#there is nothing innocent about this anymore

[ds-angel1]

Bunny - brotherly love

cw: SMUT(18+), incest, piv sex, dubcon, hand job, finger sucking, nipple/titties play, reader being pervy and sneaking into Rafe´s room while he´s sleeping, age gap(18 and 25), DEAD DOVE: DO NOT EAT!!

wc: ~ 1,6k

a/n: first post and first fic, pls dont cancel me... yay

You knew it was vile, you knew it was dark and twisted.

You tried to stop—oh, how you tried--wrestling with shadows in your mind, drowning your thoughts in the shallow pools of distraction.

But they rose like whispers through the flood, unyielding, unrelenting. No, it didn’t work. It never did.

You still bit your lip every time he was shirtless. Your chest still flushed every time he was in your near vicinity. You still imagined him every time you reached your nimble fingers into your cotton panties.

Rafe.

Your brother.

It all started because of a simple joke. One that your friends made.

“Stop, oh my god, your brother is so hot, I’d let him hit so hard,” your best friend giggled as she munched on the popcorn you had cooked up for all 4 of you for movie night.

“Oh, hell yes!” Interjected another of your friends, her voice enthusiastic, “I would let him hit even if I was his sister!”

The living room erupted in giggles before they disappeared and the girls surrounding you focused their attention on the movie again.

Your attention stayed on the topic prior though. On him. Like any human mind would, your thoughts conjured up a realistic third-person image of your big brother fucking you. But what your mind did that not any human mind would do, was like the idea. Your eyes stared at the floor as you pictured the feeling, the view, the sounds. You clenched your thighs and bit your bottom lip—

“Hey, watcha nerds doin’?” He asked with a smirk as he appeared from behind, clad in only sweatpants.

You felt your cheeks flush at the realization of what you had been fantasizing about.

“Nothing, just watching a movie,” you muttered.

“Gee, no need to be so cold, bunny,” he laughed as he ruffled your hair. Bunny was a nickname he came up with for you. When you were 3 years old you just loved hopping around so 10-year-old Rafe decided to call you Bunny. It stuck. He perpetually calls you Bunny even now, 15 years later when you wouldn’t call yourself much of a hopper.

You had always been close. He was a great big brother, protective, and kind, always played with you when your parents were too busy. When you had a nightmare as a kid, you wouldn’t come rushing to your parent’s room, no, you´d sprinted to Rafe’s.

Innocent nights where he comforted you to sleep in his bed. But now you were imagining being in his bed again, but not him comforting you; him fucking you relentlessly. Nothing innocent about that.

Right now you were tossing and turning in your pink, fluffy sheets. You had rutted against a pillow for almost an hour, trying to block out his face but it just kept coming, then you rubbed your aching clothed core for what seemed like an eternity but the need and desperation never subsided.

The need and desperation for your brother.

When you threw your head to the side and saw that the purple, flower-decorated clock on your wall read 2 A.M., you just couldn’t take it anymore. You threw your blanket off of your body, yanking your legs to the side of your bed and then your body to stand.

With as much sneakiness and smoothness as you could conjure up, you slipped out of your bedroom, the patter of your feet fon the firm grey carpet in the hall sounding like church bells in your ears.

Right before the end of the hall, you turned your body left, finding yourself face to face with Rafe’s room. “KEEP OUT” stood in bold messy letters on a burgundy sign hung on the door.

Your parents never really paid much attention to it and just stormed in whenever they wanted. He was a 25-year-old still living with his parents, who could blame them for ignoring his rules?

Your fingers played with the hem of your nightgown nervously before you lifted one of your hands to slowly push down the door handle and crack the door open.

The small creak that came from the wood moving made you cringe in fear. Once the space was wide enough for you to fit, you entered his room.

There he was, lying sprawled out on his black satin bed cover, hair unruly and spiked. His body lay wide and stretched out on the mattress, his boxers the only thing covering him. His blanket lay on the ground as it seemed to always after he slept, even as a kid he did backflips and dances in his slumber.

The thoughts in your mind that screamed that this was wrong were drowned out by the sight of the slight bulge in his boxers.

You knew it was wrong. So so wrong. But you couldn’t bring yourself to care.

You climbed onto the bed, crawling towards where he lay. He looked cute like this, snoring ever so slightly and a tiny bit of drool accumulating in the corner of his mouth.

Anxiously you moved on top of him, making sure to not let a single fiber of your legs or arms touch him.

After you had hyped yourself up enough to do it, you leaned back, letting your ass hit his thighs in a gentle fluid motion and your hands find his chest.

A moment of silence overtook the room and once you were sure he was still asleep you started moving again. Your hands found their way to his boxers, gripping the elastic band at the top and then without a single bit of haste pulling it down. Your hips lifted off of him and you dragged the plaid material all the way down to his shins and calves.

He stirred a bit, the cold air hitting his now bare crotch waking him a bit but he quickly settled into sleep again.

When you were extremely sure he was out cold again you finally let your eyes travel down. His half-hard cock, pretty and pink, barely at its full length and potential, and yet still managed to make you softly whimper out loud.

With a shaky hand, you reached forward, wrapping your small fingers around his thick base and pumping a few times. You weren’t a stranger to this, but this felt different. And no, not because he was your brother and it felt wrong. No, it felt right. Perfect.

A groan fell from his lips and he twisted his upper body, eyes squeezing shut even more tightly. At the sudden noise and movement, you immediately pulled your hand back, eyes widening in fear and worry.

In a desperate attempt to flee the scene, you kneeled up fully, accidentally brushing one of your plush tights against his tip.

It seemed that that was the only sensation left to wake him as a moment later you found yourself staring straight into your brother’s icy blue eyes.

His gaze left yours as he gained consciousness, pupils flicking around and taking in everything.

“What the fuck are you doing?!” He whisper-shouted, confusion, anger and something else you hoped was desire present on his features.

“Um…” Your brain was frozen, all you could do was stare at him in horror as you knelt over him.

“You’re my fucking sister! And you’re 18! We could get fucking arrested! Me especially, you—“ he cut off before he could finish that thought as he saw your eyes watering.

“Hey, hey, don’t cry,” he half ordered, half reassured, “Bunny, it’s gonna be okay. This never happened, okay? Go back to your room and—“ yet again he didn’t finish his sentence. This time it was because he had gripped your hips, hoping to lift you off of him, but instead, he accidentally brushed your nightdress up a bit and revealed your naked sex to him.

“Fuuuuck,” he groaned, “God, Bunny…”

Nothing happened for a few seconds, silence and stillness taking over the bedroom. Then without warning he grasped your hips even tighter and sank you onto his thick, throbbing cock, causing you to moan and whimper out loudly.

Quickly, Rafe’s hand shot up, stuffing three fingers into your mouth to shut you up.

“Shh, Bunny, don’t want mommy and daddy hearing you now, do we?” His voice whispered sharply between heavy panted breaths.

You rolled your hips, gagging on his fingers as they roughly probed down your throat.

“Fuck, such a little slut for your big brother, huh Bunny?” He tantalized, hissing as you started bouncing up and down on his cock.

Your eyes rolled to the back of your head, his blunt tip hitting that perfect spot on your cervix every damn time. When he forced your dress down your shoulders and took one of your rosy pink buds into his mouth you felt as if your eyes could do a whole 360-degree spin.

You were sure the scene looked vulgar, a big brother letting his barely legal sister ride him, his mouth vigorously sucking, nipping, and lavishing her nipples, his fingers in her mouth to shut her up, drool running down the corners of her mouth and right into his own at your breasts. It was disgusting. Perfect.

It wasn’t long before you were choking and sputtering around his fingers that you were going to come, snapping your hips up and down faster and faster.

“Come for me, Bunny, be a good little sister, and come for your big brother.”

His words pushed you to your limit, clenching around his pipe unbelievably tight and coming. The feeling of your wet warmth snug around him made him quickly follow, shooting his load into you.

After a few more rolls of your hips, you had both come down from your highs and Rafe had removed his digits from your mouth. The room was filled with breathless pants and quiet shuffling now and then.

Finally, Rafe spoke up, his voice silent yet it spoke volumes of what he was feeling.

“Fuck.”

[rosenclaws]

Valentines Day Blues || Worst!Logan x Reader

summary: Logan has never really cared about Valentines day until he met you, but despite his best efforts nothing seems to be working out for him.

warnings: angst to fluff, a little spice at the end but no smut, logan's self doubt and slight anger issues, happy ending.

wc: 2.8k

a/n: This is my entry for Loveuary event by @lubdubology and @yxtkiwiyxt! I had pick worst logan my love and add some angst bc I love angst but it all works out for our boy <3 Happy (Early) Valentines day guys!!

Sometimes Logan wonders why he even tries anymore. It's like the world is out to get him specifically. All he wanted was to plan one perfect day. Just one day where he can prove to you, to himself that he's more than a fuck up.

Logan has never really cared about Valentines Day. He's celebrated before. You know gone to dinner, to the movie, had a few hook ups. When he lived at the mansion he remembers the heart decorations and all the red and pink. The kids sharing valentines and watching them experience their first love. But thinking back on his long life there just wasn't anything about the holiday that stood out to him.

For Logan, things just never seemed to work out. Love wasn't his thing. He had lost the ones he loved. He hadn't thought about it, felt it, for years. It never even crossed his mind anymore. Too afraid of losing yet another lover. He went about his life, a shell of the man he used to be. A disgrace to the name X-Men and a monster parents tell their children about at night.

Until Wade showed up and everything changed. He's a hero now, well he's not a villain in the eyes of citizens. He'll take it. He could be free to live again, to make friends, enjoy life. To heal and live in memory of his fallen friends rather than run away from the pain. He doesn't think he'll ever forgive himself, but he can start by being a better man.

It's been so long since Logan felt love that he didn't even recognize it at first. He didn't understand why his heart beat faster, why he felt sweaty, why his stomach twisted and turned by just your mere presence. He thought it was something else.

Maybe you're a mutant and were using your powers on him. Maybe you had heard what he had done and decided that he wasn't worthy of redemption. He avoided you like the plague. Unable to shake whatever you were doing to him no matter how hard he tried. It wasn't until Wade slapped him on the back of the head and spelled it out in big bold letters.

He had a crush.

Logan just scoffed. A crush? That word...It felt so juvenile. A crush is something between two kids who stare at each other from across the classroom. A crush is small and innocent and Logan is far too old and far too worn to be crushing on Wade's friend. But he could only lie to himself for so long. It wasn't a crush. No that wasn't the right word.

He was in love. When he started creeping back into your life it hit him full force. Took him by the neck and shook him until it all clicked. He longed for your attention, to be close to you. To make you laugh, to watch you smile. He wanted to hold you at night, to hear your voice when he drifted off to sleep and to wake up the next morning with you by his side. He was utterly fucked.

It was funny really. Especially to Wade, I mean how clueless could a man be? You would think two hundred years of experience would mean he could pick up on these things. But Logan doesn't notice those things anymore.

He's so in his own head he never even noticed that you were mirroring his feelings. That the mere sight of Logan was enough to make you weak in the knees. That his laugh, as rare as it was to hear, was music to your ears. That you were heartbroken when he started to avoid you, anxiety filling your brain about why the man just couldn't stand to be around you.

Wade treated it as his own rom com. Making popcorn and watching the longing looks shared between the two of you. Except Wade wasn't a patient person and he wasn't trying to watch a slow burn where both of you refuse to talk. So he pushed you two together. Spilling both your secrets right in front of each other and walking away like he didn't just change your lives forever. But it worked. You had to give him that at least. Even if Logan really didn't want to give Wade any credit ever.

Logan remembers that night like it was yesterday. You took his hand, so nervous to look him in the eyes. He locked your fingers together, squeezing your hand softly and tilting your chin to look at him. Colossus passes by and using the man as cover he kisses you. He could hear a faint "Oh come on! What is this Disney Channel?" From Wade but he pays it no mind.

Since that day Logan has vowed to spend every moment being the man you deserve. You tell him that you love him but sometimes it's hard to believe. How could someone like you love a man like him? Your heart was too good for him. Too bright to be with a man who wasn't even sure he had a heart just a year ago.

But nevertheless you're still here and Valentines day is fast approaching. This is his chance to show you how much he loves you. To buy you the perfect gift and plan the perfect date. If he could do this, he could be just a fraction of a man good enough for you.

He wanted to make you breakfast. To dress up nice and proper for once with flowers in his hands. A picnic at the park. To watch the sunset together all wrapped up in blankets. A night time drive that ends in a passionate night.

But life has other plans.

The day starts with a broken alarm clock. Logan groans as he wakes up, reaching out for you only to feel an empty bed. He shoots awake, looking at the clock to see that it was well past breakfast time.

"Fuck!" He hisses as he throws the covers off and scrambles to the kitchen. To his dismay you're already awake and eating. His heart sinks, failure number one.

"Hi honey, how did you sleep?" You ask sweetly as you wrap your arms around his waist, sighing happily as you hug your boyfriend.

"Alright, I meant to wake up earlier than this." He mumbles as he holds you tight. He tries not to show his disappointment as he covers it with a smile. He still has his other plans, the day is just starting.

"That's okay, I'm glad you were able to get some rest." Logan huffs but nods along with you.

He pours himself a cup of coffee. He suddenly realizes to tell you something and pulls you back into him, kissing you fiercely. You squeak in surprise but melt into his embrace.

"What as that for?" You tease as he pulls away. Logan shrugs and kisses you again.

"Happy Valentines Day Sweetheart." He purrs. You giggle as he buries his face in your neck.

"Happy Valentines Day Logan."

"Now, I have the whole day planned so go get ready." His disappointment from earlier fading as he thinks about the rest of the day. "How romantic of you." You kiss his cheek and turn to go back to your bedroom. Logan smirks and gently slaps your ass as you walk away.

"Logan!" You scold him but he just grins wider.

"Sorry, couldn't help myself."

Logan packs the picnic basket as you get ready. He made sure to buy all your favorite things and handmade chocolate covered strawberries last night after you went to bed. Those were romantic right? The clock ticks by faster than he realized and it dawns on him that the flowers he ordered have yet to arrive. His phone buzzes and he growls as he checks it.

Of course.

A text from the florist shop that they can't complete his order despite the fact he ordered these weeks ago. Fuck. Well maybe he can grab something on your way to the park? No he can't buy them right in front of you. Plus what store even has flowers right now. Maybe he can cut a few from the neighbors garden. They won't miss a few roses.

"Logan? Everything okay?" He snaps out it and shoves his phone back in his pocket.

"Just fine sweetheart," His eyes land on you and he lets out a low whistle.

"You trying to kill me or something?" He says with a smirk as he takes in your outfit. Fuck you're perfect.

"This old thing? I just had it laying around." You joke.

You grab onto his belt and pull him into you, his lips capturing you in a hot kiss. His hands slowly slide up your body. You could get lost in this kiss forever.

A loud boom breaks you apart. Your heads whip towards the window and see the sky darken before your very eyes.

"You've got to be fucking kidding me." Logan growls as he lets go of you. Stalking his way to the window to see rain pouring down outside. There goes the picnic plans. He slams the window shut. Frustration taking over his mind.

"It's supposed to rain all day," You say as you check your phone. You notice Logan's mood turn sour and you start to get worried.

"Of course it is." He scoffs. Logan searches for something in his brain to fix this day. Maybe he can just drive out of the city and you can still go on a picnic or watch the sunset.

"Logan are you okay?" You ask softly. He grunts as his phone buzzes once again in his pocket. Wade's picture flashes up on the screen and it takes everything in Logan to actually answer.

"What."

"Hey so...I might have borrowed your car last night for reasons that are not important to you and well lets just say its going to be out of commission for a couple days k sorry gonna hang up before you process this bye love you!" Wade speaks fast and hangs up faster.

No breakfast, no flowers, no car, no park, no sunset. Just fucking great. He can't even do one fucking nice thing for you. Logan crushes his phone in his hands without even thinking. He's done, he just. He doesn't get it. Why can't he just do one nice thing for you?

"Logan!" You hurry over and try to comfort him but he just holds his hand up.

"What's wrong?" He just sighs, stands up and shoves his hands in his pockets.

"There are no plans anymore. I'm sorry." He says lowly. Disappointment seeping into his tone.

"I had everything planned, I had the perfect day. A day where I can just... you know what? Forget it. I don't even know why you bother with me anymore." He mumbles.

He ignores the calls of his name as he walks out the door and leaves. The rain soaks him right to his metal bones. He just sits on the grass. Letting the rain hit him. Dramatic? Maybe but he's defeated. Just. Purely defeated.

His inner thoughts swarm with attacks, the happiness he had hoped to feel was draining. Being replaced with self doubt that can only scream that he's not worthy of you, not worth the love.

"Logan you get your ass back inside right now!" Your voice cuts through the harsh patter of the rain. He turns to see you marching forward, your pretty clothes all ruined now as you walk over to him.

"Go back inside, you're going to get sick." Logan says with concern but you don't care.

"No, not until you talk to me." You say stubbornly. He huffs and takes off the jacket he had put on earlier to hold it above your head. Rain pelts his back but its stopped hitting you.

"It's nothing."

"Stop that! Stop shutting me out Logan. Look I know this is hard, that sometimes you get wrapped up in your own head. But that's why I'm here." You grab his face, making sure he can't get away from you. You don't know how many times you need to drive this into his thick skull but you will if that's what it takes.

"A bother? Do you really think I'm just putting up with you? I fucking love you, you idiot! I don't care about if the date is perfect or if you get me flowers or chocolate. I care about you."

"Everything got fucked up today sweetheart. Literally everything I wanted was ruined. Don't you think that's a sign? That the universe is trying to fucking tell me something?" You scoff and shake your head.

"Tell you what? Huh? What could the universe possibly tell you that I can't. I'm telling you right now. That you are the love of me life. I love our lazy mornings, the soft kisses, the movie nights, the way you make my day brighter and my stomach flutter. Fuck the universe. Logan, I'm right here." Logan does so much for you that he doesn't even notice.

He loves you and his love is more than enough. It bleeds into everything he does. The way he looks at you, how he talks to you, the pure love and adoration in his eyes.

"I wanted today to be perfect for you. I wanted to show you that I'm worthy of every part of you." He confesses.

You pull him in for a kiss. Not caring if he drops the jacket that was once covering you. You let the rain fall as your lips move passionately with each other. Logan groans as he wraps his arms around you. Your hands reach up to grab at his wet hair, pushing it back and running your fingers through it. His hands grip your waist tightly, pulling you impossibly close to him. Reluctantly you pull apart, needing to catch your breath. He's got this dopey smile, his eyes softening as you rest your hands on his chest.

"You idiot, you're already are worth that and more." You whisper. Thunder rolls through the sky and you tug on Logan's hand.

"Come on, let's go back inside. I don't need to find out if your metal skeleton attracts lightning." He chuckles but follows you back inside. After drying off and changing back into your pajamas he finds you trying to push the couch back.

"What are you doing?" He asks as he walks over and picks it up with ease.

"Show off." You mumble. You grab a blanket it and lay it on the floor.

"You wanted a picnic, so let's have one." Placing a couple pillows on the floor, you and Logan sit in your living room with the food he had packed earlier.

The sound of the rain hitting the windows was oddly peaceful. Your heart warmed at the sight of everything Logan had packed. He really put thought and care into this. You were practically in his lap at this point. His hands wanting to be on you at all times.

"Here," You lift a chocolate strawberry to his mouth and he takes a bite.

"Sweet, not as sweet as you though." He says with a cheeky smirk.

"Cheesy," You roll your eyes playfully. He chuckles, his thumb rubbing the side of your mouth where some chocolate was. His face softens, eyes brimming with an emotion you can't read as he stares at you.

"Hey, I love you."

You're the best thing that's ever happened to me. You're everything. I want to wake up next to you for the rest of my life. Logan feels it all, you're it for him. But he doesn't know how to say it quite yet, so he settles for I love you and hopes you understand how much he truly means it.

"I love you too Logan, more than anything." He presses a kiss to your cheek and peppers them down to your jaw. His teeth grazing your pulse point.

"There's still one more thing I had planned that we can do right here." Logan purrs. You giggle as he flips the two of you so that you're on your back, your head on a pillow.

"Oh really?" You tease as you slip your hands up his shirt.

"Happy Valentines day Logan." You hum as he nibbles on your neck.

It's not the day he had expected to have, but it's turned into one he'll never forget. Maybe this holiday isn't so bad. He smirks as he sits back on his knees, still in slight disbelief that you're his. You know what? The universe can suck it. Because he's happy and for once he won't let anything get in his way.

"Happy Valentines day sweetheart."

Here's to many, many more.

[pinksugarscrub]

My Punny Valentine

Jason Todd x fem! Reader

There's nothing better than movie nights with Jason but with Valentine's approaching, tonight is...a special occasion.

( @hyperfix-wip again, my beautiful apricot tart beta reader❣️)

Word count: 1,027

Warnings: cursing, sugar rush

~

The kitchen is…not necessarily in ruins. All of the ingredients have been responsibly returned to the pantry and fridge. It’s the bowls and whisks in the sink that are effectively killing the vibe of cute and demure.

Wiping away the sugar and flour from the counter you’re preparing a space for yourself and most importantly Jason.

Your lovable boyfriend is across the room. Flipping to the first movie on your list, Pride and Prejudice. Freshly showered and smelling like the expensive products you had gifted him on your anniversary.

When he returns to your side he’s quick to wrap his arms around your waist and bury his nose into the crook of your neck. He smells even more amazing up close; it almost makes your head spin.

“Almost ready babe? Looks delicious.”

You snort, refraining from making a less than innocent comment as you nod. “The cakes are chilling in the fridge. Will you get them for me?”

Jason chuckles, planting a kiss on your temple. “Course princess.”

You swoon because no matter how many times Jason has talked to you so sweetly, he still manages to make you giddy. Shameless or not, he could be the judge of that, you follow him with your eyes. Admiring the loose shirt and wonder woman themed sweats he had chosen to wear.

Seeing him so relaxed was what you lived for. There’s only so much you understand about his work as Red Hood along with his family (who are lovely by the way). Just the two of you for the second night in a row is making you crave this domestic life every night.

“You gonna keep undressing me with those pretty eyes or are we gonna decorate these?”

Jason laughs as your face contorts into embarrassment. Both of his hands are occupied with small heart shaped cakes.

Occupying yourself with grabbing Jason an apron so you don’t have to answer, you promptly walk past him. He only laughs harder as he sets the cakes down.

Your apron is already caked with flour, batter, and icing. So you’re careful not to smear any on him when he ducks down so you can adjust his apron.

Your fingers trace down his neck to reach the strings at his waist when he stops you. He takes your momentary confusion as the opportunity to kiss your lips. Tasting the sugar you most definitely ate while you were making the frosting.

“What was that for?” You ask in a daze. Certainly not complaining but definitely not expecting to feel weak at the knees.

“Do I need a reason?”

“No,” you slowly grin, “I guess not.”

Jason returns your grin while tying his apron expertly.

A wheeze leaves your lips once you’ve noticed the lettering on his chest. You hadn’t realized you had grabbed that one.

“What? Oh no,” he groans. Rolling his eyes at the ridiculous gift Dick had gotten him.

“No no!” You exclaim while putting your hands on his chest when he prepares to rip it off. Struggling to breathe through your words. “It’s fine Jace. Really.”

“Fine my ass.”

“Yes it is.”

“...not now babe.”

Raising your hands in mock defeat you walk over to the counter. Wiping away the tears that had collected in the corner of your eye. “Alright, alright. Cake first.”

Jason sighs but keeps the gag worthy, burn-it-in-a-sewer thing on. “And Austen.”

“You mean Keira Knightley,” you correct.

“She is pretty attractive.”

“Right!? I don’t know about Mr. Darcy though…couldn’t they have picked I don’t know-”

“So you know Elizabeth’s actress but not Darcy’s?” Jason raises a brow. Bumping your hip with his as he slides comfortably beside you.

“It’s Keira Knightly!” You protest. Reaching for a piping bag of red icing to hand to him.

“Name one other movie she’s been in.”

You open your mouth but your mind has drawn a blank. After a moment of silence you finally speak up. “I don’t like this game anymore.”

“It wasn’t a game to begin with sweetheart.”

Sticking your tongue out childishly you reach for your own bag of icing. “Ok ok, ready?”

Jason hums as he smiles. “Teach away.”

Sure, Jason is proficient in the kitchen.

If he really wanted to, he could figure out the intricacies of cake decorating. But when you brought the idea of having a Jane Austen themed movie night, especially so close to Valentine’s day, he couldn’t say no. When did he ever say no to spending time with you when he was finally off patrol?

Jason knows how hard it is. While he’s gaining bruises you’re here, in your apartment, worried. He’s also quite sure that despite the brave face you put on, you've missed him. Especially in these last few months.

Rejoining his family has created caseload after caseload and awkward meetings with Bruce (Which you graciously listen to him rant about when he comes home to you).

Oh you were perfect.

Put up with his shit and took care of him when he couldn’t do it himself. He never was one to think he’d take on a partner. Dating “coworkers” was too hectic and his life wasn’t anywhere near normal but you made it easy. You added to his life.

As you started explaining the different borders you could create with a variety of star tips he leans in closer. Letting you take his hand and slowly squeeze the piping bag together to show him the consistency.

There were times where he purposefully kissed along your shoulder when you were explaining. It was his absolute favorite thing to do. Watch you squirm and try to focus.

The movie played quietly in the background and rain soon accompanied it. That was another thing.

Rain didn’t make him feel gloomy anymore. Instead his memories were filled with you. Curled up with a book. In his lap as you switched between reading for Elizabeth and Mr. Darcy while the rain came down.

By the time you’re both finished there are several puns iced along your cake and frosting on both of your noses.

Overall the night was perfect and yes, Jason accepted your request of being your punny valentine.

-

Taglist: @insideoutjulie

[smystermy]

𝐤𝐚𝐥𝐨𝐧

tags: geto suguru x you; canon-compliant; set some time after his defection; tooth-rotting fluff; you and he are somewhere between not being a couple and being one; this is soft, sweet, and full of tenderness—just as i imagine geto’s true nature to be; inspired by this post by @/femmeofhearts.

warnings: none, just this: this was written in under twenty minutes—so sorry for any rough edges.

word count: 830.

oneshot, loosely related to 'peel your heart like a pomegranate'.

The night air is crisp, carrying the scent of rain-soaked pavement, fresh and cool against your skin. The streets are nearly empty at this hour, the city winding down, settling into a quiet hum. Neon lights flicker in the distance, reflecting off puddles, their glow softened by the lingering mist in the air. Everything feels slowed, hushed—the kind of peaceful that only comes when the world is half-asleep.

And beside you, warm and steady, is Geto.

You walk side by side, your steps in sync, neither of you in any real hurry to return. The mission had been simple—retrieve a cursed artifact, secure it, go home. No fights, no surprises, nothing to drain your energy. And yet, exhaustion lingers in your limbs, the kind that comes not from battle but from the weight of jujutsu work itself, from the quiet toll it takes over time, no matter how easy a night might be.

But then—him.

Without thinking, without hesitation, Geto’s hand finds your waist.

It’s not something that startles you—not anymore. His touch is light, familiar, his palm warm even through the fabric of your coat. It isn’t something he does to restrain you, to hold you back. It’s just there, gentle, anchoring. A silent reminder that he’s beside you, that he’s watching over you, that you’re not alone.

He doesn’t say anything about it. He never does.

It’s just him.

And you—you don’t mind at all.

The silence between you is comfortable, stretched out like a soft thread weaving between your steps. The night moves around you—faint headlights in the distance, the sound of damp gravel shifting beneath your shoes—but you barely register any of it. All you feel is him, his warmth next to you, the way his presence settles something deep inside your chest.

Then, just as naturally as before, he moves again.

His fingers slip away from your waist only to find your wrist, curling around it with a touch so light, so easy, it barely even registers until he’s already pulling—just enough to guide you, just enough to shift you to the other side of him. And the moment you’re in place, a car rushes past, too fast for these empty streets, the wind from it tugging at your clothes.

Oh.

You hadn’t even heard it. Hadn’t noticed the headlights, hadn’t realized it was coming.

But he had.

Because of course he did. Because he always does.

His hand lingers for just a moment longer, his fingers brushing against your wrist as if making sure you’re exactly where you should be. And then he lets go, slipping away, as if he hadn’t done anything at all.

But you feel it.

That quiet kind of care, the effortless way he keeps you close, keeps you safe. The way he doesn’t hesitate, doesn’t think twice.

You glance up at him, warmth blooming in your chest, something sweet curling deep in your ribs. He doesn’t look at you immediately, his expression unreadable in the soft glow of the streetlights, but there’s something in the way he carries himself—something quiet and certain, something so deeply him—that makes your heart ache in the softest way.

You can’t help but smile.

“You always do that,” you murmur, voice barely above a whisper.

This time, his gaze flickers to you, dark eyes warm with something unreadable. There’s the faintest trace of amusement at the corner of his lips, something small, something fond.

“Do what?” he asks, feigning innocence.

You huff a soft laugh, shaking your head as you reach for his hand, slipping your fingers between his without hesitation. And the moment you do, his fingers tighten around yours, instinctive, like he’s been waiting for it.

“This,” you say simply, squeezing his hand, your thumb brushing over his. “Making me switch sides. Watching out for me even when you don’t have to.”

He hums, thoughtful, but his grip doesn’t loosen. Instead, his thumb mirrors yours, gliding absently over your knuckles in a slow, steady motion. “I don’t mind,” he says, like it’s the easiest thing in the world. Like it’s not even worth questioning.

And maybe to him, it isn’t.

Maybe it’s never been something he’s needed to think about, never been something he’s decided to do. Maybe it’s just something that is. Something woven into the way he exists beside you, into the way he always pulls you a little closer when the streets are too empty, when the night feels too quiet, when your shoulders are just a little too tense.

Warmth spreads through your chest, soft and slow, settling into something deep and golden.

You lean into him just slightly, tilting your head in his direction, letting yourself sink into the quiet space between you. “Thank you,” you whisper.

He doesn’t ask why. Doesn’t tease, doesn’t brush it off. He just stays. Just walks beside you, your hand in his, his touch firm, steady, safe.

His thumb strokes over your skin again, slow and deliberate. A quiet promise.

Always.

general masterlist || geto suguru masterlist

[bloodywankers]

tw; yandere, implied dub-con, unwanted pregnancy, forced relationship, ooc, unedited

yandere reo | very ooc | 1.5k words | bluelock masterlist

“You’ll never have to work a day.” He said, eyes pouring straight into your own and a self assured tone just about anyone would falter to. If he was a stranger you might have hesitated to believe his words, assumed him to be a scammer of some sort but you knew him well enough to know his offer could very well be possible. Especially when his family amassed enough wealth to make even the concept of money virtually worthless.

As you looked around trying to calm your nerves you noticed how much more shabby your clothes looked, compared to his suit that fit well enough to have been sewn straight onto his body. Your skin was much more rough looking compared to his and your eyes adorned in dark circles as a result of sleepless nights.

“All you have to do is say yes.” He continued, a small smile on his face as he slid an envelope towards you. You had done everything in your power to avoid him, you weren’t friends or even acquaintances of any sort anymore. If anything you were waiting for him to break out laughing at the slightest sign of your acceptance, revealing this all to be a sick joke or the result of a lost bet. But for him, this was the day he had counted every second to reach.

/

While Reo Mikage focused on enjoying himself throughout his university years, with employment practically secured at his family's company the moment he graduates, you were famous for the opposite. [name] the straight A student who wouldn’t miss a lecture even if disaster struck, the one that barely spoke and rarely if ever attended any social events.

At first, it was curiosity, you were brought up in a conversation and Reo couldn’t help but want to know more. Then it became a habit, to locate you in the lecture hall unconsciously, to anticipate your voice when the professor took attendance or to ask in advance if you were going to attend any extracurricular. He couldn’t help but notice your little habits and become further enamored each passing day.

It was still an innocent love but it was all tainted in filth that one night, a club activity that got extended into a group dinner with alcohol flowing as in any gathering of students, Reo felt tipsy but it was nothing compared to you who was flushed red even though you refused most drinks. Maybe it was the drunk courage that led him to corner you outside where nobody could see. His lips landed on yours and before he could process what he was doing, he felt a rush surge through him as he was sure now, sure that the emotions rushing through him were much more than a passing fascination.

Mikage Reo was the type of man that just passed life by, he was just an empty shell with nothing inside. Things like money or sex didn’t mean much to him but right now a mere kiss had him salivating for more like an animal in heat. That night he did something he knew he shouldn’t have and dragged you to a hotel room. He knew you would barely remember any of it and like a coward he took advantage of it. It would be a rough start but he could handle it, he would get you to accept him once morning came. But as the premature rays of sun peeked through the curtains, he felt the empty space beside him where he was sure you laid.

/

“Why don’t you look at what’s inside that envelope first, I’m sure that’ll answer all your questions.” He said, gesturing towards the inconspicuous brown envelope, the sly smile on his face growing ever-wider.

Reo found himself crawling back to you like a crippling addict even after that night. Still searching for you in every room he entered and uninterested in anything unless it pertained to you. If only you hadn’t disappeared soon after that night, leading to his obsession growing exponentially beyond anything that could be controlled.

“This…” the tone in your voice had changed, it was no longer hesitation stemming in confusion but rather a mix of fear and disgust. And yet, he wanted more. Reo could see the revulsion in your gaze as you looked up towards him with your brows knitted and lips formed in a thin frown. All the effort he went through to track you down felt worth it. “I hope you’ll seriously consider my offer, if not for your own sake then for our child’s.” The paternity test in your hands wrinkled as you shook uncontrollably.

/

Your mind had gone blank when you woke up with a splitting headache and a discomfort between your legs, almost jumping in surprise to find the dreaded man lying next to you still fast asleep. You knew well that nothing good would come from someone like you associating with him so you left before he could wake up, ran back home and locked yourself in there until your friends came knocking a few days later. You couldn’t bring yourself to tell them so you pretended it never happened and buried yourself in work instead.

When he approached you afterwards with a confession full of confidence, as if you accepting would be the most natural thing on Earth you could do nothing but stare at him with disgust. Screaming profanities one after another. You hated his kind, the careless rich kids that thought they could get anything they desired. “I’m not an object you can obtain by throwing money at me!” Those were your last parting words to him, the ones that rang in his head even today. His wide eyed expression brought at least some satisfaction to you that day. You couldn’t report him for your own sake so even this small victory was welcomed.

However, as if the universe were laughing at your misfortune, you were presented with the positive pregnancy test in your hands weeks later. Maybe the test was faulty—that’s what you comforted yourself with as you sat in the doctor's office. But not only were you pregnant, you would have no choice but to carry the pregnancy to term as it was far too late to get an abortion. That’s when the reality of your situation truly sunk in and you broke down for the first time. With nobody to rely on and unable to continue your studies due to your deteriorating health, you ran away from it all. You told yourself it would be temporary, just until the baby was born and then you would return to your studies but you couldn’t give your baby daughter away to someone else. Even when she was the spitting image of her father your heart broke thinking of what she would have to go through in an orphanage so you kept her, slowly finding new happiness in your daughter's smile.

Reo could barely compose himself once you rejected him. Following a monotonous routine as his sanity and reason hung by a thread. All he could think about was how he would make you pay until you begged to be his. But his parents put a stop to it, sending him abroad where they hoped he would change but his every thought was still consumed by only you. Finding out you had a child upon his return was enough to make him rebound into his obsession even worse than before, especially when she resembled him so much.

/

“The paternity test was just a formality, you can tell with just one look that she’s my daughter. Anyways just pack any essentials and get ready, we’re leaving this dump.” It was almost as if he was talking to himself with how he didn’t even bother to get a reply from you.

“I’m not leaving and neither is my daughter.” You had grown protective over your baby, a bastard like him didn’t deserve her.

“Let’s not make this any worse than it has to be, [name]. We both know you can’t afford to take care of a child on your own. What will you do when she grows up and asks why she doesn’t have a father, hmm? What about when she asks why she can’t have the things other kids have? Or when she wants to do extracurricular like kids her age, or when she wants to travel or go out with friends. Or what about when she—.”

“I get it, you can stop now!” You interrupted as tears streamed down your face, you had once again regressed into an inconsolable mess and in front of the man you despised the most to boot. You knew well you couldn’t give her the life she deserved.

/

Your daughter liked her father, almost as if she had known him from birth. It stung a little when her first words were ‘papa’ and when she would run to him before even looking at you but you could make peace with that, she’s just a child after all. What you couldn’t stand was your now husband, Reo. He had only gotten worse as now he seemed to think he had free reign to do as he pleased with you. He had made such a big show of only doing this for ‘his’ daughter but, to your detriment, he seemed much more interested in making up for lost time with you.

[jiminomenon]

what if yn would purposely let her touches linger longer on jimin? How would jimin react

from my series: the devil wears prada

jimin liked to think she was immune to y/n by now.

she had spent months dealing with the assistant’s sharp tongue, her unbothered attitude, and the way she somehow managed to stay professional while practically living in jimin’s penthouse. she had convinced herself that y/n couldn’t get under her skin anymore.

but then y/n started lingering.

it began subtly. a brush of fingers when handing over her morning coffee. a steadying hand on her lower back as they walked through crowds. a casual touch on her wrist while fixing her bracelet.

small things. Innocent things.

or so jimin thought—until it became impossible to ignore.

one afternoon, as she sat in the makeup chair for a shoot, y/n stood beside her, flipping through the schedule. jimin was barely listening, more focused on her reflection in the mirror. but then—y/n reached out, absentmindedly adjusting the collar of her blouse.

her fingertips skimmed against jimin’s neck. lingered.

jimin froze.

y/n didn’t even seem to notice, too busy murmuring about set times and outfit changes. her fingers trailed along the fabric, slow and deliberate, before finally pulling away.

the damage was already done.

jimin swallowed, shifting in her seat. “you don’t have to touch me so much, you know.”

y/n raised a brow, flipping another page. “i barely touched you.”

“exactly,” jimin muttered under her breath, crossing her legs. not enough to be obvious, just enough to drive me insane.

but it didn’t stop.

in the car, y/n reached over to fix jimin’s sleeve, her nails grazing over her wrist. at dinner, her knee pressed against jimin’s under the table. at home, when jimin handed her something, y/n’s fingers curled around hers for just a second too long before letting go.

it was calculated. intentional.

jimin knew flirting. she lived in the world of power plays and push-pull games. but this? this was different.

because y/n wasn’t looking for a reaction. she never smirked or teased. she never acknowledged it at all.

she just… lingered.

and jimin was losing her mind.

finally, one night, she snapped.

they were in her penthouse, sitting on the couch, scrolling through their phones. princess was curled up in y/n’s lap, purring as y/n absentmindedly stroked her fur. jimin wasn’t paying attention to the screen in her hand—her mind was too preoccupied.

then y/n shifted, reaching for the remote, and her hand brushed against jimin’s thigh.

lingered.

jimin’s patience cracked.

she grabbed y/n’s wrist, halting her movements. “okay,” she said, voice dangerously low. “what are you doing?”

y/n blinked, tilting her head. “huh?”

“this.” jimin squeezed lightly, her thumb tracing slow circles over y/n’s skin. lingering. “you’ve been touching me more than usual.”

y/n’s lips twitched, but she didn’t pull away. “do you want me to stop?”

jimin opened her mouth—paused.

she should say yes. she should.

but instead, she found herself holding y/n’s gaze, heart hammering against her ribs.

y/n smirked, slow and knowing. she leaned in, just enough for jimin to catch the warmth in her eyes.

“thought so.”

and just like that, she pulled away, going back to petting princess like nothing had happened.

jimin, however, sat frozen, realization hitting her like a truck.

she’s going to kill me.

[mintyys-blog]

CLINGY— peter parker

Peter Parker loved a lot of things: science, swinging through the city, his Aunt May’s wheatcakes—but above all, he loved you.

You were his first real relationship, and he was your first boyfriend. So naturally, you clung to him like a lifeline. You wanted to be around him all the time, whether it was curling up beside him while he studied, calling him just to hear his voice, or texting him even if you had nothing to say. And Peter? He never minded.

But one night, everything changed.

Peter was at Ned’s place, playing video games with the guys. The sounds of button mashing and occasional swearing filled the room, but then, the conversation drifted elsewhere.

“Dude, your girlfriend is so clingy,” one of his friends joked. “How do you even deal with that?”

Peter just laughed, his focus still on the game. “Honestly? I love it. I think it’s adorable.”

But you didn’t hear that part.

You had stopped by to surprise him, but as you stood outside the door, the word clingy rang in your ears. You felt your stomach drop. Annoying. Too much. That’s what they meant, right? Even if Peter didn’t outright agree, he still laughed. Did that mean he thought so too?

The insecurity hit you like a truck.

So, you pulled away. Completely.

No more texting him good morning and goodnight. No more calling just to hear his voice before you fell asleep. No more cuddling into his side when you were together. You needed to prove—to yourself, to Peter, to his friends—that you weren’t too much.

At first, Peter thought it was just a bad day. Then a bad week. But when two weeks passed with no soft hugs, no absentminded hand-holding, no rambling voicemails about how your day went, he realized something was definitely wrong.

Enough was enough.

Peter cornered you at your locker after school, placing a hand on the door to keep you from escaping. “Okay. What’s going on?”

You blinked up at him, feigning innocence. “What do you mean?”

His eyes softened, searching your face. “You know what I mean.” He sighed, his voice quieter now. “You’ve been… different. Distant. You barely even look at me anymore.”

You swallowed hard, staring at the books in your hands. “I just—I didn’t want to be annoying.”

Peter’s brows furrowed. “Annoying?”

You shifted uncomfortably. “I heard what your friends said. About me being clingy.”

His heart clenched.

“You—” he exhaled, realization washing over him. “You heard that?”

You nodded, still refusing to meet his eyes. “I didn’t want you to think I was too much. So I figured I should… back off.”

Peter’s chest ached. He reached for your hands, his fingers curling around yours. “Baby.” He gave a gentle squeeze, finally making you look at him. “I love that you’re clingy.”

You blinked. “What?”

“I love it,” he repeated, eyes warm. “It makes me feel important. Like… I don’t know, like I matter to you.” His lips quirked into a small smile. “Sure, maybe you overdo it sometimes, but that’s just you. And I wouldn’t change that for anything.”

Your breath hitched, emotions bubbling to the surface. “But your friends—”

“Don’t matter,” he cut in gently. “What you and I have? That’s what matters.”

You swallowed, the weight of your insecurities starting to lift. “So… you don’t think I’m annoying?”

Peter grinned. “I think you’re adorable.”

A small, relieved laugh slipped past your lips, and Peter pulled you into his arms, holding you tight.

“I missed this,” he murmured against your hair.

Your fingers clutched at his hoodie, and for the first time in weeks, you let yourself lean into him.

“I missed this too.”

[jayktoralldaylong]

Mouthwashing characters as political metaphors.

Curly - The people pleaser: He's a capable leader but he gives power to an ambitious selfish asshole because "That's my bro." Thinks nothing could possibly go wrong.

Jimmy - The Incompetent Leader: Refuses to take direction or correction and drives the entire team (country) into a hole. Then refuses to take responsibility and keeps passing the blame.

Anya - The victim: Suffering from insecurity, lack of stability, loss of love, sense of self, and will to live under a stifling and domineering leader. The suicidal population that can't take it anymore and just opts out the only way they can. (Often the women who lose their families and suffer assault).

Daisuke - The innocent: This percentage of the population actually truly believes their leader means them well and will blindly obey, believing in a bright future, not knowing they are merely sacrificial pawns in the hands of bad governance. (The children that never get to grow up).

Swansea - The older Generation that's actually aware of their leader's incompetence: But they are in a position where they can do little about it, with limited resources (His axe versus Jimmy's gun). And when they try to fight back to avenge the victim and the innocent, they get gunned down.

[doonalli]

The Point of Alice's Death in 3-1 (Mini-Analysis)

Gonna start trying a new thing where unlike my other analyses where instead of making a long post about specific characters i make shorter ones about particular scenes in the chapter.

So while it may not be as long I still hope I'm able to make you appreciate the chapter a little more bit by bit regardless With that said I want to talk about a specific (controversial?) moment, being the Yabusames death in 3-1

I'll be focusing particularly on Alice because I'm an Alice router lmao, but I'd love if any Reko'ers were able to add their own input too!! So a common criticism of the Yabusame's death is that it "comes from nowhere". Not in the sense that Ranmaru killing them came from nowhere (I've explain already why that's just not true in my Ranmaru analysis) but in the sense that it makes no sense why they specifically were targeted rather than anyone else.

At first glace it seems like it has nothing to do with their arcs at all and the easiest answer is to just say "they just so happened to be there" but this is a story and Nankidai could have chosen anyone to be there. Yet it was them specifically, so why is that? Disregarding the fact that it couldn't be anyone else REALLY for plot reasons, (Qtaro already being dead, Keiji being trapped, Gin being needed for the Banquet and Sou because it's likely he'll be necessary for 3-2) because that doesn't feel like a real answer to me, and because I feel like there is more to it than just that. One important note to call attention to is that Alice dies exactly in the same spot as Hinako did. Obviously, this already draws a connection as Alice was the one who doomed Hinako in the first place by leaving early and "betraying" her in the First Trial.

But this also leads into what in my eyes is the most important aspect of this death, which is the fact that Alice never found out that he killed Hinako in this route. Now that may seem like a point against this death, as it kills Alice before this moment in his arc, which should be important, but stay with me for a second. One of the major points of Alice's arc is the way his character asks the question of if your even better of knowing in the first place. This is shown in one of the first major changes in his route where he actually ends up using Safalin's machine where Reko didn't

Gin tells him that it doesn't seem right what he did while Safalin affirms that she still believes her machine is one way to achieve happiness.

In particular she says "If all you have is burdens, that isn't life..."

And it's this question that seems to loom over Alice over his arc for the next chapters.

Later Alice is face to face with Midori, someone who is responsible for ruining his life, right after finding out he didn't really kill him at all, and earlier in a similar situation he acted very aggressive towards Gashu

and you'd expect him to be way more mad because he has more reason to fight with Midori. Yet when he fights...

Alice is awfully calm, something he even notices himself, and it just goes to show the change between the before and after of his choice.

Even Reko, when faced with the same choice, was fully ready to fight.

And this leads Sara to question something important

So why am I even bringing this up? Well, it's because Alice's death brings up the most extreme form of this question. When he dies here, he dies not knowing he killed Hinako, but he DOES know he didn't really kill Midori

At this point Alice is in a state where he is fully oblivious to the murder he committed, thinking that he didn't kill anyone. In a way you could call this Alice's happiest state, dying not as a "real murderer", but as an "innocent person".

But is that really a happy ending? He IS dead after all; sure he isn't a murderer anymore but still. And that's what I think his death wants to ask; Is that happiness a good thing?

Maybe once 3-2 drops we'll be able to actually get an answer to the question in Kanna's route but for now it's interesting that the possibility could even happen in the first place, and I think that will make whatever the answer is end up being, hit all the harder knowing that this was a real possibility.

But another part to death in YTTD is the effect it has on the people alive, and Alice's death does this too.

After the death Sara will think about who Alice was and what he meant as a person (and Reko too, maybe even more for her)

And their death is what finally pushes Sara to swear not to be who Midori says she is.

This scene genuinely means something to everyone in the cast, it shows Sou refusing his emotions, Gin and Sara's relationship and calling attention to his sin, showing us that YTTD won't just write him off as a kid and respects his agency in the situation, and a major moment for all the dummies (which I've talked about in each of their respective analyses).

On a more sentimental level the Yabusame's were also the ones who consistently helped Ranmaru with accepting his humanity and self-confidence, so by having him kill them specifically it shows how Ranmaru ignores those words they said representing how he denies his humanity.

And most importantly it leads us to a very important scene from Q-taro where he talks about how we are all carrying sin.

And who better as a backdrop for this moment then Alice Yabusame. Someone who spent so much of his life burdened by his sin and being unable to forgive himself for it. Reko fits in a way too with her past actions and her regretting not forgiving/believing in Alice when she had the chance. Thematically it just makes sense for them to be there, just to really hit home the message Q-taro presents.

So ultimately, I think it just makes sense for the Yabusames to have been the ones who died there and that it isn't indicative of "bad" or "lazy" writing but instead actually really well done and clever in the way it adds to their arcs while also acting as a good full stop to it too.

Through how it brings together many other characters to add a note into quite literally everyone who is present's arc, and through how it completes Alice's arc in a truly poetic way, I think not only is it not a bad choice to kill them there but actually one of the best examples of YTTD using one of its most unique strengths in its split routes for its character writing.

And I hope I was able to express just why I think that is here.

================================================================================================ AFTERWORD: So yeah, I think there is more to Yabusame's death than it can seem at first and maybe I've helped you see that too or maybe you think there is something more to add or you just think I'm insane and there isn't actually anything to it idk lol

I also understand that some people like the Yabusames and are simply mad that the route they chose ended up killing them for something they felt was out of their control, but at the end of the day this is a story and characters dying is a part of it, you can feel saddened by their death, its expected even, a death SHOULD affect you in that way, but I hope you can see how this death is so much more than that and the way its masterfully woven into the themes of their characters.

It's pretty common to see criticism of this death as "pointless" or "just for shock value" and it saddens me because there is far more to it and to Alice and Reko as characters then that and so I wanted to write this in an effort to show off just how much thought is put into them even in CH3 when it's possible they aren't even there. either way I hope you enjoyed reading this mini analysis and that I got you to think about it even a little bit more!!! See you next time for a bigger analysis more akin to what you'd usually see here.

[pepis-benis]

can the seventeenth time still count as a mistake?

Emma was no stranger to mistakes; her life had been a kaleidoscope of bad fortune, ill timing, and not-so-happy accidents. For the most part, she had learned to accept them, moving past each one without agonizing over choices she could no longer change. Easier said than done, though—especially when a repeat mistake kept clawing its way to the forefront of her mind. No matter how much Emma steeled herself—the mirror talks, the count-downs, even screaming in Granny’s walk-in freezer—the temptation remained. Vivid. Visceral.

Honestly, she wasn’t even sure it counted as a mistake anymore, not after the seventeenth time. She knew it was wrong, knew it could only end badly, knew it was only a matter of time.

But sleeping with Regina Mills must have done some damage to her prefrontal lobe, because every reason she shouldn't keep doing it vanished the moment her phone buzzed.

Emma jumped from her desk, her chair colliding loudly with the filing cabinet as she shrugged on her jacket and snatched up her phone. David and Mulan halted their game of darts to watch her speed-run through filing paperwork. David snorted as Mulan threw a dart, landing just left of the bullseye. Emma ignored them, shoving folders into the cabinet. She only paused when David’s snort turned into a full-on chortle.

“C’mon, let me in on the joke if you’re gonna be that loud about it, Dad,” she groaned, unlocking her phone to see the message she knew was waiting.

15 minutes

Emma’s stomach dropped, a familiar heat curling in her gut as the anticipation of seeing Regina took hold. She hurriedly typed a response as David threw his dart, missing horribly as he laughed at whatever Mulan said.

I’ll be there in 10

“It’s nothing, Emma,” David said, retrieving his dart from the floor. Mulan cracked a grin, crossing her arms as she turned and sized Emma up. Emma didn’t like that. She schooled her face into something neutral—casual, even—as she shoved her phone into her pocket and grabbed her keys. But she wasn’t fast enough.

Mulan’s grin sharpened. “You’ve been getting a lot of those texts lately, Sheriff.”

Emma rolled her eyes. “What texts?”

David threw his dart again, this time actually landing on the board. “The ones that make you jump out of your chair like your ass is on fire.” He turned, crossing his arms as he leaned against his desk. “I gotta say, you’ve never been this eager to chase down a lead before.”

“I have no idea what you two are talking about.” Emma focused on zipping up her jacket, refusing to meet their eyes. “Some of us actually work around here.”

Mulan let out a hum of exaggerated thoughtfulness. “Right. You just happen to get urgent calls at the same time, every time, and leave in a hurry.”

David smirked. “Let me guess. You’ve got a hot date.”

Emma scoffed. “Yeah, sure. Because I have so much time for that.”

“Oh, so it’s not a date,” Mulan said, tilting her head. “Just a regular hookup?”

Emma nearly dropped her keys. “Jesus—what? No. I’m not seeing anyone.”

David looked to Mulan, then back at Emma, expression downright patronizing.

“What?”

He raised his hands in mock innocence. “I didn’t say anything.”

Mulan, however, wasn’t as merciful. She stepped closer, voice dropping into something more amused than accusatory. “Then why do you look guilty?”

Emma forced out a laugh and turned toward the door, her boots thudding against the floor harder than necessary. “Because I know you two are trying to get under my skin, and I have better things to do than stand around and listen to you fail at it.”

David shook his head. “You know, I’d be offended if I didn’t know you were lying.”

Emma ignored him.

Mulan folded her arms. “Just so we’re clear—you’re absolutely not sneaking off to meet someone?”

“Absolutely not,” Emma said, already halfway out the door.

David chuckled. “Tell them we said hi.”

Emma flipped them off without looking back and let the door slam behind her. She made it to her car in record time, but her hands tightened on the wheel before she could put the key in the ignition.

They weren’t wrong. Not really.

She had been sneaking off more. Leaving work early. Pretending she wasn’t checking her phone for a text that always came. That she didn’t feel something thrumming under her skin every time she saw Regina’s name on the screen.

It was reckless. A bad idea from the start.

But the moment she walked through Regina’s door, none of that would matter.

It never did.

[wildskissed]

Any reservations he might have had before, Eve couldn't sense any of it now. It had gone out the window a while ago, but she knew that once the heat of the moment died down, he would go back to being SHY about these kinds of things. She honestly loved that about him, even though it was the polar opposite of her. She liked to be very up front about her relationships, and steal public kisses, leave hickies--Birvor was afraid of being teased. Something she couldn't blame him for, considering what his upbringing had been like, and how he he and Astarion interacted. If more moments like this were to come in spite of all of that though, then she would be able to adapt, and find a way to reassure him that everything was alright.

Eve heard herself groan loudly as his tusks ran along her skin, quite aware of how revved up he'd gotten her already. Her throat was sensitive as it was, but the feeling of his smooth tusks gliding along her freckled skin was almost too much stimulation. This was BIRVOR, and he clearly wanted her, which was more than she could ever ask her, so to have him purposefully rocking against her and trying to find her pleasure points, had taken her quite by surprise. Didn't help that there was a very naughty tone to his voice now as he spoke, the innuendo not lost on her. It did, however, prove to arouse her further, a laugh bubbling out of her that came out in a needy groan simultaneously.

"You can't tease me like this," she managed breathlessly, hands finding his face to draw him into a kiss that turned into her groaning into his mouth.

He absolutely COULD of course, and he would, and he'd be smug about it all in one way or another later on. Their banter would carry past this of course--it was ingrained into them--but now there was more on the line. Now he was joking about being in her, and very seriously admitting that he wanted more than the dry humping in the window. He was cradling her body like he was protecting her, and now his voice had that deep quality to it that hers had taken earlier. The tone that let her know that she wasn't the only want that was suffering from WANT now.

"What if you can have what you want?" Eve asked him, fingers burying in his hair to tug gently as he nipped at the pulse of her throat. She wanted to look him in the eyes when she said it, her pupils dilated with lust at this point. He had to know that she was his...didn't he? Birvor could ask her for just about anything at all in this moment and she'd give it to him no questions asked. "I want it too..." she admitted as a hand slid down his chest to the buckle of his belt of his pants, and then slipped a little lower to make her intent quite CLEAR as she gave him a gentle squeeze through his pants. "My clothes off...your clothes off..." she whispered, stealing another kiss from his lips with a hum and then kissing along his jaw up to his ear to continue to whisper, "then you can do whatever in me you want..."

@wildskissed cont.

From what he understood, there had always been a charge of some degree between the two of them- likely chaotic in nature as decreed by patron deities that claimed their creations and instilled in them the coy trickery of the fey in one and the mania of a chaotic evil nature in the other. Both were set on with their own expectations- expected to find fault with the other as the image of their maker would. They were to depopulate each other and find joy in the other's company only when it was with severed head in hand, or blood worn like a second skin. Perhaps it was that overhanging feeling of expectation that he without a god served other than with his unfortunate appearance still felt the weight of? But the goring of said weight with every careful connection that tusk applied to her vine-ripened skin that drew moans over blood was far more cathartic than any possible prayer.

His stomach twisted at the hint of her words lost partially to breathy exhale, but no less understood by the degree of needy, which wasn't too hard a sound to recognize on her behalf considering she was always breaking a sandal strap or twisting an ankle or simply growing tired of walking to make sure he knew when she'd like to be scooped up, and gods forbid he not heed the call should he suffer her sighs and increasingly obvious hinting that, while fun to string along at first- he could only endure so much.

"Sounds like proper work...'doin' ya in'-" He mused midway through tracing the highest curve of her neck before the tips of his tusks would catch her jaw should he not stop at just the right spot and replace the gesture with a tilt of his head and the seal of his lips to better taste her vibrations. "Next- you'll have me doin' somethin' in ya." The hint of banter aside, he set to searing the sentiment in to the source of heat in her neck with a few lingering meetings of gray lips and sage flesh until she produced a loud enough sound for him to latch on and suckle, hands preoccupied with kneading at her thighs to keep the source of her enjoyment flowing.

"And if I do-?"

The half-orc huffed softly, making his point on why her declaration was misguided by pressing his weight down against her...there was no undressing any more with that barricade of his weight in the way. Though he likely enjoyed the idea of her struggling to do so if only because he knew it was an advantage for him to not feel his face burn up when he kept her gaze with a steely resolve. "...maybe I want-..." He started, distracted by the sudden grab she took to the back of his thigh. The motion was all he needed to lean his weight in and and grind against the heat between her legs with a forceful jerk or two, sucking his teeth sharply all the while. "Eve-" He growled back to her question, scooting an arm beneath the lower section of her back to pull her up more into another sharp jerk of his hips. Any clothing still in place didn't dissuade him from seeking the friction of leather and cloth, and skin when his fingers grazed flesh just beneath her skirt.

It took him a moment to register just exactly what she was getting at, his hips surging forward with an unnamed urgency that came accompanied by his arms on either side of her head as he boxed her in to the window's frame. With a groan and a few more quick ruts via his hips, he slid his hands up her pelvis and squeezed as his eyes caught hers below. "...to see ya wearin' less. To feel...ya wearin' nothin'?" He added lowly, voice a husk of its former self as he took to nibbling the throb of the pulse in her neck, his arms positioned protectively on either side of her. "Whatta 'bout you?"

[dreamsicle262]

if the reading comprehension of some people who do make dead plate text posts is so bad (as i've had at least two people tell me in the tags) then maybe i SHOULD start analyzing every little detail in the game.

[ladykailolu]

Do you think that...for the rest of Klavier's life, he's haunted by the image of his brother? The Gavin brothers resemble each other very much in the face, so every time Klavier looks in the mirror, he can see Kristoph looking right back at him (without his glasses)

[cappucosmico]

the most devastating shit on earth is that i had a friend in middle school who was like my ride or die. but her only "social media" was Google Fucking Plus. so naturally i have lost her in the wastelands of that shitstorm. but i cannot find her ever again bc she has like The most common name on god's green earth so one facebook search for people with her name in the bronx yields like a million fucking results. so imagine if she's not even in the bronx anymore. 10 million results

[elegyofthemoon]

squints oh. guilt complex next to saviour complex. i see jots down notes

[featherymainffins]

I thought I would walk some additional 14 km today and thus burn my accidental lunch (caved into peer pressure and went to a restaurant and had a salad instead of eating my perfectly counted can of tuna) and as such I agreed to go have breakfast with some friends tomorrow to celebrate the end of the excursion.

But I did not walk those 14 km because I wasn't able to get water + I just finished 12 hours of lectures + my arches were killing me + it was raining + I wanted to shower + I wanted to study + I was fucking freezing.

Which means I have to punish myself for my lack of discipline and I also have to make up for the food and that means I CANNOT have that breakfast. In fact I cannot have anything. For 2 days. Just to be sure.

So now I'm trying to figure out what lie I can make up. Currently thinking about saying that I just started to feel really nauseous all of a sudden and as such I unfortunately cannot eat breakfast oopsie. It feels really random and not really believable though.