as he watches your hand stroke his leaking cock.

—♡. choso who cums into your hand with his tie stuffed into his mouth to keep himself quiet. but even with the cloth in his mouth it doesn’t fully muffle the deep, animalistic and wild groan that he makes. rutting into your hand like a desperate man who’s just had his first taste of pleasure. he grips the table in front of him until his knuckles turn white. all the while you kiss the shell of his ear. “mmm yeah baby, you thinkin’ bout my pussy?” you ask with a lustful chuckle, removing his tie from his mouth with your other hand.

—♡. choso groans deeply at your words and nods eagerly in return. “yes! ‘s all i can — fuck — think about!” he admits in a high pitched whine as he rides out the last few moments of his orgasm. his honesty makes you smile wide as you kiss the side of his neck, your hand moving much easier over his messy cock now. “let me fuck you, please, please i need it! i need to feel your pussy around me.” he sobs as your thumb presses into the head of his pretty red cock, trembling under your touch.

—♡. “hmm you sure you want me to be your first?” you ask in a sweet tone. choso cries in response, one of his hands leaving the desk only to wrap his long fingers around your wrist. “mphm! pleaseee. want you i can’t fucking take it anymore!” he mumbles between hiccups as your hand continues to stroke his sensitive shaft. luckily enough for him, you planned to make his wish come true just not yet. you needed to tease him just a little longer before giving him what he truly desires.

[lostinmycolor]

"darling," he whispers, ever so softly, the rasp in his voice reverberating through you and making you shiver. he chuckles silently at the little squeaks that leave your lips whenever your hips slam down on his cock as you look down at him with those pretty eyes of yours. for some reason, whenever he looks into them, they remind him of the stars he was so close to once upon a time. something that should be a bad memory but really isn't because you make it more nostalgic, in some kind of mysterious way. you almost make him miss it.

your hands are gripping onto his shoulders for dear life, nails digging into his skin in a way that should be painful, but instead just makes everything feel ten times better. he has a hand on your hip, gripping it firmly, his fingers forming slight dents in your skin. his free hand is wandering over your body, moving up from your clit to your tits, pinching your sensitive buds. he swears he's falling even more in love with you when you toss your head back and let out a long whine of pleasure when he does so. you look so beautiful.

how are you even real? he wonders. he's never had eyes for anyone the way he has eyes for you. he's seen and experienced so many beautiful things, explored so many different worlds in his dreams, in his past lives, but none of them compare to you. anything in any universe that is considered beautiful is nothing when it comes to you.

the way you moan his name is like the strings that play in his mind when he's feeling the rush of his highs, but somehow you're always able to make them sound like a beautiful symphony instead of just a jumble of noise like it used to be, before you. he wonders what type of magic you hold inside of you that makes you capable of making even the ugliest and most broken of things look so beautiful. he notices your legs are giving up on you and smiles at how endearing it is, the fact that you're practically struggling, but you need him so badly you're doing everything you can to keep up your movements. his hand grips your hip tighter, almost enough to bruise your skin, and he moves his free hand to your lower back to help you keep your balance.

he wonders, for a moment, if he knew you in the past life, or all those years ago. he can't really remember since it's been so long, and the memories of when he was cast out of heaven clouded his brain. but it's almost as if he can see for a brief second, something otherworldly when he looks at you, the way your skin glows with splendor when your back arches as you cum on his cock. for a moment it's like you're a real life angel right in front of him, it's such a sight to behold. was god testing him? were you sent to him as a lesson in disguise? would you be gone as soon as this was all over? whatever it was, he didn't care, as long as he got to feel you as close as possible even if you turned out to not be real when he opened his eyes again.

it's almost a relief when he does and he sees you there, still on top of him, panting heavily, eyes hooded, hair sticking to your face. a beautiful mess. the most gorgeous thing he's ever seen. he's so in love with you. he reaches up to brush your hair off of your damp cheeks, smiling and delicately taking your chin to make you look at him, his thumb brushing over your lower lip, the way you lean down to kiss him and smile against his lips making everything feel a little more real.

more real and alive, he thinks. he's never felt more alive than when he sees you like this—beautiful and wild and messy in all the right ways, all for him, because of him. there was nothing better than being able to love you in such a pure way, without repercussion, no matter how terrifying it was, because you remind him of himself before everything. before the jealousy and fury, before he fell from heaven and got his wings stripped from his back, before he was disowned by god himself. the fallen angel was redeemed from the depths of hell and found his heaven in your embrace, in your eyes, in you. you're everything he's ever wanted.

[maythedreadwolftakeyou]

thinking about Lucanis again (always). and how so much of his narrative boils down to the theme of "control". and of course also about how this applies to the Rook x Lucanis relationship.

like the first scenes with him in the game are, in theory, about freeing him from the Ossuary (although he seems to have an escape attempt already in progress at the time, they certainly weren't just letting him keep those knives on him for enrichment purposes, Rook just provided an opening/distraction he could take advantage of and crucially Rook has A Way Out of the whole place not just a cell). but ACTUALLY the purpose it to put him right into a new contract for Us, one set up by his own grandmother and first talon no less, and the person he has the MOST trouble saying no to. He's escaped torture and the Venatori for sure but he still isn't free, which I think is part of what leads to Spite's confusion/the Inner Demons plotline. He agrees to the contract but you can tell it's in many parts out of a sense of duty/mourning vs something he actively wants to do for himself. And then the FIRST real heartfelt conversation you have with him, where he tells you "even before I was captured, my life was not really my own. So much had been determined for me." But he's chaffaing at that! He thinks "to live truly is to live fully" and so directly tells you he doesn't think he's lived a life true to himself. He's been constantly smothered by the weight of expectations around him, even though he longs for more.

And then once you get him to the Lighthouse you see how this Big lack of control in his life comes out as all these smaller frustrations. He's terrified of sleeping and downing 11 cups of coffee per hour because sleeping means he will lose control to Spite, even though Spite is shown to flee rather than fight when he feels threatened, and once calmed down, is more drawn to just benign curiosity/mischief than anything actively malicious. Like if Lucanis loses control and sleeps for a few hours he is not going to wake up surrounded by bloodshed, he's going to wake up to a belly full of candle wax because he wouldn't like Spite taste one while they were awake. Which is the other half of this--he constantly denying Spite's impulses for reasons that in some ways make sense (HE doesn't want to eat candles), but not in a way that's actually satisfying to either of them (why not just take a bite, chew for a bit, and spit it out so Spite knows they kind of suck actually?). But he CAN say no to Spite and so he does. Over and over. Spite's one of the few people he can deny things without feeling bad about it, because it's HIS body he doesn't like that has to share now (<- this is what he thinks about it at first anyway, but he's wrong, it's both of theirs and it's useless to try to hold those kind of boundaries forever. but the "no its mine" spiteful instinct is very beautifully ironic and reflective of them both and their early relationship).

And personally I think this is where his fear of his own desires and intimacy is coming from, at the root. I don't think he's afraid of the concept of being in a romance or having feelings (even if they're unusual and rare for him, this is by no means incompatible with him being demi) but I DO think he is afraid of the kind of power it gives people over you. Getting something you want means there's something else that can be taken away. Admitting your desire means the other person has the opportunity to deny that. The more you have, the more you have to lose, and he has lost again and again and again in his life--his parents, his childhood to the crows, his independence, even his future--he doesn't aspire to be first Talon but he knows the rumors. He knows his grandmother wanted it for him, not Illario. His life path has been laid out for him by others and up to this point he has simply been going along with it anyway, even though it bothers him. He COULD argue and fight Caterina and push for Illario who actually wants the job to be First Talon instead, but from The Wigmaker Job we know he doesn't. He just ignores it and pretends maybe it won't happen, without him having to do any of the work. Which is why in the end Illario is the one who has to make a move about it (and even warns Lucanis of this!!!!). Lucanis KNOWS all this makes him a target but is neither taking charge or getting off of the train tracks, just closes his eyes.

And I think THIS context is what makes the almost kiss scene in the pantry make more sense to me. Rather than being afraid of having feelings (and then NEVER addressing this in game with a Rook who pursues him anyway) or not knowing how to finish what he's started via crow seduction training, it's more like this is a pivotal moment where he can actively choose to step off the planned path of be given a job -> kill the gods -> enact revenge -> go home. even if he doesn't at that point realize that a relationship with Rook could be something that lasts long-term, the very act of doing something just for himself is what's foreign and scary and hard. It's that first step off the tracks, and even if he were to keep walking in the same direction, it means he's making a choice about it. he's accepting that one way or another it IS in his power to go along with everyone else's plans or not. Hence the hesitation, and drawing back, and needing to clear his head.

And then the rest of Rook's role in his narrative IS about giving him more and more control for himself. Inner Demons, dealing with Illario, his questlines move less towards revenge and more towards just... not being locked into one fate. Which of course Caterina comes back and immediately tries to overturn by declaring him First Talon after all, even though she and him and everyone else knows she's not ACTUALLY ready to give up her rule/decision making power yet. Which in a way is maddening because cmon I did all this work here so this sad man could have some agency in his own life just to watch him get sucked right back in (which, at least we get many directions to headcanon from here), but there's no denying that THIS version of Lucanis at least is actually going in with his eyes open now. THIS Lucanis has had a taste of life outside the Crows, and seen the politics and power dynamics in other places/organizations, and finally has emotional ties to the big picture state of the world now, both in relationship and friendship paths with Rook. He's not just hyper focused on each contract as it's given to him now, he's looking at the whole thing.

Anyway of course the beautiful culmination of all this within the romance is the lighthouse scene with Rook, where he finally is willing to let himself be vulnerable (emotionally and physically), and fall asleep without fear of what Spite's going to do in the meanwhile. He also (depending on dialogue choice) finally talks about his feelings directly with you for the first time instead of in roundabout ways (the dessert being "not enough" is it really the dessert you mean, Lucanis. is it.). Even though he is STILL reluctant to verbally admit his feelings or let Rook share their own at this point, I think that's more a narrative choice about saving those last emotional dialogue options for the big final battle. but it is another point where he does have to stop just following along and ACTIVELY choose that yes, yes sometimes loving is worth the risk of losing it. Even if someone takes it away from you later, even if you don't survive it, sometimes the love alone makes it worth it.

I have like another 5000 words I could add into about how Spite ties into all this, about how having the demon in him is something he both fears AND how it forces him to acknowledge that actually yes he DOES share the same base feelings/instincts Spite does in terms of not wanting to be told what to do. And how this in a way is part of what gives him permission to act on it since he can no longer just shove it down out of sight. but this post is long enough already so i'm just going to take the rest of this and gnaw on it all day like a chew toy I guess.

anyway. AHG. it is kind of frustrating that the culmination of his arc seems to be "and then he got the job he never wanted anyway" but I do think at least all this prepares him for it in a way Caterina actively failed to actually do on her own. He NEEDED that step away from his straightforward path. Whether he stays first talon or not, and with or without rook as a romantic partner, he's finally been able to explore ideas outside the expectations of others.

[kingbeeleth]

chill chilchuck dungeon meshi. chillchuck if you will