#clearly a result of boredom

[spurbleu]

my darling i think i'm gonna need you to expand on mr investigator gaz because i haven't stopped thinking about him since your post...

based on this- private investigator gaz and the girl he corners. cw. stalking, manipulation

gaz doesn't really meet you, so to speak. not at first. rain on concrete, foot over ankle, shoulder to shoulder with a leather jacket in a crowded sector of London when he smells you.

distinctly vanilla. sunscreen and polish. brightens the rim of winter until he swears, swears, the storm quits.

he searches for you in the resulting sunlight.

follows the shine that clips your heels. hat pulled low. footsteps lower. all from safe distance, watching you fumble for your keys. unmistakably human, despite the glow that seems to follow your silhouette. it dies when you close the door.

the rain starts again.

he hopes you understand. you surely bewitched him, from your perch at the receptionist desk. teasing him with your silk, the gossamer that has since glued him to windows that reflect your simple living.

he pays attention. clearly no one else does, given the confusion that passes over your face at the first set of chocolates. the ones you eat at lunch. your horror of being perceived snuffs gratitude.

he licks at it like a dog. starving, before he sees you gawk at the bouquet- built from the flowers you lingered by on your way to work. or when you read his notes with a bitten lip and wild, trapped eyes. dove helpless as the cage is built around her.

winter starts to build its casket. you break like a dam.

he's sorting through weekly mail, boredom nearly surpassing obligation, before he catches it. looped e. gentle t. crooked p. your handwriting.

reading the letter is just as exhilarating as finding it.

he bloats. surely, the world wasn't this kind, he'd never known it to be. but here you are, request glassy and sweet, scared witless and in need of safety. protection. answers. things he can give you, if you let him.

it's sunny when he introduces himself.

"hello, sweetheart. 'm Kyle. heard someone's been giving you trouble?"

[aventurineswife]

Aventurine with a gamer reader who asks him to do gacha pulls for the new 5 star character (just imagine, you dont even have to go whale with such luck)

The House Always Wins

Summary: Aventurine is asked by you to perform a gacha pull for the coveted new five-star character. Confident in his legendary luck, he accepts the challenge. With a playful grin, he turns the moment into a wager: if he succeeds, you owe him a homemade dinner; if he fails, he’ll owe you a favor. To your amazement, he pulls the rare character on the first try.

Tags: Aventurine x Reader, Fluff, Light Humor, Gamer!Reader, Playful Banter, Lighthearted, Manipulative Charm.

The evening glow from the city outside filtered into Aventurine's sleek, penthouse suite. The dark glass walls reflected the opulence within—roulette motifs on his tailored blazer, the gold trim of his accessories glinting faintly in the low light. Aventurine lounged on the velvet couch, one leg crossed over the other, his eyes lazily following your pacing figure.

You, on the other hand, were anything but composed. Clutching your phone tightly, you let out an exasperated sigh.

"Please, please, Aventurine," you begged, holding out your phone as if it were an offering to a deity. "I’ve been saving up for this banner for months, but I’ve got a streak of bad luck that’s—frankly—embarrassing. I need your touch. Your magic. Your insane luck."

He tilted his head back, a smirk curling on his lips. "Oh, darling, flattery will get you everywhere." His voice dripped with amusement as he gestured lazily for you to sit beside him. "But are you sure you want me to take the reins? What if I squander all your hard-earned currency on nothing but trash?"

"Not possible." You plopped down next to him, clutching your phone like a lifeline. "You could do a ten-pull blindfolded and still get the banner character and their weapon. You’re basically a walking gacha cheat code."

Aventurine chuckled, clearly relishing your faith in his supposed supernatural luck. "Very well, but remember: the house always wins, darling. I make no promises."

With a flourish, he plucked the phone from your hands and studied the screen, his eyes darting over the details of the banner. His finger hovered over the ‘Summon’ button, but instead of pressing it, he turned to you, his enigmatic smile widening.

"Let’s make this interesting," he said, leaning closer, his voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper. "If I manage to pull your precious five-star on the first try, you owe me dinner—cooked by you, naturally. But if I fail…" He paused, his smile turning sharp. "I’ll owe you a favor. Anything you desire."

You hesitated, your heart skipping a beat—not just at the prospect of the pull, but at the idea of Aventurine owing you something. "Deal."

"Wonderful." He tapped the screen with a dramatic flair, as though sealing a pact with fate itself. The summoning animation began, glowing lights swirling on the screen.

The first few results were three-stars. A predictable disappointment. Aventurine clicked through them with mock boredom, his expression unreadable. But when the screen erupted in golden light, signaling a five-star pull, he raised a brow, his smirk deepening.

"And there it is," he drawled, turning the screen toward you. The banner character's splash art filled the display, the rarest gem of the event staring back at you in all their glory.

You blinked, stunned. "You—how? On the first pull?"

"Darling, I did warn you." He handed the phone back with a smug flourish, leaning back on the couch as if the whole affair had been beneath his notice. "Luck follows me like a loyal hound. Or perhaps…" He trailed off, his gaze locking with yours. "Perhaps it’s just your influence."

Your face burned, but you refused to give him the satisfaction of flustering you completely. "You’re insufferable, you know that?"

"Ah, but you love it," Aventurine teased, his tone dripping with self-assured charm. "Now, about that dinner you owe me…"

You groaned, half in exasperation, half in disbelief. "I’m never living this down, am I?"

"Not a chance," he replied, his smile softening just a fraction. "But I’ll make it worth your while. After all, life’s a gamble, and tonight, you’ve made quite the winning bet."

[honeykaes]

inside/out

wriothesley x convict!reader II 2.6k

warning: smut, 18+ content, minors do not interact, afab!reader with no set pronouns, convict!reader,  fingering, squirting, marking, biting, piercings, rough sex, hate sex, office sex, semi-public sex, unprotected sex, creampie, you and wriothesley are exes, angst, degradation, domestic disputes, set in fontaine before the traveler comes, fontaine plot points references, discussions of legal systems and injustice, mention of drugs, discussion of murder, open ending for interpretation, unedited

synopsis: you swore that you would leave the fortress of meropide when your sentence was done. And when you do, your relationship with wriothesley sours as your two break up. Five years later, you're shocked to end up right back in the iron prison where he’s there waiting for you.

The world seemed so distant to you. The whispering throughout sounded as if it were an untuned violin as they lapped up the drama they so desperately craved in their lives. The Oratrice Mécanique D'analyse Cardinale clicked in the irritating orchestra about to come up with its verdict. 

The lawyer next to you fumbled with his papers with a look of shame and defeat in his eyes. Out of everyone in this room, you felt for him. He would surely bounce back with the next chum in your position.

The loud smacking of a cane caused the whispering to dissipate as you finally lifted your head up to witness the Iudeux of Fontaine.His eyes seemed heavy with sorrow. This wasn’t the first time you had witnessed this expression directed at you. Your eyes flickered to your God, Furina yawning as she whispered something to herself in her boredom.

 You can’t help feeling irked at her expression; at all of their expressions.

Why were these people allowed to judge you? 

The only answer you could find was justice was only for the privileged lucky, and you clearly had run out of it.

The contraption glowed, as Neuvillette collected your sentence.

“Under Article D of the Fontainian Code of Law, you are found guilty of fraud. Under Article J of Fontainian Law, you are found guilty of tax evasion…” he rambled on as you bit your lip.

It seemed that the rumors were right, after all. Most people who come out of the Fortress of Meropide find themselves right back in.

”And finally you are guilty of 1st degree murder of your former business partner, Henry Maugham. As a result, you will be serving a life sentence at the Fortress of Meropide,” Neuvillette announced.

You couldn’t help chuckling, covering your mouth from the cruel smile on your face. The whispering sparked once more, heavy eyes judging every movement you made. You finally lifted your hand away, smiling at the judge, but your eyes remained cold on Neuvillette’s somber ones

”Glad to see you never change, Monsieur."

The Melusine officers escorted you down to the Meropide, with only a small sack of clothes you were allowed to bring. From the photos, to the pat downs, it all seemed nostalgic to you. How many familiar faces would you see? You assumed quite a few.

This underwater prison you desperately wanted to escape from in the past, would be your sole future.

Finally finished with orientation, you threw your sack on your assigned bed sitting down, looking down on the steel ground.  With the bed squeaking, your roommates whisper, feeling the heavy air as they make their escape and let you have some space.  

Just as you sigh, thankful to have the room briefly to yourself to process, credit coupons hovered in your view as you looked up to see a tiny girl. Her long ear twitched in anticipation, ruby eyes gleaming at you, but at the same time, held pity in them.

”It’s nice to see you again. I really thought I wouldn’t have the opportunity once you left five years ago,” she chimed, brushing a bit of her baby blue hair.You looked at the tickets trying to give it back to her silently but she puffed her cheeks and shook her head.

”No! Think about it like this; this is for all the birthdays I missed,” she reasoned. You sighed, moving to massage the headache threatening to form.

-”...Sigwienne…why are you here? I’m sorry but-”

”Don’t apologize!” she interrupted, ears slightly drooping. “I, of all people, knew how much you wanted to get out. I-I’m here because the Duke wanted to see you.”

”No.”

”Please! I thought you wouldn’t be mad at him anymore,” she pleaded as eyes blew wide, pleading.Your gaze grew more bitter: 

“So he sent you to soften the blow or some shit,” you grunted. Sigwienne furrowed her eyebrows in disappointment before you clicked your tongue catching your mistake.

”Sorry…language. I know…” you muttered. Your eyes looked up to see a guard at the door, glaring down at you. It seems she was the nice “cop” and if you kept refusing her, he would get involved. You turn back to Sigwienne’s pleading gaze.

”Fine. Lead the way…” you grumbled getting up from your place. Sigwienne smiled, clasping her tiny hand with yours. 

”Off we go then!”

The only solace Sigwienne gave was a timid smile, waving as the door to the Duke’s office closed, leaving you with a man you haven’t seen in five years.

Your former boyfriend. Honestly, the man you naively thought you’d have happily ever after with.

He took a sip of tea before sighing, throwing papers on his desk as he leaned into his chair that creaked from the shifting weight. His hair was the same, black with odd streaks of gray hair he always had. He had a few new piercings on his ears though. 

”In all these years, I didn’t think I’d see your face again,” he murmured.Your jaw tense and eyes narrowed. His voice seemed as irritating as he’s ever been.

“You think I wanted you to see your sorry ass again, Wriothelsey?” you barked back. -He clicked his tongue, rolling his icy eyes.

 “I can see you’re not over our breakup..” he grumbled, drumming his fingers on the desk. You crossed your eyes, looking down with him with all the defiance you could muster up.

”If that’s what you want to call you being a selfish prick, sure,” you replied back.Wriothesley's nostrils flared but he didn’t spout any insults back.

”I thought you said you wanted to change for the better,” he asked, grabbing a file and holding it up. Of course he knew everything. He knew the second you were preparing to dive down to the Meropide.

”I did and I was. As if I wanted to come down here again. You know that out of everyone! But, I forgot something, people are cruel. And now, I’m stuck here for the rest of my life,” you raised your hands out, proclaiming loudly.

”...Just like you wanted.”

”I did not want that and you know it!” he shouted. It seemed his temper had started to reflect out. Tension was thick in the air as you laughed.

”Oh, right. My mistake. No you wanted to stay in this shithole and be the king of it, how could I forget? Your heart only had room for one person—the Meropide— not me!”

He rose from his seat, face beginning to go red in anger.

”Don’t! I’m not playing this game with you! You know how much I loved you. I loved you so much but you knew there’s nothing out there for me.”

Nails dug in your palms hearing his response as your emotions were beginning to get to you. 

 “Well you would have made something with ME out there!” you yelled, tears beginning to weld in your eyes. You turned away, wiping your tears and shuttered. You felt embarrassed being right in the same position as you were when the two of you first broke up and crying in front of him again after years.

”...I wanted us to build a new life together. Our sentences finished at the same time. You could have left with me, but you didn’t,” you whispered, angrily wiping your face. Silence fell the both of you besides your occasional sniffle and his heavy footsteps walking closer to you.

-”...And I wanted us to build a new life together here. But I wasn’t going to stop you from getting out of the Meropide.”

A frustrated grunt ripped from you as you couldn’t hold your irritation anymore. You marched to him, glaring at his form towering over you. 

To your surprise, he leaned down and kissed you. And shocking you both, you kissed him back with just as much fervor. 

”Selfish. Blockheaded. Smug dick--” you stammered out  among the heated kisses, claiming your lips with every second. Nibbling on your bottom lip, his tongue darted in your parted mouth as you threw your arms around his shoulder. His kiss was of the familiar taste of Earl Grey you remembered he was so fond of.

“Moody, Frustrating, Manipulative asshole,” he grunted back. Article after article of clothing, fell on the floor as you fell onto his couch with a plop. Your hands ran across his firm stomach and chest.You gasped feeling his large palm cup against your sex.

”Still wearing the same underwear I smuggled in for our anniversary. I see you’re still a cheapskate or are you just sentimental?” he grunted  in your ear. His finger firmly brushed across your clit, pleasure soon beginning to reverberate throughout  your lower form. You groan, hitting his toned thigh.

”Shut the fuck up!”

Wriothesley slid your panties down until they caught on your ankle as his fingers glided along the bare cunt. He rubbed your clit with his calloused thumb.

”I see you still have rough ass hands,” you chimed. Wriothesley rolled his eyes, before chuckling.

”Yet you can’t get enough of them as always” he shot back. Fingers slowly sank inside of you as you threw your head back. His digits curled and stretched you out, tenderly pumping at a decent pace as you squirmed under his touch.

His hips bucked slightly against your thigh where you could feel how hard his cock was, desperately pressed against his gray slacks.He hitched your legs over his broad shoulders as he nibbled your inner thighs—leaving a wake of discolored marks and soft bite marks.

”Fuck! Fuck!”you whined out, hands shooting out to pull his soft hair. Your legs caved in closer to his cheeks as he pumped his faster.

He leaned in, letting his tongue brush against your clit as it was the last thing to push you over. Back arched, fluid spraying from you as he continually lapped at your overstimulated cunt as the liquid made a mess of his face and the couch. 

As your body fell, breath heavy from your high, his fingers pulled out of you—walls unconsciously tightening, wishing they would stay. Satisfied with your fucked out expression, he smirked wiping his hand with his chin from your fluids. You narrow your eyes at him, watching him swirl his tongue around cleaning his fingers that were coated in your essence.

”Your face, it’s pissing me off,” you grunted. Wriothesley briefly laughed. Your heart fluttered momentarily. You hated how much you missed it.

“Said the person who squirted on my face. Been a long time hasn’t it, hm?” he teased. You glared before his eyes softened to something genuine.

”..Yeah, me too.”

He sat on his couch, shifting his pants down as his cock slapped on his lower stomach

He stroked his length as it pulsated in his grip. Every once and a while, a wavering moan left his lips. It seemed he had a new piercing too.

A Prince Albert piercing, glinting from the light and precum budding at his flushed tip.You shifted your hips, contemplating if you should go to the next step of someone that was your ex, but seeing him shutter, muffling his mouth and hearing your name was the push you needed.

”Fuck I missed you inside of me,” you groaned, kissing him. You hovered over his cock lining yourself up before sinking down. His hands found their way to the globe of your ass, grabbing the mounds tightly before you managed to reach his hilt.

”Like old times…” he whispered  out, hazy lust gazing over his eyes.

”Just like it…” you moaned.

His pace was relentless as you called out his name. His jaw was clenched, watching your slick dripped down your thighs and his cock as he continued to slam you down on it. Your whole body jumped, as his hips moved up to meet him pulling you down his cock.

”I missed you so fucking much. Your smile. Your voice…fuck your scent. I couldn’t sleep properly for months when you left.” he groaned. 

”I-I couldn’t either…fuck! There! Right there!!” you yelled out. HIs cock continued to press against your soft walls, hitting the spot that caused your voice to reach higher and higher, stomach churning as you almost hit your release.

“ ‘Thesley,” you cried out, nails harpooning into his back as you brought him closer to you. Your body shuttered, walls quivering and tightening. He clenched his jaw, having a harder time bouncing you on his cock.

”...I still fucking love you!” Wriothesley grunted, sinking his teeth into your neck. With one final rough thrust— his hips faltered—as thick ropes of cup jet out and inside of you. He slowly thrusted, moving to try to nurse down his high.

You shifted your neck, leaning his chin up before you kissed him once more. 

For a second, just for a second, it was like you never left him. That you two were still together.That you were in your early twenties, dumb and in love.

Wriothesley broke the kiss first as your fantasy was briefly shattered. His eyes were soft but clearly searching for something within yours. 

“...You still never told me why you are back here,” he replied. You groaned, and rolled your eyes pushing his face away as he grunted. You rose from him, his cum and your slick drooling from your hole before you went to grab your panties and put them back on.

Wriothesley merely sighed, lifting his boxers and pants back on. 

”...I was framed,” you admitted, putting your bra on. Just as Wriothesley was about to put his shirt on, he looked up in shock.

”What”

”Out there, I owned a small cute cafe. You know the one I always talked about based on a beloved classic, Les Aventures d’Alice au Pays des Merveilles,” you chuckled to yourself, recalling reading it to Sigwienne with Wriothesley at times. 

“ I didn’t have funds. Who would fund an ex-convict, y’know. But I met Henry, the aristocrat who promised my dreams. I thought things were going well until I discovered he had used the business as a front to sell absinthe.” You looked down, finally buttoning your shirt on and looking at Wriothesley’s somber face.

“He tried to kill me, I killed him first.”

Wriothelsey briefly closed his eyes processing the information before buttoning his own shirt.

“..But you know this country more than anyone else. He had power after death, and I was pinned with the crime by his frustrated associates,” you whispered, adjusting your color to hide the marks you knew Wriothesley left.

“I can help. We can catch them and get you back--” 

“There’s no point.” you sighed, but smiled. You chuckled humorlessly, walking to the door to his office. You clenched the handle, your back turned to hide your expression. 

Your real expression.

”I guess I wasn’t meant to be out there after all."

[lemonlover1110]

𝐂𝐮𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐛𝐚𝐥𝐥

Toji Fushiguro

[Chapter 1] Player Number Forty-Four

Story Masterlist - Next Chapter →

Pairing: Baseball Player!Toji Fushiguro x f!Reader

Chapter Warnings: MDNI, Smut, Tittyfucking, Oral Sex (m. receiving), Vaginal Sex, Creampie

Discord +18 - Twitter - Ko-Fi

Sitting amongst thousands of baseball fanatics makes you realize one thing: You fucking hate this sport. You don’t get the point, you don’t know what’s happening half of the time. Maybe you’re just refusing to get the point because you didn’t want to come here in the first place. You were dragged here by a friend who got some last minute tickets– She claimed she got the best possible seats for a low price, and her date canceled on her. She didn’t want to come alone, and now you’re watching the game from what you assume is a great seat.

Too bad for you, you don’t understand much of what’s happening. You’re yawning in boredom because there’s not one interesting thing catching your attention. Baseball just isn’t the sport for you, you much rather would’ve liked sitting in the stadium for any other sport. Maybe soccer or tennis. 

You’re just watching Shoko sip on her beer, occasionally yelling but overall, her team seems to be doing well; you wouldn’t know if they weren’t doing well. She’s dressed just as you expected. She wears a jersey for the team that she’s supporting, the “Demon Dogs” (You found the name so fucking funny), and jeans.

“Shoko, when does the game end?” You ask, but she isn’t paying attention to you. Her eyes are staring at the pitcher that’s walking to the pitcher’s mound, and you watch her expression change. The back of her hand is slapping your collar bone, her eyes widening. Your eyebrows are furrowing as you look at her, extremely confused. “What the hell is up?”

��They’re bringing in Fushiguro.” Shoko informs you, but you have a big issue… You have no idea who Fushiguro is. You assume it’s the pitcher that spits onto the dirt as he walks to the pitcher’s mound that is outlined with a white circle. You blink slowly, getting her hand off you. You slightly shake your head, raising your eyebrows.

“I have no idea who he is.” You end up chuckling. It’s the man that’s about to pitch, you don’t know why she’s upset. The man that holds the baseball mitt is certainly a sight for sore eyes. At least from this distance. You just know that you nearly cry when his back is turned to you, leaving you to look at the number forty-four that’s on his jersey. 

“He’s their best pitcher. Maybe the best pitcher in the whole league.” Shoko answers. The little hope that the team that she’s rooting for would win, is now completely gone. Her arms are crossed and her lips are now pouty. “Probably were testing the waters with a new pitcher since Fushiguro can’t play forever… But that clearly didn’t work.”

“What was even happening?” You question, and she tries to explain how awful the first pitcher was: throwing bad pitches, which kept resulting in balls– You didn’t quite grasp the concept. You were too scared to ask anyway. You watch as the man turns his body forty-five degrees, raising his left leg before he throws the ball, and your eyes widen because that’s the fastest you’ve seen a ball travel. You hear Shoko huff, probably accepting that her team is going to lose. It happens two more times until the player is finally out, and another one walks up. “I’m no genius but you were right about Fushiguro.”

“I hate him.” Shoko rolls her eyes, causing you to laugh. You certainly don’t feel the same. You throw your arm over her and then lay your head on hers. 

“Why don’t you root for the better team? I think they’re selling their jerseys.” You joke, and she pushes you away. Before your conversation is over, Fushiguro has striked out another player.

“Why don’t you buy a jersey for that other team since you’re clearly rooting for them.” She says, and you’re nearly about to get up to do what she tells you. You feel awkward since you’re wearing a tank top and a push up bra, so you’ve definitely been getting stares. 

“I just might.” You answer. You almost miss the moment where the batter finally hits the fast ball, if you hadn’t paid attention, Shoko wouldn’t have gotten up to catch it and she would’ve gone home with a bump and bruise on her head– Or, the more likely outcome, someone else would’ve caught it. There’s a grin on her face as the batter runs from home, goes through all bases, and returns, without a sweat, back to the home base. 

She shows off the ball and hands it to you. You examine the ball before turning your attention to her. She looks smug before she tilts her head and asks, “Think you might change your mind?”

“Does your team have handsome players like Fushiguro?” You respond before you turn your attention back to the field. She taps your shoulder and then points at the player who just hit the homerun. He doesn’t look that bad, but you’re not too close so you can see him

“Don’t you think he looks good? He does have a girlfriend but–” She begins, and you roll your eyes. You block her out, watching the game at hand. You watch how Fushiguro does the same thing again, and even though you were expecting to see the ball move ridiculously fast, this time it seems like it curves. The batter hits it though, and it makes Shoko grip to her seat with a smile coming to her face. She shuts up about what she was talking about, but before the ball even hits the ground, it’s in Fushiguro’s hand. You almost laugh at how Shoko’s expression changes. She ends up sighing before saying, “Oh yeah, I was saying I wanted to fuck his girlfriend.”

“Who? Fushiguro’s?” You ask, making her click her tongue. She doesn’t bother reiterating, so you’re left clueless. You don’t care all that much either. You keep watching until Shoko’s team is on the pitching side and your Fushiguro’s team is on the batting side. You lose focus when you don’t see the man that you’re rooting for up there and batting. The man that’s pitching is the same man that Shoko was talking to you about earlier. What makes him stand out is his head of white hair. “How long is this game?”

“Why are you in a rush to leave?” Shoko sounds offended as she asks the question. You can’t even believe it because you thought you had made it obvious how you weren’t into the game at all. She doesn’t seem to pick up the cues though.

“I want him to sign the ball.” You keep it brief, and you assume that she immediately knows who it is. The same man that you’ve been talking about the past couple minutes. It amazes you how Shoko can sometimes… Completely miss the point.

“Who? Gojo?” She replies, and you exhale, holding back your laughter. You don’t even have an idea who Gojo is, but you assume it’s the pitcher, the one who hit the homerun. You shake your head.

“Fushiguro.” You answer, and she rolls her eyes.

“He didn’t even hit that ball.” She reminds you, but you so clearly don’t care. Before you can defend yourself she points to the field and informs you, “Speak of the devil, he’s coming up to bat.”

That’s what makes your eyes go to the field again, and then to the big screen that displays the field and allows you to look at the game better. Fushiguro’s brows are furrowed, his lips downturned as his eyes focus on the pitcher. You don’t care about his stance– Or maybe you do when you notice how big and muscular his arms are. Maybe you understand why people become fanatics of this boring sport because if you were to see a man like Fushiguro in every game, you’d devote yourself to the sport. 

Fushiguro gets a strike, and you almost groan disappointedly. You’re not into the game enough to actually express any sort of disappointment though. If he loses, he loses. He won’t stop being hot. But the second time around, Fushiguro hits the ball and almost knocks it out of the field. It makes you turn to Shoko and ask, “Do you know what his type is?”

“Why would I keep up with that loser?” Shoko responds, and sometimes she makes it so painfully clear that she’s into women. You try to keep up with the rest of the inning, but it’s hard when all the attention isn’t on Fushiguro. You attempt to speak with Shoko but she’s focused on the game, probably praying that a miracle will happen for her team. You have a couple comments about Fushiguro but it’s best if you don’t share. They’re too vulgar to share right now. 

You don’t even notice a break begin, until Shoko begins to talk more, focusing her attention on you. “I heard he’s a deadbeat. Some shit like that. He has a twelve year old son and according to the mom–”

“I don’t want a relationship with him, I just want to fuck him.” You cut her off. You really don’t want her to ruin your source of entertainment tonight. Once you know that Fushiguro is a horrible person, you won’t find him as hot while he plays. You feel ashamed for admitting that out loud so you try to correct yourself, even when Shoko knows what you mean. “I mean… I just don’t need to know all that about him.”

“Of course you– Oh my god, you’re on the kiss cam.” Shoko points out, and you look at the big screen to find yourself there, with the guy that sits next to you. He’s awkward, unsure of how to approach the situation. He looks like he wants to kiss you… But you don’t want to kiss him. Maybe it makes you shallow but you’re not kissing a random stranger because he has a great personality. He just isn’t your type. 

“Save me Shoko…” You mutter, and she laughs before her hands cup your face and she pulls your head in. Her lips meet yours, and just as her tongue swipes over your bottom lip, she pulls away with a smile on her face. You end up chuckling, before thanking her.

You keep your eye on the field, watching player number forty-four closely. Fushiguro is the real star in all of this. He apparently seems to be doing well in his field, but you consider him the star simply because he looks so damn good. You keep your eye on him until the game ends. 

Shoko is clearly mad at the fact that her team lost, and as the great friend that you are, you begin to comfort her until you remember your great idea. This is the only opportunity to do it, after all, you doubt that after this you’ll find Fushiguro again. This isn’t their home town, and you’re not putting yourself through the torture of sitting through another baseball game in the upcoming season just to get his signature… or well, to get him to notice you. You can comfort Shoko some other time, either way, she’s a sore loser so nothing you do will bring her spirits up.

You still have the ball in hand, and you get up from your seat and run down– Admittedly pushing some people out of the way, until the railing stops you so you can’t go further. Fushiguro is walking to the dugout, baseball mitt under his armpit, wiping the sweat on his chin with his shirt. He won’t notice you if you just stand there, especially since people are walking behind you. You yell his name as loud as you can, and it causes his eyes to dart your way. You show off the ball that’s in your hand and he walks over to you. 

“Do you have a marker?” He asks, and you feel your face get warm as your brain processes the question. Of course not, you weren’t planning on getting anything signed. You bite down on your lips before you shake your head. He ends up chuckling before he yells, “Kong! Get me a marker!”

“You were really good out there.” You comment, slightly tilting your head, giving him a sweet smile. Fushiguro knows that look in your eyes– Well, he thought he did because he’s pretty sure you’re into chicks. He saw you kiss that girlfriend of yours or whatever… He can still do some harmless flirting. He smirks at you, and he’s so focused on you that he nearly misses the marker that’s being thrown at him. He opens the black marker and takes the ball from your hand.

“Really? Did you enjoy the game, pretty girl?” He licks his lips, his eyes focused on signing the ball that he has in his hand. His gaze shifts though, from the ball to your cleavage. He tries to disguise it, but it’s clear what he’s doing. You hum in response, trying your best to keep an alluring smile on your face. 

“I loved watching you play.” You respond because you really don’t know what else to say. Should you ask him out? Would he reject you? He keeps looking at your cleavage so maybe he’d accept, but that also doesn’t mean anything. He probably gets asked out a lot, so it’s best if he makes the first move so you know if he’s really interested.

“Here you go, sweetheart.” He hands you the ball, and you’re hesitant before you take it. You have to say something before he leaves but you don’t know what; something that’ll really stick in his mind. You take the ball, and you’re biting your tongue, you have an idea but it isn’t prudent. You bat your eyelashes before you ask him,

“Will you sign something else?” He raises his brow until he realizes what you’re talking about. You’re pretty much shaking them right in his face… Will your girlfriend get mad or something? His eyes are on your boobs and he’s tempted. His eyes search for your girlfriend in the sea of people, and when he doesn’t see her, he shrugs.

“You sure you want me to sign your tits? It doesn’t come off easily.” He warns you.

“Do it.” You nod your head, and with that assurance, you feel the marker on your cleavage as he signs his name across your breasts. He doesn’t keep it small, he wants to make it as big as he can. He smiles when he sees the work of art, his name on your chest. You bite down on your lip before saying, “Thank you, Fushiguro.”

“Please, call me Toji.” Toji says, a smug smile on his face as he puts the cap back on the marker. Is he immoral enough to ask a woman that seems to be in a relationship out? Oh, he is. He definitely is. “Will you–”

You know what’s about to leave his lips. He’s going to ask for your number. But he knows that he just wants to fuck and for some reason his conscience is telling him not to ruin a perfect relationship just for an hour or two. Since when did he become a good human being? You’re clearly throwing yourself at him, for fuck’s sake, he just signed your boobs. 

You tilt your head, “Will I what?”

“Will you tell your girlfriend to root for the better team?” He ends up saying, and the word doesn’t fully process in your head. Before you can get a word in, he’s walking back to the dugout and it hits you. Does he mean girlfriend as in your romantic partner or your friend? 

“I’m convinced that he would’ve asked me out if I hadn’t kissed Shoko.” You tell your friends, who aren’t all that interested in what you have to say. Shoko invited you out to a bar along with another mutual friend, and the date that canceled on her. The woman probably feels awkward as you keep babbling on how you kissed Shoko. Admittedly, you’re not attracted to each but it’s still awkward to hear about how your date kissed someone else.

“He’s not all that great anyway. Maybe you could try to hook up with Gojo so I can–” Shoko begins and when her eyes land on her date, she shuts her mouth. She chugs half of her drink, wiping her mouth when the glass hits the table again. “Move on, drink something and–”

“And?” You ask when Shoko stops in the middle of her sentence. She’s glaring at the entrance of the place, and it makes you turn. She’s gripping her bottle, asking what the hell they’re here. You realize that this is your chance.

A couple days after you last saw Toji, he walks inside the bar with three other friends… Or teammates, you’re not sure which word describes their relationship better. You smile at your friends before saying, “Maybe the universe has other plans for me.”

“You’re not going there.” Shoko sounds clearly annoyed. She can’t believe how you’re a traitor. You want to flirt with Fushiguro even though she’s a fan of the opposing team? You’re not much of a friend. “He’s a whore. If you sleep with him, he’ll give you a disease.”

“There’s always treatments.” You’re saying under your breath as you stand up. You smooth out your skirt before walking toward the man who wears a navy blue sweater and jeans. You won’t lie, you like the baseball uniform better but he still manages to look so good in his outfit. You’re not exactly sure how to approach him, so you tap his shoulder, causing him to turn around to find you with a sweet smile on your glossy lips. He smiles back at you.

“Nice to see you here, pretty girl.” Toji’s words make you feel as if you’ve known him for an eternity. It makes your face warm. The people who he came with are also looking at you. “She’s the girl I was telling you guys about.”

“The lesbian?” A short woman with long dark hair speaks up, asking the same question that everyone in the group has. When Toji nods, you chuckle. They end up walking away, the short woman intertwining her fingers with the blond man’s that accompanies them. You recall seeing him, he’s a catcher in Toji’s team. They’re gone before you can correct them.

“I’m not a lesbian.” You tell Toji, and he raises his brows as a smirk comes to his lips. He throws his arm over your shoulder and instead of going to the booth that his friends are at, he heads to an empty booth. You take a seat across from each other, and you ask him, “Care for a drink?”

“As long as you’re buying.” Toji jokes, and you end up laughing. He clears his throat before saying, “I’m going to get a glass of water, do you care for anything?”

“I’m good, thank you.” You respond, and you watch him walk to the bar to get himself a drink. You wonder why he’s sticking with water, but it’s not that hard to decipher that he’s probably the designated driver for the night. The more you think about it, the more special you feel. He came here to spend time with his friends, yet he sat down with you. 

It’s clear he wants a hookup, and he didn’t do anything at the stadium because he thought you were a lesbian; you find it ridiculous though, considering he signed your tits. He sits back down and you smile at him. He takes a sip of the water before he asks the inevitable, “Was that your girlfriend? The woman you kissed?”

“We’re just friends. Friends kiss sometimes.” You answer, and he purses his lips, wondering if that’s true for girls. Certainly not true for him and his friends. While he stays quiet, you add, “Kiss cam landed on me, there was an ugly guy next to me so I asked Shoko to help.”

Toji would judge, but he gets it. He wouldn’t kiss an ugly girl even if she had a great personality– He doesn’t know when he became so shallow, he wasn’t always like this. But that doesn’t matter anyway since the woman that sits across from him is anything but ugly. 

“Nice to know you’re into men. Only reason I didn’t steal you after the game was because I thought that was your girlfriend back there.” He shares, and you end up laughing. You could gather that by the way he reacted when he saw you, but it’s nice to hear him actually say it. “I don’t think I ever got your name.”

You introduce yourself to him. He makes sure to compliment your name, a comment that’s insignificant so you don’t pay much attention to it. You still mutter a thank you. He then asks a question that leaves you confused, “So what do I have to do so you become a mako shark fan?”

“A what?” You almost burst out laughing when you hear that. When did baseball team names become so ridiculous? You’re laughing as you respond, “Is that the name of your team?”

“Yeah…” He awkwardly responds, trying to laugh it off. He scratches the back of his neck, and he swears it’s the first time that he feels embarrassed about the team that brings him so much money each year. “I take it you’re not a fan of the team.”

“Nor the sport. My friend was the one that dragged me.” You share. It makes Toji feel better, less insignificant. You bite down on your bottom lip before you blink a couple times and you ask him, “Maybe you could… Explain the game to me, maybe it’ll get me interested.”

“I know that trick, in the end you won’t care and I’ll waste my words.” He replies, and you find yourself laughing more. You end up nodding, agreeing in response. You just want him to engage in a conversation, and the only subject that crossed your mind was baseball. “Tell me about… Did you grow up here?”

“I’ve lived here for the past ten years so… Yes but no.” You wonder why he’s keeping up the conversation. Shoko acts as if he’s the biggest whore in the world but he’s trying to engage in a conversation with you when it’s clear that you want to go back to his hotel. “How about you… Did you grow up in whatever city–”

“Yeah.” He answers. His eyes glance at his friends for a moment, they don’t seem to be having too much fun, so he’s glad he’s with you. He ends up rolling his eyes before he comments, “I have to drive those idiots home later.”

“Did you offer to be the designated driver or did they give the role to you?” 

“I don’t really drink so… They just brought me along. Kind of rude though, I had other plans.” He responds, yet he smirks when he looks at you. “I’m glad I’m here though… What do you do anyway?”

“Real estate agent, nothing too fun.” You reply. “Just trying to convince people into buying houses and whatnot.”

“Is that your dream job?” He questions, and your eyes widen a bit. Your eyebrows then come together, your lips pursing as you try to think about the question. You don’t really have a dream job, and you’ve never really thought about it. Other than,

“I don’t know. Maybe a housewife.” You end up shrugging. “How about you? Is being a baseball player your dream job?”

“Yeah… I guess. Never really thought about it.” And before you can dwell on the subject, he clears his throat and asks, “Anyway, I assume you know your way around the city. Would you care to be my tour guide tomorrow?”

“You’re lucky I have the day off.” 

“Is that a yes?” Toji asks, and you hum in response. Around this moment he’d suggest going back to the hotel, but he has to stick around for his teammates. Luckily enough, he can see you again tomorrow. God, he just wishes he could ditch them. “So… Let’s say I wanted to buy a house around here.”

“Ew, why would you?” You end up laughing, and he laughs along with you. You reach into your purse to grab a business card. You slide it to him, and he inspects it when it’s in his hands. “That’s my work phone, but if you have a pen I can write my cell number.”

“Don’t you have a pen in your purse?” He responds, and you click your tongue.

“I wouldn’t ask you if I had one, would I?” You tell him, and his cheeks turn slightly pink. Of course you don’t, why would you ask for a pen if you had one. He excuses himself for a moment and stands up from his chair, running to the booth that his teammates are in. The same man that tossed him a marker in the game, is not handing him a pen. For that moment you feel special, although it isn’t much effort to stand up and ask for a pen but some people wouldn’t even try. You can also just put your number in his phone, but the idea doesn’t cross your mind until he’s back with the pen.

“What’s your number?” He asks, more than ready to write it down on the card. 

“I can also put it in your phone…”  You suggest, and he ends up laughing as he pulls out his phone. You’re dumbfounded when you see his old phone– You weren’t sure if they still made phones that flipped, but he’s proved you wrong. “Do they not pay you enough?”

“You won’t believe it. I tried to buy a third house but they weren’t paying me enough.” He shakes his head disappointedly, flipping the phone open, opening the phone app and then handing it to you. You take it and type in your number. “I don’t see the point in getting a new phone. I just need to call a couple people and that’s it.”

“Do you know what a computer is?” You respond as you give him back the phone. He ends up shaking his head, obviously joking. “How old are you anyway? I hope that’s not rude.”

“Twenty– Thirty-something years old. Near my forties.” He answers, not wanting to give specifics to not scare you off; of course, you can just look it up. “I know it’s rude to ask a lady her age but how old are you? It’s only fair for me to ask.”

“Not telling you.” You say, and he cocks his eyebrow. A laugh escapes his lips before he jokes,

“What? Are you a granny that manages to look young?” He jokes, and you nod in response, a smile on your lips. You haven’t talked much but you feel like you’re clicking with him. There’s a foolish smile on your face, a laugh leaving your lips every time he makes a dumb joke. 

“So um… I can’t really give you what you’re looking for tonight.” He brings up after ten minutes of chatter. You slightly tilt your head.

“And what exactly am I looking for?” You question, and you swear there’s a sparkle in his eyes. This isn’t the first time this has happened to him, but he enjoys your presence. He likes the way you put your hand over your chest and you dramatically gasp before you tell him, “Are you suggesting I want to–”

“We both know you want to.” He cuts you off, and he isn’t exactly wrong. The only reason you approached him was to hook up with him– You’ll admit that you enjoy the conversation. “Do you want to join my friends?”

“Well… I’m enjoying this time alone with you, but if you want to join them.” You answer. He glances at them for a moment before looking back at you. He lightly shakes his head,

“Maybe some other time. Tell me more about you.”

Nothing ends up happening that night, but it’s fine because you agreed to meet up the next day. He tells you the hotel that he’s staying at, and you plan on meeting at the coffee shop that’s across the hotel. You aren’t an early riser nor do you like to be extremely early to places, but you find yourself with a coffee and a pastry almost an hour before the time that you agreed to meet up.

You’re scrolling through your phone, and you almost miss the man that walks into the coffee shop, extremely early just like you. Your eyes meet, and a smile comes to your face. If you believed in love at first sight, you’d say that’s what this is. But you aren’t in love with Toji, you just find him handsome– And you feel like you can spend hours talking to him.

“Toji.” You say. He walks over toward you, his hands in his pockets. When you’re in front of him, his eyes go straight to your chest since your dress is showing your cleavage.

“Didn’t really notice that my name isn’t on them.” He awkwardly chuckles, and it embarasses you. If you knew that you’d be here so early in the day to meet up with him, you wouldn’t have asked him to sign your breasts; on the other hand, you wouldn’t be here if it weren’t for your boldness. You try your best to act confident, putting on your best smile.

“You can always sign them again if you want.” It’s meant to be a joke, and he laughs, but he’s about to ask the barista to borrow the marker. You clear your throat before saying, “Anyway, you should get your coffee so we can start.”

“Yeah.” He responds before he walks to the line. You walk back to your seat, and you finish your drink and coffee before he’s ready to go. He only gets a coffee, and he gloats about how, “I got it for free. Barista knew who I was.”

“You’re so lucky. The rich get richer and poor people like me still have to pay for their coffee.” You point out lightheartedly. He chuckles as you stand up. You walk out of the coffee shop together, and you begin to walk to your first stop: the aquarium.

You’re tired since the previous night you stayed up looking up places to take him. You’re not too sure about the downtown area, you’ve only been here a couple of times. You’re determined to give him a good time so maybe when he comes back to the city, he’ll think of you. 

“So where are we going?” Toji asks, following your lead. You decide to stay quiet as you continue walking. He won’t really push it, trusting your judgment. He sips on his coffee before asking, “So… Have you gotten married before?”

“No. I assume you have.” You respond, and he raises his brow. You’re not really paying to his facial expressions, so you completely miss it.

“So um… Are you trying to call me old?” He sounds offended. You bite down on your lip as you hold back a laugh. You end up humming in response– And as you do so you remember Shoko’s words. She called him a deadbeat, something along those lines. And you shouldn’t care, you try to not let it bother you. After today you doubt you’ll ever see him again. “I have been married before. Twice.”

“Don’t want to ruin the mood by talking further about it.” You tell him, not wanting to hear something that’ll possibly scare you away. Not before you have sex with him at the very least. Having sex with a celebrity is on your bucket list and you want to check that off; although you aren’t too sure if he’s considered a celebrity. You’ve never heard of him before, but you don’t keep up with sports and additionally people recognize him. 

“The aquarium.” Toji doesn’t look all that surprised. He still follows, and when you’re about to pay for two tickets, he pulls out his wallet and slams his card on the counter before you can do it. He definitely makes more money than you, he will offer to pay. Especially since he wants to get into your pants. When you’re inside, you smirk,

“Maybe we’ll see a mako shark.” He ends up rolling his eyes before he laughs. His hand goes to the small of your back as you begin to walk around. He isn’t all that interested in the fishes and sea creatures but it seems like you like to look around. You’re interested in the stupid variety of fishes.

Maybe he’s entertained when he stares at the sharks. His lips are pursed together, his hands in his pockets as his eyes follow the sharks. You’re walking around, looking at all the sea life around you until you’re back next to him. You poke his arm and you keep your finger pressed on his skin as you realize just how strong he is. His eyes finally fall on you. He doesn’t know what to say. Toji feels weird… He’s known you for a day or even less, and he thinks he likes you. 

It certainly isn’t love, he knows what love is. But he enjoys spending time with you, and he knows that he’ll like to have you by his side as he grows old. He doesn’t remember the last time he laughed as much as he did last night. He’s just trying to get into your pants. 

Toji has a cold demeanor that a person really has to work through to get him to be nicer. He doesn’t know why he didn’t put that up with you. Maybe it’s because he doesn’t like making pretty girls work for his attention.

“So did you find your team in the water?” You joke, and it’s so fucking dumb that he laughs along. He shakes his head. He throws his arm over your shoulder and begins to walk elsewhere because the sharks have gotten boring. He hears someone call his name, and he turns to find a random kid. He excuses himself, and you watch as he takes a photo with the young fan.

The young fan is grinning and telling Toji just about anything he can think of, and your heart softens just watching Toji pay attention to the young kid. It reminds you of Shoko’s words though, and this question rises in your mind. Toji looks so sweet with the kid. When Toji finally gets to your side you ask the question that bugs your mind,

“Do you have kids?” It catches him off guard. It’s nice to know that you haven’t looked him up though. A weak smile appears on his face before he nods in response.

“I have a twelve-year-old son.” His arm is over your shoulder again, and you’re walking elsewhere. You follow his lead, just staring at his face as you wait for him to elaborate. It doesn’t seem like he will until he clears his throat and adds, “His mom has full custody.”

“Okay.” Your lips form into a thin line as you nod. You know you can’t really ask more, you’ll definitely be crossing a line that you don’t want to cross. You’re walking to a darker area, and he comes to a stop which makes you stop as well. “I hope you’re having fun.”

“I am.” He answers, and you look up at him, meeting his eyes. You have no idea why but you feel as if you’ve known him for an eternity. It’s weird considering you just met, for all you know, he means danger. He tucks a strand of your hair behind your ear, and you feel your face get warm. You stare at each other for a moment until Toji notices the jellyfish behind you, and he points at them. “That looks… Pretty.”

“It is.” You blink slowly as you take in the pretty sight. You look back at each other at the same time. He scratches the back of his neck.

“So does this count as a first date?” He asks, and you giggle.

“Yeah, I think so.” You respond. “As long as I get into your pants.”

“I don’t fuck on the first date.” He says, and he covers his mouth, his eyes widening when he notices a child walking by. He looks at the parents, “I did not mean to say that.”

“You need to watch what you say. There’s children around.” You tell him, and he scoffs.

“Fuck you.” And you pout your lips before dramatically turning. 

“I guess since you don’t do the hanky panky after the first date, this date is over.” You do so more to see his reaction. You’re actually enjoying your date with him so you don’t care if you have sex or not. Your arms are crossed and your head slowly turns to see his reaction. You watch as Toji’s hands are on his knees, and he’s wiping away a tear. He silently laughs, and just watching him makes you chuckle as well. 

When he calms down, he cups your face. “The hanky panky? Really?”

“Whatever you want to call it. You know what I mean.” You try your best to keep a serious face. It’s hard to. Especially when his words sound so funny even though they aren’t supposed to be. “Anyway, it was nice meeting you, Toji. See you on the second date.”

“You know I was joking.” He tells you, his face inching closer to yours. He isn’t going to throw in the detail that he’s leaving tomorrow and he probably won’t see you again. You’re leaning in for a kiss, and he comes to a complete stop. He’s never seeing you again after this– Maybe in a year or so but so much can happen in a year. When you realize that he’s stopped, you ask,

“Why did you–” You begin and before you finish your sentence, his lips land on yours. It’s a short but sweet kiss; you swear you hear fireworks when you feel his soft lips on yours, and you dismiss it because it’s over as fast as the kiss is. 

“Is the date really over?” He asks as you gather your thoughts. 

“No. It’s far from over.”

You get some lunch after and while the food was awful, you had a great time with him. You kept talking for hours until you realized the sun was setting, and that’s when you realized that you kept talking for hours. Toji offered to go back to his hotel to watch a movie since neither of you knew what else to do. You agreed, knowing that you aren’t going to watch a movie.

“So what movie do you want to–” Toji begins as you step into his hotel room, yet before he gets to finish the sentence, his hands are lifting up your dress. He’s been thinking about this all fucking– For days, he’s been thinking about fucking you ever since he signed your tits. He throws your dress elsewhere when his lips land on yours. 

His tongue enters your mouth and presses against yours while his hands roam your body. He’s kissing you like he’s been waiting for this for centuries. There’s so much passion in his kiss, and your legs begin to grow weaker and weaker. You swore you had no chance when he walked away after the game, and god, you’re so fucking glad that you were wrong.

Toji’s hand unhooks your bra, and he slides it off before throwing it elsewhere, just like the dress. Toji pulls away from the kiss, and kisses down your neck. His lips feel so hot on your skin, and you’re burning up.

When he gets to your breast, he licks across the area where he signed. His thumb and index finger begin to pinch your nipple while his tongue circles your other nipple. His tongue flicks your nipple before his mouth wraps around it and he begins to suck.

“I liked them better with my name on them.” Toji says when he unlatches. He kisses your breasts until he gets to your other nipple, and he latches again. A breathy moan leaves your lips as he plays with your sensitive nipples. 

“You can write your name on them again.” You tell him. His lips go to yours again and he kisses you multiple times, his hands cupping your breasts. His lips then go to your ear and he whispers,

“Let me fuck your tits, baby.” His teeth nibble on your earlobe, your hand going to the buckle of his belt and undoing it. You grow more and more desperate by the moment. You’ll let him do just about anything that he wants to do. You unbutton and pull down his pants. He completely takes them off and your hand palms his cock. God, he grows more and more impatient with each passing second. He needs some relief.

You grab his hand and you lead him to the bed before you push him down. You pull down his boxers, allowing his cock to be free, before you get on your knees. Your hand wraps around his length, and you bring your lips together to spit on it a couple times before you put his shaft in the middle of your chest. You squeeze your tits together and he bites his bottom lip, holding back a moan. You begin to move your breasts and he watches you, taking everything in him to not loudly moan into the air. He’s been waiting for this for what feels like forever.

This is better than what he imagined. How pathetic would it be for him to come fast? He hates that you’ve taken over his thoughts, even though he hasn’t even known you for a week. You’re just so fucking pretty. 

“Fuck– I love your fucking tits.” He finally moans. Your head leans down and you’re licking the tip of his cock, and maybe he should’ve abandoned his drunk friends to fuck you last night; it definitely would’ve been much better than dragging too many drunk people back into a hotel room, keeping them from yelling into the streets and embarrassing themselves. It doesn’t matter anyway, you’re still here, fucking his cock with your boobs. “It’s so good.”

Your boobs keep moving up and down your boobs until his dick finally twitches, his cum making a mess. Some of it lands on your tongue, most of it on your chest. You make sure to swallow the cum that’s on your tongue, while his finger goes to your chest, gathering some of his cum before he traces his signature on your chest again.

“There we go.” He smirks as you get up from the floor. When his finger gathers his cum from your chest again, he brings it up to your lips and when you open your mouth, he shoves his fingers in. You gag on his fingers, and it sounds like music to his ears. 

He takes his fingers out, your saliva coating his digits. You get up from the floor and force him to lay down on the bed. You get on top of him, knees on either side of him. Your hands go to the hem of his shirt and you begin to pull it up. He helps you get his shirt off, and you swear there’s a god in your bed. Fuck he looks good.

“You wanna ride me?” Toji asks as his fingers begin to play with your clothed cunt. You bite down your lip as you hold back a pathetic moan in your throat.

“Whatever you want.” You answer. You sound so fucking pathetic and Toji loves it. He’s loving everything about this. 

“I just need you wrapped around me.” He answers as he pushes your panties to the side. You lean down, your mouth kissing his. Toji takes the opportunity to run his cock through your folds before he pushes himself inside of you. He lets you adjust to every inch of his cock.

Your hands go to his chest for support as you begin to move on his cock. Toji swears he’s in heaven when he feels you wrapped around his cock. Your pussy just feels so fucking good. This feeling is euphoric, and he swears he’ll forever remember this because god– He’s fucking moaning. He’s moaning so fucking loud too but you’re drowning it out.

“You feel so fucking good.” He can’t help but moan. His hands travel from your back to grip your ass. You’re moving back and forth on his cock, hitting that right spot that makes you feel so fucking good. He loves looking at your face, filled with pleasure that his cock gives him. He just wants to snap a picture so he can look at it.

Your movements were already slow in the beginning, they get even slower since you tire out quickly. It’s unfair that you’re doing all the work while Toji, who is an athlete that definitely has more stamina, does nothing. Toji teases you, “Tired? Already?”

“Please move, Toji.” You’re sticking out your bottom lip. He chuckles before he begins to do the work for you. You curse over and over again since his thrusts are rapid at least compared to the speed that you had set.

Your hand goes down to play with your clit. Your pussy begins to tighten around him, and he has to bite down his lip to not let out an animalistic noise. You throw your head back, arching your back as you shut your eyes, “Fuck– Love your cock.”

It’s all too much for you to handle. You stop playing with yourself when you’re near the edge. 

“You’re so tight.” He says through gritted teeth. You shut your eyes, and you keep moaning his name over and over again. You have no consideration for his teammates who are on the same floor as him. You don’t care if they hear or don’t hear. 

“Oh, Toji!” You loudly moan when you reach your high. He loses control, god, this is just better than everything. He’s never had something so good before. His hands go to your hips and his nails dig into the flesh.

“Need to come inside you.” He says, and you don’t care to push him away. You’re on birth control, you just need to feel his cum inside of you. So fucking bad. You’ll let him do just about anything that he wants to do with you. He’s got you in a trance ever since you met him.

“Do it, please please please.” You chant. His movements get sloppy until he finally fills you up with his cum. He keeps his cock buried inside of you until every drop of his seed is inside of you. When he pulls out, your lips repeatedly kiss his over and over again.

Your head then falls on his chest. He wraps his arms around you, and you smile as you feel his hand run up and down your back. You’re breathing in his scent, and you swear you’ve never felt so comfortable in someone else’s arms like how you feel right now.

“I’m leaving tomorrow.” He speaks up, and you lift your head to look at him. 

“Are you sad about it?” You ask him, and you watch him shrug. Your finger pokes his muscular chest before you tease him, “You’re sad because you’re leaving? We haven’t known each other for so long.”

“I know… And I’m not sad. Why would I be?” He responds. Your head lays back down on his chest and you’re listening to his heartbeat. “You’ve just made me feel so good. I’ve never laughed so hard, and I haven’t felt this good in ages. And I don’t feel like I can let that go. I really really like you.”

“We can always reconnect. You can fly back here.” You remind him, but he seems to have a very different idea. Very different. It makes you sit up and look at him wide eyed when he suggests,

“Let’s get married.”

[jinxposting]

Jason Todd x Jinx! reader Chapter 7

Mask

Your new friend has been busy.

The streets whispered tales of the Red Hood nowadays. How relentless he was. How merciless. How troublesome.

You loved it.

It's been so long since someone stirred things up. You grew weary of the usual suspects. When you live in Gotham - and are raised by Joker - you've seen everything. And when you've seen everything you grow bored quite easily. It was a delight to have a new party to help combat this boredom.

Red Hood was fundamentally different than you. You didn't have much to speak of when it came to morals, you just do whatever you please, whenever you please. He on the other hand was ruled by his morals. Driven by them. He overtook the drug rings just to stop them from selling to kids, sure he got money out of it but if that was the goal he wouldn't care who bought the product. Despite this, he aims to kill. No remorse or regret.

He fascinated you.

Today had been a lazy day. Slept in late, out all night. No business to speak of, simply tagging several billboards with spray paint. Graffiti relaxed you.

You shivered at the brisk breeze in the air. The temperature had been dropping recently, winter approaching. Soon you'd have to bundle up. You grimaced at the idea of having to cover up your fashion.

You stepped back to look at the finished piece you'd just graffitied. Blotches of blue and pink painted the Bat himself, his cowl forming two sharp devil horns. And of course a jagged frown to match.

"We're going for impressionist I see."

You whipped around, gun in hand, to see a familiar shade of red.

The man raised his hands. "Easy. I come in peace."

"Since when?"

"Since I need to talk to you."

You eyed him warily. You could just shoot him. His helmet is probably bulletproof, same as his armor. You holstered your pistol.

"Talk."

"You need to leave Joker."

"... Pfft-! Ha! That's a good one."

"I'm serious."

"I know, that's what makes it funny."

"Listen, I know you're loyal to him. But things are about to get very ugly very quickly. Consider this a courtesy call."

"Thanks but I'm a big girl. Nothin' I can't handle."

"You always did overestimate yourself."

There it was again. Familiarity. He acted as if he knew you.

"Alright, you want me to trust you? Start being honest." You took a step closer to him. "Who are you?"

"What?"

"You act like we've met before, but I think I'd remember a six foot something, built like a brick shithouse man in red. So spill it, who are you?"

"You do get the point of a secret identity, right?"

"Ugh! You're such a pain in the ass."

"Said the pot to the kettle."

You give up. This guy is a major headache. You haven't had this much snarky banter since...

No.

You eyed the man suspiciously. "... Take off the mask."

"You're seriously that desperate?"

"We can do this the easy way or the hard way." You flexed your hand over your gun.

"Don't make me hurt you."

"Don't make me."

You jammed the pistol into Red Hood's stomach. Unfortunately armor plus muscle equals immunity. You both struggled for the gun, you could tell he was clearly holding back. He really didn't want to fight.

You both wrestled for a while, no actual malice present. No, this fight was more... desperate. You who needed to see his face, and him, needing to hide it.

All it took was one wrong move. One miscalculation. Red Hood hadn't been paying attention to his footing, too preoccupied with keeping you at arm's length. Before he knew it his heel slipped from the billboard walkway. You grabbed him.

By the helmet.

His dead weight combined with your pulling resulted in him landing harshly below you. His feet hit the ground with an echoed slam. There in your hands was the infamous Red Hood. Hollow and silent.

You gazed over the edge. There stood the man, black hair whipping violently in the cold wind. A streak of white stood out in the darkness. He stared up at you, a snarl on his lips.

You knew that face.

"... Robin?"

[laurrelise]

someone talk with me about an AU where delores is a real girl who somehow survived the initial apocalypse and spends it growing old with five and keeping him sane

someone talk with me about delores being five’s age when he discovers her body in the rubble and thinks she’s dead before he notices the small rise and fall of her chest before he pulls her out and desperately tries to help her breathe normally again and watches the life fill her eyes with tears in his own that he’s finally no longer alone

someone talk with me about delores being an only child to parents who she wasn’t close with leading her to become dependent on herself until she meets five and learns to trust other people before finding out about his huge family and doing everything in her power to help him not only because she cares about him and wants him to be happy but also because she wants to experience the family she’s never had

someone talk with me about how delores never had powers but survived for the 40+ years in the apocalyptic wasteland of the future due to her seriously genius mind (and five’s help) and lives to help five figure out how to save his family

someone talk with me about young five and delores searching for anything they can find to survive before they stumble upon a half-broken mannequin with a surprisingly intact polka-dotted blouse that five says would suit her so she puts it on out of boredom from looking for materials before five looks at her with the most genuine, in-love eyes she’s ever seen and she decides to keep it just for him

someone talk with me about five always making sure delores has a comfortable place to sleep, to rest, to eat, etc

someone talk with me about five explaining his childhood so nonchalantly one day once he realizes that he can trust delores to her surprise, and she asks why he suddenly had the strength to tell her and he looks her in the eyes and says “believe it or not, you’re stuck with me, and i’m stuck with you, and i want you to know who i am when we’re kicking this apocalypse in the ass”

someone talk with me about teenage five teaching teenage delores how to defend herself with the training he was given during his childhood but reassuring her that he’ll always be there to protect her if something were to happen (to which she reminds him that she appreciates it, but knows she can defend herself with the spite and sheer willpower she has to survive)

someone talk with me about five and delores having a makeshift wedding and five’s vows being along the lines of “even if the rest of the world was alive, i don’t think i could ever hope to find someone that makes me as truly happy as you do, and i will be eternally grateful that of anyone i could get stuck in this goddamn apocalypse with, it was always you, and it will always be you”

someone talk with me about the handler showing up from the commission to recruit five as a temporal assassin and delores as a case worker because they’re both dangerously smart and incredible at surviving in harsh conditions (also, the handler approached them separately to see where their loyalties lied and they both firmly explained they wouldn’t go anywhere without the other)

someone talk with me about delores getting fed up with the handler repeatedly making moves on five despite him clearly being uncomfortable until it bubbles to a climax and she punches her square in the jaw, which results in an ER trip and zero regret (plus five falling even harder in love with the woman who endlessly sticks up for him)

someone talk with me about five and delores plotting an escape plan to get back to 2019 which all goes well, except five had once again messed up the math (or so he thought) and he and delores are placed back in their 13 year-old bodies, but she confesses that she doesn’t mind seeing the boy she fell in love with all those years ago once again

someone talk with me about delores learning to trust and love the hargreeves just as much as five, as they learn to love and trust her just as much

someone talk with me about five always keeping track of dates and specifically remembering the exact times of significant events for himself and delores, like the moment she looked at him for the first time, the moment he knew he was in love with her, and the moment they decided they were going to stop at nothing to keep each other alive and stop the world from ending

someone talk with me about five and delores, the 58 year-old couple that they are, snuggling up on elliot’s couch together because they can’t fall asleep without the other one there to remind them that they’re safe and out of harm’s way (mostly)

someone talk with me about how delores has never been the type to step down, and she continues to stand her ground and be brutally honest when shes upset or wants five to listen to her, and he admires her bluntness (and frankly, needs it) due to his impatience and expectations of honesty at all times

someone talk with me about delores knowing exactly when five needs his time alone and stepping away to help his siblings as much as she possibly can, usually by encouragement or (again) brutal honesty hidden behind a kind and genuine smile

someone talk with me about five reminding delores of his love for her whenever it’s too quiet or he thinks she’s gone too long without him showing it, in every way he can think of, like letting her know that he would’ve lost his mind in the apocalypse without her (which.. he kind of did?), finding little things that remind him of her and bringing them to her, and holding her hand whenever he sees frustration or discomfort bubbling behind her eyes

[kiwi-on-ice]

I found u on tik tok🤩 u said ur taking requests but if that has changed u can just ignore me. Could u do a F! Reader taking a nap in Moira’s lab while shes working. Maybe she gets distracted and they get freaky😏

Moira O'Deorain x fem!reader

Summary: When Moira allows you to stay in her lab while she works, you quickly find out how boring that can be. However, a surprise visitor and your outfit choice means the geneticist may not be able to concentrate on her work for long.

Word count: 2.7k

Warnings: 18+ smut, kinda mean dom!moira, no use of y/n, spanking, fingering, degradation, slight somnophilia, slight overstim

Notes: got several requests for Moira which i'm glad about, I love my sadistic evil scientist gf

“Fine, you may stay in the lab. But you will not distract me in any way, do I make myself clear?”

That confirmation meant the world to you, as you gleefully accepted her conditions. You knew upon becoming involved with Moira that she put her work above all else. You admired it greatly; despite her disregard for ethics and morals, she was a brilliant woman who was truly pushing the boundaries of science. But it meant you’d become needy, needy for any sort of attention she’d give you. So there you were, spinning on a desk chair absentmindedly on your phone as Moira worked. Occasionally, you look up to watch her, her brow furrowed as she tries to solve a complex problem you most likely wouldn’t be able to understand the half of. But you can’t deny how stunning she looks while she does it, how in her element she seems.

However there’s only so much you can do in a lab, especially when you’ve been instructed not to touch anything or even move in a way that was distracting. You watched as she synthesised different formulas, injected a test rabbit with a syringe that you shudder to think of what it contained and typed some data into her computer. But you weren’t a scientist, so you just glanced around the room or went on your phone. Listening to music in your earbuds, watching youtube, scrolling though tiktok, staring at Moira’s hands as she works diligently…boredom starts to set in regardless. Spinning in the chair softly, your eyes dart to the lab door opening and your head tilts.

“How’s it going hermana?” came a voice from behind Moira, causing both you and your lover to jump. Glancing up, you recognise the hacker immediately. Sombra, that’s what you remember Moira had called her. She’d given you information on her colleagues at Talon, most likely not being meant to, but you appreciated it regardless.

“Peaceful, until you showed up.” Moira mutters curtly, returning to her work and causing Sombra to smirk.

“Ah no need to get tetchy, the boss just wants an update is all.”

You watch as Sombra speaks, her hands behind her back as walks, before her eyes fall on you.

“It is progressing as expected.” Moira replies, her jaw clenches when she sees the hacker’s eyes trace over you. When you’d shown up in your skirt that perhaps was a little too short for Moira’s usual liking, she’d not imagined anyone else seeing how delectable your legs looked. Sombra seemingly doesn’t care about the doctor’s response anymore, instead slinking over to you.

“Well look at this, didn’t tell me you had a cute mascota cooped up here.” Sombra coos, a little condescending as she looks at you. Before you have time to react or reply, Moira interjects.

“She’s just visiting.”

“Doesn’t look like it, she looks quite cozy hm?” she giggles, booping your nose. The unexpected action causes you to giggle softly in return, and the curling claws of jealousy unfold inside Moira as she watches you smile.

“You may tell Akande that he will have his results within the month.” Moira says, clearly trying to dismiss Sombra from her laboratory, and get her away from what’s hers.

“Aw, you’re always so serious. Loosen up a little doc.” Sombra replies with a smirk, giving you a little wink. “Alright, nos vemos.”

And just like that, the hacker disappears from view. Your eyes widen a little, glancing around.

“How does she do that?” you ask, marvelling at the technological prowess.

“She’s as much digital as she is human, bunny, it would be impressive if she wasn’t so irritating.”

You laugh softly at Moira’s dismissive tone, getting comfy on the chair as you fiddle with your phone. Letting your head fall back, you bring your legs up and cause your skirt to ride up higher. Moira certainly doesn’t miss it, her eyes glued to the exposed skin of your thighs before returning to her work.

“…I’m sure I won’t be long.” The doctor says, in a tone quite unlike any you’ve heard from her before, soft and almost impatient. Either way, you smile softly as you keep getting comfy. With the soft hum of the lights, and the gentle tinkering of Moira moving beakers and typing on a keyboard, it isn’t long before your eyelids flutter shut.

Moira likes to think of herself as a capable woman, a woman of strong conviction. But after about an hour of sneaking glances at your sleeping form, of the way your chest rises and falls and how that damn skirt of yours is riding up so high she can catch a glimpse of your panties, even a woman like her is capable of becoming restless. She sighs, rubbing her eyes for a moment. Your soft breaths seemingly call to her like a siren song, and she at last relents.

You stir softly in your sleep, before a sharp feeling causes you to jolt, eyes fluttering open. Moira smirks cruelly, her hand underneath your shirt before pinching your nipple again. A strangled whine escapes your throat, your back arching a little involuntarily as you adjust to being awake again.

“Good that you’re awake dear,” she says lowly, her thumb gently circling your nipple almost as a soothing gesture, “you look charming while you sleep like that.”

You make a soft noise of contentment at her praise, her eyes drinking in the sight of you so vulnerable underneath her. She snakes her hand back out from under your shirt, before tugging the garment off. You can feel the heat rising to your cheeks as she does; you’d forgone wearing a bra today, not thinking anything of it. But now you were in her lab, completely topless and on show.

Moira seemingly appreciates the view, groping at your chest for a moment before she stands at her full height. “Do you have any idea what you do to me bunny? So distracting in your slutty little skirt.” She sneers down at you, and you hate how much it makes you wet. Clenching your thighs together, she smirks before pulling you up by your arm and capturing your lips in a kiss.

It’s messy and controlling, but oh so perfect. Her tongue completely overpowers yours, dragging across your bottom lip before exploring your mouth. Tangling in your hair, her fingernails scratch at your scalp as she pushes you backwards, your ass hitting the surface. You go to hop up, before she pulls away and turns you around, bending you over.

“That’s better…a position a slut like you should be used to.” She smirks, flipping your skirt up. You quickly brace yourself, scrambling to hold on to the counter before she slaps your ass, pretty gently for her standards. “Having to work, while your little doe eyes stare at me so pathetically…it’s a wonder I got anything done.”

She slaps your ass again before hooking her fingers underneath your underwear, pulling them down slowly. Moira always loved a show. Revealing yourself to her, you can’t see the soft smile that graces her usually severe features as she slowly drags a finger up and down your drenched cunt. Your thighs shake a little, as she drags her finger up to your clit, circling it softly. You immediately try and grind against her finger, causing her to tut and slap your ass once more.

“If you can’t stay still, perhaps I should strap you down hm? Treat you like the little lab rat you are?” she threatens, gripping your hip firmly. You shake your head quickly, not wanting to test her when she’s clearly riled up. Humming, she seems to accept that and starts to circle your clit yet again, although not before spanking you once more for good measure. Laying over the counter, you close your eyes and focus on the gentle pleasure she’s giving you, sighing softly. Her touch builds, circling over and over again as her other hand strokes your hip. You can feel the slight change in texture of the fingertips of her right hand, the artificial decay she’d infected herself with altering the skin to have a slightly rougher quality. Despite your worry about her well-being, you can’t deny the feeling of something so different, so dangerous touching you like that makes your pussy clench around nothing and your breath become shakier.

Eventually she decides to relent, sinking a finger of her left hand inside you. Stretching you out quickly before slipping another one inside, relishing in your moans that escape. “Good pet, tell me how you feel.”

“Good…feel so good.” You manage to say, doing your best to keep your body still and to not thrust back onto her fingers wantonly. She pumps them in and out at a steady pace, curling them and feeling you shiver as she hits your g spot repeatedly. Nobody knows your body quite like her; you’re her experiment, a girl all for her that she can touch and push and pull to see the results of her stimuli, and to watch as you fall apart beneath her touch time and time again. But when she sees you like this, willingly giving yourself to her and letting her be as mean or as gentle as she wants…an all too familiar feeling seems to warm her chest.

Shaking those thoughts away, she returns to the experiment at hand, as she digs her nails into your hip to make you jump. “There we go pet, keep making those delightful noises.”

You nod and moan, wanting to please her as much as she was pleasing you. Back arching, you whimper out her name, knowing what she likes. If it’s a show she wants, you can certainly provide. She smirks at your attempts to win her over, dragging her nails over your hips towards your back, leaving fresh red lines in her wake. The added pain only serves to intensify the pleasure, clenching around her fingers as she continues to thrust them deep inside you.

“How silly you look, taking my fingers like it’s your job. Although I suppose it is. Here I am, advancing humanities understanding of the scientific process, with my pet who exists to entertain me in my downtime.”

Her words cause a flush to rise up to your cheeks, but you know you can’t deny them. Instead your pussy gets impossibly wetter, as you confirm her degradation. She smirks and pulls her fingers out before flipping you round so you’re facing her, before settling your back against the counter. Spreading your thighs, her fingers make themselves at home within your cunt once more, thrusting a little faster as he gazes at your body. With your wriggling and squirming, you’re worried that you’ll cause the counter to move but Moira doesn’t seem to notice, or care.

With this new position, being able to see her slender body bend over yours to touch you, means your orgasm builds suddenly. You gasp and writhe, her nails once again digging in to your hips before opting to hold your thigh apart.

“You know what to do pet, prove I’ve trained you well.”

You immediately know what she means, and you nod rapidly. “Please can I cum? Please I’ve been so good please…I need it please…” you beg and plead, hoping she won’t deny you like she sometimes does after a more stressful day at the lab. Instead, her smirk remains as she nods, her fingers holding your thigh trailing down to rub your clit.

“Good, cum on my fingers.” She says bluntly, but with her permission it isn’t long until you’re clenching around her fingers and cumming with a breathy moan. You never get tired of the intensity of the pleasure she gives you, always thrilling and all-consuming. She keeps going, wanting to see you truly wrecked before she pulls her fingers out slowly.

“Breathe.” She instructs, stroking up and down your thighs as you come down. You nod softly, your breathing deep and evening out slowly. You sit up when you’re more grounded, smiling up at her. Your affection for her is prevalent in your gaze, and it makes her…blush a little. Once she realises, she quickly leans down to kiss at your neck, lavishing it with her lips and tongue. Tilting to give her access, she kisses your pulse point before biting softly, creating a hickey on your skin.

“Can you give me another?” she asks you against your neck, and your clit throbs from the insinuation. Giving your confirmation, she bites at your neck again before trailing her fingers back down between your legs. “Good pet, always so eager.”

She circles your clit, and you gasp at how sensitive it is. She shushes you, biting at your collarbone before pulling away to watch you. Her decayed hand reaches to caress your tits, and you grab at her waist to pull her closer. If she were in a harsher mood, she’d have punished you for touching her without consent, but her mind strays to how you’d smiled at Sombra when she’d teased you, and her possessive need wins out. You want her, you’re her pet. Nobody else's.

With your closeness, she leans down to kiss you once more, eagerly caressing your tongue with hers as her fingers play your clit like a finely tuned instrument. She’s aware of how sensitive you can get, especially going again in quick succession after cumming, so she wants to make the most of this moment. Her hand slides up from your tits to your jaw, holding it and angling you so you’re looking up at her. Moments like this remind you completely at how tall she is, how she always looks down at you (physically and to an extent metaphorically). Blinking, your eyes focus on hers as she pulls away from the kiss. Her hair is out of place, her skin slightly flushed and her lips parted, you think she looks like a goddess. So you tell her, causing her to look down momentarily before deflecting.

“I’m sure I pale in comparison to the way you look at this moment, sweet pet.” She murmurs, never one to be good at taking compliments. Her fingers increase their pace, causing all thoughts to flurry away from you as you lose yourself in the sensations. Sweat glistens on your skin as you moan, her eyes hungrily taking you in as you near your second climax. Her hand cupping your jaw gently traces down to hold your neck, ensuring you can’t look away. She can feel your pulse through her fingers, as you start to shiver.

“Cum for me again…” she whispers, as you start to tip over the edge, “oh, mo chroí.”

Whatever she said makes you cry out her name, cumming for a second time before leaning against her. She drags out your pleasure for as long as possible, before you start to twitch from overstimulation. Removing her fingers from between your legs, she holds your hip with one hand before her other slowly massages your scalp. Being with her like this, it was always one of your favourite parts. How she’d treat you delicately, like you were some porcelain doll, even for only a few precious moments. You stay like that, your breathing slowing before she looks at you.

“Perhaps it was not such a good idea to have you stay in here at all, you were most distracting.” She teases lowly, eliciting a soft giggle from you. “Come on pet, we can go home now. I’ll set my computer to monitor the cellular generation I’ve synthesized.”

You watch as she goes over to fiddle with her device, while you get changed and do your best to look a little more presentable. With a final tap of the keyboard, she moves back to you, placing her hand on the small of your back as she leads you out of her lab. Although the curling of her fingers around your waist as you leave the building tells you that it may not be the end of your night after all…

Sombra listens from her seated position, her eyes wide and eyebrows raised. Hacking your phone had been child play, hoping she could hear anything she might be able to use against the geneticist. Instead…she got a lot more than she bargained for, not that she’s complaining.

She smirks a little as she saves the audio file, maybe it’ll be useful. Maybe not. Either way, it’ll be fun to replay later.

[capr1pengu1n]

hello!

I would LOVE to see you write a oneshot for Arkham City Eddie if you are interested? It's my birthday on October 18th and I just knew I wanted to request another piece from you to celebrate! You have full reign to make it as salacious as you would like. Fem reader, please, but could you maybe do a brat kink with pigtails or something? I love picturing him with a partner that acts like a brat just to get his attention. 😈

I appreciate you, friend!

Happy Halloween!!

Until the lights go down

Summary: Under Edward's protection in Arkham City, you quickly become bored of your routine, and hope to spice up your time by seducing your lover

Warnings: 18+ smut, fem reader (no use of y/n), dom!eddie, thigh riding, blowjobs, rough sex, slight threat at the start, threat of exhibitionism, praise + degradation

Words: 5k

Notes: Happy birthday to the lovely @adhdnursegoat !!! Thank you for being such a sweetheart for as long as we've been mutuals, I really hope you have fun with this, and most importantly have a great birthday! <3

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Boring is not the word that you would have assumed would be your descriptor for the hellish megaprison you’d been thrown into…but as you lay on your back on the lumpy mattress, that’s the one that springs to mind. Boredom sets in like a rot, the latest gunfire from somewhere vaguely to the east of the building not even making you flinch like it used to anymore.

You weren’t completely sure how long both you and Edward had been here, although your lover was taken first. Watching the news in slight horror and anxiety as you saw the coverage detailing his move into the controversial new prison, more like a holding pen for the corrupt and the insane. Well…the corrupt, insane, and you. What both you and Edward weren’t planning on was how thorough Hugo Strange had been; Edward had never so much as whispered about your relationship to anyone, despite how much he secretly ached for Gotham to see how easily a man as intelligent as him could get a girl as pretty and devoted as you, but somehow Strange knew about you both. You’d been practically abducted and taken, chest heavy with your panicked breaths as you'd gazed upon the psychologist who had orchestrated this ordeal.

“Ah, Mister Nigma’s little pet. I wonder, will he protect you? Or will you be too much of a liability? A distraction from whatever twisted little game he hopes to play.”

His tone you remember was icy and clinical, head tilted as his eyes moved up and down you. You’d bit your tongue, knowing that any outburst may result in further injuries than just the bruises blooming on your arms beneath the guard’s tight grip. You looked down, but he stepped forward and gripped your jaw with a harsh cruelty. “I believe he’ll throw you to the wolves, that’s all a sociopath like him is capable of. You’re nothing but a foolish little girl for thinking he cares about you any more than a lapdog who satiates his primal needs.”

You couldn’t contain the death glare that you shot at him. He dropped his hand, leaning away from you before signalling to his guards, and before you knew it, you were in the lion’s den, so to speak. Forced onto the ground, you’d quickly scrambled to your feet as you adjusted to your surroundings. And as you noticed the eyes blinking at you from the streets.

With a shaky breath, you quickly assessed the situation. You knew you were the equivalent of fresh meat in here, only made worse by the fact they hadn’t given you another set of clothes, so there you stood in your skirt and jumper they'd kidnapped you in. Footsteps echoed behind you, a couple of men clearly wanting to intimidate you by jeering and laughing. Thoughts of breaking into a sprint had entered your slightly dazed thoughts, however you remember the sudden loud gunshot had seized your body up as you ducked. You quickly realised however, that nobody had been shooting at you, when you hear the inmates behind you quickly back away and speak.

“Fuck, I thought nobody had seen him in here. I ain’t getting’ involved.”

Confused, you looked up to see Edward striding towards you, confident as ever with a revolver in his hand. He didn’t say a word as he grabbed a hold of your arm and pulled you along, and you can’t deny the slight sadistic joy you got from glancing at the other inmates’ intimidated faces. Turns out he’d paid two of Penguin’s muscle to escort you both to his hideout, but he hadn’t spoken a word the whole way back, jawline stuck in a harsh line.

Once you were back, he’d lamented how stupid it was that you were here, how he didn’t have time to play the role of babysitter and keep you safe, how much of an imbecile Strange was for making such an enemy of him. But with a little difficulty, he’d assured you that he would, in fact, keep you safe, and the tight grip he’d kept on you that night confirmed it.

But now…now you were bored. You understand why he’s forbade you from leaving, but each day seems to bleed together into one long stretch of dullness. Edward barely had time for you, too busy concocting his masterplan, so that left you to wander around the building over and over again. He’d told you that you were beneath the iceberg lounge in an abandoned train-yard, but you couldn’t hear that much coming from outside apart from the occasional explosion.

So alas, you have the same shitty cold shower you do every day (although at least Edward’s hideout granted you the luxury of a shower in the first place) before getting changed. He’d given you some clothes he’d managed to obtain that vaguely fit you, but you decide to wear the outfit you’d been thrown in with. That’s when you hatch your plan.

An awful decision really, truly you were asking for trouble, but at least trouble was something interesting. So you tie your hair up in loose pigtails, rolling your skirt up for maximum effect, and skip down to where you know Edward will be. He’s sat, endlessly tapping away at his keyboard while observing the many monitors he’s set up to feed him information. You can’t deny you’ve always been impressed with his ability to multitask so well.

Scribbling some notes down on a scrap piece of paper, he hardly heard you come in until you lightly brush your finger along his shoulder and say in the softest voice you could muster, “Eddie, I’m bored.”

Taking a quick glance at you, he laughs. “You look ridiculous dear, I hadn’t realised you were so desperate for attention you’d attempt to replicate Harleen’s look. Do you expect me to be interested?”

You roll your eyes, letting your finger wander up and down his shoulder and collarbone beneath the tattered green suit jacket. “C’mon Eddie…I know you’re interested.”

“Just because I don’t want you to die an undignified death on the streets by some thug, doesn’t mean that I will drop all of my important work because you’re bored. Why don’t you dig deep into your limited cognitive capabilities and find something to do?”

“There’s nothing to do.” You lament, not being bothered by his usual condescending tone.

“And that’s my problem how exactly? Be grateful I’m letting you stay here.” Huffing, you sit up on his desk as he scribbles something else down. “Get off my desk.”

“Edward come on.” You whine, knowing you were acting like a petulant child, but at least he was actually acknowledging you.

He rubs the bridge of his nose, glasses falling down a little. “Do you have any idea what I’m attempting to plan here? What am I even saying, of course you don’t.”

“Tell me then.” You challenge, appealing to the narcissistic part of his personality that longs to be praised and recognised.

Eyes narrowing for a moment, he sits back in the chair and relents, starting to explain his plan. You hear him detail how he’ll kidnap the medical staff sent in to look after the welfare of the inmates, but you can’t help your thoughts drifting as he speaks. Always loving his voice, you allow your mind to bathe in the sound, eyes flitting over him. He’s clearly stressed, but when isn’t he these days? His tie hangs loosely around his neck, and your fingers itch to fix it…or to have him rip it off in a desperate haze before using it to bind your wrists. You blink your way out of those thoughts, as he’s still explaining the master plan, hands waving to solidify his points.

Your gaze flits to them, the dark purple fingerless gloves drawing attention to his digits, cleaner than they usually are, most likely due to his informants building whatever is left of the various contraptions, leaving his hands free to scheme. What you wouldn’t give to have those hands wrapped tightly around your throat, holding you in place as he uses you. Or perhaps have them drag along your trembling form, feeling the leather contrasting your smooth skin as they reach their crude destination. Or even have those long digits filling up your needy cunt, curling in just the right way that he knows will have you gushing all over his hand.

You notice he isn’t wearing a belt either. How easy it would be to just crawl to your knees, unbutton his trousers and have him gasping and gripping your hair as you-

“You really aren’t listening to a word I’m saying, are you?” His firm tone forces you roughly from your salacious daydream, blinking at him dumbly. Laughing coldly, he continues, “Really? Nothing to say? Maybe you’d have an inch more of an intellect in that pretty head of yours if you could restrain yourself from eye-fucking me every chance you get.”

Feeling the flush burn in your cheeks, you decide to double down. “Can’t help it. Not when you look so good like that.”

His eyebrows raise. “When I’ve been in a hellhole that doesn’t even have hot water, that is when you find me the most desirable?”

Others may not have noticed any change from your lover, but you know him too well. You notice the way his shoulders have relaxed slightly, how his legs have parted just enough for you to see. So you metaphorically pounce, moving off his desk slowly before straddling his lap, legs on either side of him, making the chair squeak slightly. “When we’ve been here and you’ve hardly touched me, that’s when. Can’t help that I’m needy”

He allows you to sit on his lap, hands moving to hold your hips gently. “Ah, my pet is feeling neglected is she?” His tone is mocking, but his wolfish grin and the way his eyes dart to your lips show he’s feeling just as pent up.

You make a noise of affirmation, moving to shift your hips over him. “Yes…you need to do something Edward.”

“Do not order me around.” He says lowly, tutting, “I think you’re forgetting who is in charge here.”

You smile, finally getting what you want. “Who is in charge?”

Letting out a slight groan, he grabs your cheeks in his hand, squishing them. “Oh you’re really playing with fire, my dear.”

You give him the most doe-eyed look you can muster before he kisses you roughly. Moaning into his mouth, you feel his tongue push into your lips, claiming you quickly and completely. It’s hungry and desperate, saliva being swapped in a way that would cause even the most provocative person to blush. In return, you do a more deliberate grind of your hips, feeling satisfaction as he bucks up into you instinctively. He pulls away, a string of saliva connecting you both.

“So your plan was to wear that stupid hairstyle and slutty skirt in the hopes you’d seduce me into giving you what you want?” he mutters, eyes taking in your body on his lap. Often, he looks at you like he can’t quite believe how attracted you are to him. He’d never admit it of course, to anyone who dared to find out, he’d boast about how natural it is for a gorgeous girl like you to pursue a man of such high intellect, charisma and looks. But deep down, he’s shocked that you desire him like you do, how you’d willingly be on his lap, pawing for his attention.

You nod, knowing it’s best to not lie in this situation, to which he chuckles darkly. “Oh sweetheart, you really are filthy, aren’t you?”

At your slight giggle, he leans and kisses up your neck before whispering into your ear. “I think it’s time I remind you that I’m in control…that I decide when you get touched, when you get pleasured. Not you.”

When you consent, he hums in mock thought, fingers tracing down to your hips, before reaching the soft skin just below where your skirt ends. He taps it a few times, relishing in the way you practically vibrate at the small contact, before reaching up and up to feel the material of your underwear.

“It’s a good thing a mind such as mine prepares for any eventuality.” He boasts, and your momentary confusion is dissipated when he produces a small knife from his jacket, cutting the material so it falls undignified to the hard floor. You pout a little, it’s not like you have an abundance of panties in here, before he moves the sharp blade to your thigh, gently tracing. “Problem?”

You shake your head quickly; you love being a brat sure, but you aren’t completely certain you want to unlock whatever sadistic desires he could have while holding a sharp object. Luckily he seems satisfied with your pussy now being out, but instead of touching it he simply places the knife back in his jacket before maneuvering you so you’re straddling his thigh. Gripping your hips tight, he moves you over the rough fabric of his trousers, before casting you a disinterested look.

“There, perhaps now you’ll be satiated by my mere frame while I continue my important work.” He says, but you don’t miss the cocky smirk that paints his face for a second as he speaks, before he quickly hides it.

Instead you let out a soft whine of protest, but the friction is too delicious to stop. So as he wheels the chair closer to the desk, his arm reaching to grab his nearly blunt pencil, you grip his shoulders and rolls your hips. A gasped moan escapes you, the whole situation coupled with how needy you’ve been for god knows how long means your cunt is alive with sensations that it greedily feasts on.

The only sounds from the room are your choked whimpers, the slow hum of the monitors and the scratching of his pencil on his notepad. You’re certain that there’s now a wet patch on the fabric beneath you with how much your pussy is leaking, begging to be filled or played with properly. Clit throbbing, you attempt to grind harder but it gives you little relief, so you press your forehead against his shoulder. You try to control your breathing, enough to formulate some plea, but deep down you know it won’t work. You’ll get your pleasure when Edward deems it time.

You aren’t sure how long you keep grinding, but your desperate moans increase in both frequency and pitch. He clicks his tongue at a particularly salacious noise that leaves your parted lips, and only then does he finally look at you; pupils blown so wide they’re like pools of ink, searching his body and face for anything that might free you from this pleasure-deprived prison he’s placed you in.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asks condescendingly, and when you shake your head, a deep chuckle escapes him. “Greedy girl, you’re truly never content, are you?”

He grabs your waist roughly, stopping your movements before pushing his hand beneath your skirt and feeling the wet mess. “Soaked, as I predicted. I bet you’ve made a mess of my nice trousers haven’t you? Well, we can’t be having that. On your knees.”

You rush to follow his command, cheeks burning as he tuts at the discoloured fabric on his thigh. Still you do your best to look tempting as you gaze up at him, blinking slowly. He seemingly appreciates it, running a hand along your jaw. “You’ve distracted me from my plans by behaving like such a harlot, so it’s only fitting I treat you like one.”

As he speaks, he unbuttons and frees himself from his trousers, length springing free and your mouth practically waters in anticipation. But before you can taste it, he stops you. “No no…you have to make this worth my time, girl. Now ask me nicely.”

You swallow, attempting to formulate the words in your head before you start to beg. “Please Edward, please let me please you. I want to…I need to please you.”

He smirks. “Good attempt, but calling me my name is most certainly not what I want right now.”

Knowing his egotistical nature very well, you relent, the brattiness making way for a carnal need for him. “Please let me please you Mister Nigma, Sir.”

He gives you a soft pat on the cheek that you can only infer means you’ve done a good job before he allows you to part your lips and take the head in your mouth. Sighing in relief, you suck slowly before pushing forward to take in more, bobbing your head as you savour finally having his attention. He lets out a small groan of satisfaction that makes your clit pulse, so you keep going, dragging your tongue along the underside.

“Good…perhaps I’ve been using you wrong this whole time. Instead of seeing you as a distraction, maybe I should just chain you to the desk to keep as my own personal stress reliever. Ready to open her whore mouth and take me whenever I see fit. I’m sure my productivity would increase.” He brags, although the hand that currently isn’t stroking your hair is gripping the arm of the chair so hard you’re sure the knuckles under his glove are white.

You moan around him in response, the sounds of you sucking filling the room in an indecent cacophony. As you do, your body feels like it’s on fire, like any sensation would tip you over the edge. But you’re determined to make him come undone, blinking up at him as you take him deeper. The hand that was on the top of your head runs down to your jawline, before a wicked idea forms.

“Well, I suppose if you insist on wearing your hair like that, might as well make it useful.” He sneers down at you, before gripping both ends of your pigtails. You realise what’s going to happen, and you do your best to relax your throat as he pulls you down on his cock, using the hair like handlebars to move you as he sees fit.

He isn’t being as rough as he could be, clearly holding back from really ruining your poor throat. But he still pushes you down until your eyes water, feeling his cock reach almost the back of your throat before giving you the respite of pulling you back up to the tip. Edward lets out a small sigh, eyes closing for a moment before snapping back open. He’d never been able to deprive himself of the beauty of your face as he ruins it.

“Fuck…look at you sweetheart. Such a mess.” He says like he’s chastising you.

You can’t hope to respond, a small whine escaping you until his cock fills your mouth once more. Sure, he’s not overly big, but he prides himself on being big enough to completely fill whatever hole he deems suitable. Over and over again he uses you, until you blink away soft tears and suck in a particularly good way; a hiss escapes him and he pulls you off roughly, letting go of your pigtails.

“I suppose you’ve been good enough to warrant a reward, I’ll allow you the honour of sitting on my cock.” He says, trying to mask the real reason; that he was seconds away from blowing his load deep down your throat.

But you’re delighted you finally have the chance to feel him properly, in the way you’ve touched yourself every night you’ve been here thinking about. So you climb back into his lap, positioning yourself above him before he crudely uses his cockhead to rub your clit in circular moments. Moaning simply makes him chuckle darkly, cooing at you to “stop behaving like a needy whore and enjoy what I give you.”

Luckily he lets you finally sink down on him, feeling every inch stretch you open until you’ve taken him all the way. You both moan out, but you watch as he tilts his head back and enjoys the sensation of your warm cunt squeezing around him. He’s gorgeous like this, so unlike the demeaning supervillain he presents himself to Gotham as. You have no doubt you’ll see glimpses of that in a moment, but for now you enjoy how blissful his features are.

You experimentally roll your hips, making you both groan out, before you attempt to find a rhythm. He keeps a tight grip on your hips, clearly not wanting you to go too fast too quick, seeking to enjoy you for as long as he can. But you want to just ride him hard and fast, to chase your release until you’re making a mess all over his lap.

“Always so tight for me.” He grits out, and you bathe in the praise as you keep moving up and down. Your fingers dig in to the shoulder of his jacket, before he huffs and shrugs it off, leaving him in his off-white shirt and question mark tie. As you keep riding him, your hands trail down to his tie, idly playing with the material between your digits.

His grin grows as he looks at you. “So eager to strip me, or does the pretty girl have a lewder idea of what to do with my tie?” he says condescendingly.

When you just moan in response, he doubles down. “I could bind those pesky wrists behind your back, make sure you aren’t touching what isn’t yours. Or perhaps I’ll blindfold you, so you never know what your master is going to inflict upon you.”

His words cause you to clench harder around him, and he starts to play with your clit lazily as you move. With how pent up you are, your pace increases a little as his actions and words have you practically tasting your orgasm already. His hips twitch upwards a little, clearly fighting the urge to just take you all for himself in a mad rush. But how can he when you’re so close to coming undone for him, all by yourself?

“Oh look at that, is the big girl going to cum all by herself?” he smirks, his tone making you flush with embarrassment and arousal. But he’s right, with your body moving up and down coupled with his dexterous fingers toying with your clit, you were on the edge of orgasm.

As you nod quickly, he smirks and nods in return. “Make a mess all over me dear, just know I’m not going to stop until I achieve satisfaction.”

His words had trailed off in your mind half way through as you were too busy cumming on his cock, shaking and writhing in his lap. You slump forward, and he allows you the mercy of resting for a few moments before he bucks up into you, causing you to whine softly against his ear.

But he stops, his eyes darting to one of the top monitors, and a wicked expression crosses his face. “Be a doll and turn around for me, okay?”

You nod blindly at his instruction, turning so your back was to his chest before sinking back down on his throbbing cock. In your haze to do what he’d asked, you hadn’t followed his gaze to see what he’s looking at, not until he grasps your hips and begins to move you again do you glance upwards.

On one of the monitors, is one of his informants, dressed in what you think is Two-Face’s gang’s uniform, waving at the camera to get your lovers attention. Your breath catches at the sight, but Edward only chuckles behind you, not allowing you to slow down.

“Looks like we have an audience. Tell me, what’s to stop me from broadcasting a projection of what’s happening here outside on that wall behind him? Then he’d be able to see what a little whore like you does for my attention, for the riddler’s attention.”

His voice is deep and commanding, clearly the situation has stroked his ego in that all too familiar way, his grip almost bruising on your hips as he continues. “I think it’ll be good for the denizens of this wretched place to see who is really in charge, to remind them that my intellect has afforded me not just my reputation, but anything I desire. Including my cute little pet who offers herself up so willingly to me.”

His words are punctuated with guttural moans, his need now overwhelming. But he’d never pass up an opportunity like this, so he leans forward, one hand still holding you firmly in his lap and on his cock, before flicking a switch.

“Speak.”

“M-Mister Nigma, sir. I planted all them trophies ya wanted down in the courthouse, although I couldn’t do one of them, since I-I was nearly caught and-“

A particularly rough thrust upwards has you biting your lip after a small noise involuntarily escaped you, but you keep quiet as you try and control the rhythm of your movements. You’re glad you aren’t being projected for the man to see, but there is still the risk he’ll hear you. After all, you aren't sure how much the microphone can pick up, so he might be able to hear the soft squelch of your cunt as you move it up and down. Edward doesn’t seem bothered by the noise you made, simply rubbing your hips as he glares at the monitor.

“And you think this excuse will be useful to you? What the hell do I pay you for? I know a simple verbal instruction is hard for a cerebrally challenged monkey to follow, but do try and keep up.” He lambasts the poor guy out front, doing a remarkably good job of keeping his voice steady and even. But you can tell he’s getting off on the power of the situation; of having his lover servicing him sexually while he chastises one of the people who works for him.

“S-Sorry Mister Nigma, sir. I’ll get on it right away.”

Cruelly, Edward decides that now is the perfect time to move his hand up to tweak your nipple harshly, causing a whine to fall past your lips. You’re sure the man heard it, his features furrowing a little in confusion on the monitor before Edward flips the switch off.

With a grunt he lifts you off him before bending you over the desk and entering you in one harsh thrust yet again, the breath being knocked out of you. He sets a rough pace, clearly chasing his own release. All you can do is cling on for dear life as he uses you like a toy. The crude noises of your pussy being filled over and over again only serve to have you clenching around him in pleasure, your eyes forced to face the monitors. Forced to see just how much control Edward has over Arkham City, how much he knows about everything going on here as your eyes watch the inmates, and crucially how none of them know that he’s fucking you like a man possessed while you observe them.

“Fuck, it’s a shame I can’t fill you up while we’re in here. Guess I’ll just have to make you a filthy mess instead.” He grunts out, and you barely have time to process before he pulls out and quickly strokes himself to completion all over your ass. Both of your breaths can be heard heaving as you take a few moments to come down, the sensations still a gentle simmer across your skin. You hear him tuck himself away, fixing his clothes before you gently try and move.

“Stay.” He demands quietly, and you’re unsure why until you feel him gently cleaning his cum away from your skin with a spare rag. Once he’s done, he smooths your skirt back down as he helps you back into a standing position. Without uttering another word, he leads you back to the makeshift bedroom, settling you on the mattress to rest. You smile softly at the feeling of him taking care of you, in his own way. He sits on the edge, fidgeting with his hands a little. Getting comfy on the mattress, you go to reach out for him before stopping yourself, sensing something is…off with him.

“I…do in fact have something else for you. I was planning on giving it to you later, but you forced my hand.” He says suddenly, causing you to tilt your head in intrigue. Getting up, he rifles through a drawer you hadn’t thought to look in until he removes a small black box, with a slightly charred ribbon tied around it.

“I can imagine spending your birthday in a prison city wasn’t your ideal scenario.” He states, handing you the box as you look at him, shocked. You hadn’t even mentioned it was your birthday, not really thinking it was the right time in your current situation.

“You remembered?”

He lets out a scoff. “Of course I remembered, I’m no simpleton. I’m more than capable of remembering a date, especially when this dim-witted society places so much emphasis on someone’s date of birth.”

As you glance at the box in your hand, he continues with an awkward cough. “I confess I did have something a little better in mind. But it’s hard to procure items in here that aren’t of the firearm or explosive variety, and I didn’t factor into my plans our joint incarceration.”

With a soft smile, you move yourself into a seated position and tug on the ribbon before opening the box, seeing a simple bracelet in his signature shade of green. “Edward…it’s lovely.”

“Yes, I’m aware.” He says quickly, for once his eyes were trained to the ground instead of your face, “Again, not the gift I was planning for you but…well it’s the best I could do here.”

You’re truly touched, heat rushing to your cheeks as you smile lovingly up at him. “Edward it’s perfect, thank you.”

Shuffling, you wrap your arms around him into a tight hug, burying your face in his neck. You don’t care that you’re both covered in dry sweat, or that you both reek of sex, all you want is to be close to him. He pretends to huff at your display of affection, but he wraps his arms around you regardless, holding you flush against him.

“Happy birthday, my dear.”

[tkdb-hell]

40 - Ren would be great 🫶

#40 - A gentle kiss that quickly descends into passion, with little regard for what’s going on around them.

Kisses Prompt List • Kisses Masterlist

(I do my best to write the reader as gender neutral unless otherwise specified - if you send me an ask and prefer masc or fem, please let me know)

♡ MINORS DO NOT INTERACT ♡

“Okay, okay… Last pull for the day,” Ren muttered, his eyes locked on his phone screen. The Jabberwock lounge was quiet, save for the occasional chirping of birds outside and the soft rustling of leaves as the weather shifted once again. You sat beside him, watching with mild amusement as he furiously tapped through his gacha game, clearly frustrated.

“Ugh, trash again. This game hates me,” Ren grumbled, tossing his head back dramatically. “I’ve been grinding for weeks, and all I get is useless three-star junk.”

You leaned in, resting your chin on his shoulder. “Want me to try?”

Ren turned to you, raising an eyebrow. “You? What, you think you’ve got some kind of luck magic?”

You grinned. “Maybe. Can’t hurt, right?”

With a sigh, he handed you his phone. “Fine. Knock yourself out. But don’t blame me when it spits out more garbage.”

Taking the phone, you navigated to the summon screen. You gave Ren a quick glance before tapping the summon button, watching as the animation played out. The familiar swirl of colors filled the screen, but then, something unexpected happened—a golden light burst, signaling something rare.

Ren sat up straighter, eyes wide. “Wait… No way…”

The summons continued, and with each flash of gold, another SSR appeared. Not just one or two, but multiple—all characters Ren had been chasing for weeks.

You turned to him, smug. “Told you I’m lucky.”

Ren stared at the screen in disbelief, his mouth opening and closing as he tried to process what just happened. “This—this isn’t real… There’s no way… I’ve been pulling for weeks and you just—”

Before he could finish, you leaned in and pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek, a teasing smile on your lips. “See? Luck magic.”

Ren blinked, still stunned by the summon results and now by the unexpected kiss. But something shifted in his expression—his usual sarcastic demeanor melted away, replaced by something deeper, more intense. Without warning, he turned, cupping your face in his hands, and kissed you back.

This time, it wasn’t gentle. The kiss quickly descended into something passionate, hungry, as though all the frustration he’d felt moments ago had been channeled into this one moment. His fingers tangled in your hair, pulling you closer as if he couldn’t bear to let you go.

The world around you faded—the game, the lounge, even the ever-changing weather outside. All that mattered was the warmth of his lips against yours and the way his hands held you like you were the only thing keeping him grounded.

When you finally pulled away, both of you were breathless. Ren’s eyes, usually half-lidded with boredom, now gleamed with something brighter, something raw.

“You really do have magic,” he muttered, his voice low and hoarse.

You laughed softly, brushing a strand of hair from his face. “Maybe. Or maybe I’m just your good luck charm.”

Ren smirked, the familiar teasing glint returning to his eyes. “If that’s the case, you’re never allowed to leave. Ever.”

“Oh? So now I’m stuck summoning for you forever?”

He shrugged, leaning in again for another kiss. “Not just summoning. Everything.”

You rolled your eyes, but the smile on your lips betrayed how much you didn’t mind. “Fine. But if I’m doing all the work, you owe me something in return.”

Ren’s smirk widened as he pulled you closer again. “Deal.”

The forgotten game continued playing its cheerful victory tune in the background, but neither of you paid it any mind. Ren had finally gotten his lucky summons—but somehow, he felt even luckier now.

[akutasoda]

mm can you write showering with kisses tecchou, jouno and any others?????

how are tou doing

stay safe

-🦢🌊

kisses galore!

synopsis - showering them in kisses

includes - ranpo, jouno, tecchou

warnings - gn!reader, fluff, even more fluff, slight teasing in ranpo's, wc - 807

a/n: im doing well! hope you are aswell and keep safe yourself!

ranpo edogawa ★↷

ranpo was bored out of his mind. he lay slumped over his desk trying desperately to think of something that could cure this boredom. at the moment the agency was experiencing a lack of 'interesting' cases that ranpo wanted to work on and so he had far too much free time on his hands.

unfortunately you happened to walk into the offices at the very moment ranpo lifted his head from his desk. immediately he called you over with urgency ans you felt compelled to see what was bothering him.

'find something to entertain me!' he was practically demanding you to help him cure his boredom but you knew if you didn't help soon, he may become all the more intolerable for the rest of the day - or week, if nothing happened to change that in that time.

it was a longshot but currently the only thing you could think of and it was better to try now - the rest of the agency were either working in an actual case or elsewhere. you cupped his head in your hands before placing lots of kisses to various parts of his face.

'does this satisfy your boredom?' you drew back and asked, taking note of his almost lovestruck face that morphed more into a smirk, and a menacing one at that.

'hmm, i'm not completely sure, perhaps a few more will help me decide'

you could only sigh before giving in to his whims and peppering his face in even more kisses.

saigiku jouno ★↷

from the very moment that jouno walked through the door, you could tell he wasn't in a great mood. it was rather comidic to you how childishly he could behave if he was annoyed or upset but that didn't diverge from the fact that he was clearly both as of now. he was practically storming around your shared accommodation so you had to figure a way to calm him down, even just a little.

you managed to catch him when he stopped in your shared bedroom, he was still noticeably a tad sulky but the worst of it seemed to of dissipated. you knew he knew you were in the room with him amd so you made no move to announce your presence and decided to get straight to the point.

'noticed you need some cheering up and i thought i'd help' you noticed how his frown still seemed permanently etched into his face

'how so?' his usual attitude seemed null and you were surprised at how down he actually seemed.

you didn't answer verbally as his answer came in the form of a kiss to his low jaw, and soon another was placed near to the last. you finished placing kisses across his jaw and moved to kiss any other place on his face you could. the results were visibly show by the slight tint of red dusting jouno's cheeks and a small smile cracked his frown.

'i see, now it's only fair i reciprocate such a lovely action?'

tecchou suehiro ★↷

the night wasn't anything special per say, you and tecchou were cuddled up on the couch as some movie played on the tv. you couldn't even really remember why you two decided to watch this one in particular but it wasn't exactly capturing your attention and so boredom soon overpowered.

you weren't too sure if tecchou was actually entirely engrossed in the film aswell but before you could wonder anymore, an idea formed in your head. sitting up slightly you looked toward him andhe immediately looked at you back - clearly he wasn't really that interested in the film. he looked like he was ready to ask what you were doing or if everything was ok, but you beat him to it.

leaning to the side slightly, you placed a kiss to the side of his face before placing another in a close by spot. after kssing him a couple of times you drew back and looked at him, he looked rathrr flustered yet held a small dmile on his face that you couldn't help but mirror before diving back in and giving the other side of his face the same treatment.

the movie was now entirely forgotten, and as you drew back a second time you noticed how tecchou himself seemed to follow your movements - almost as if he was chasing the kiss you were yet to give him after kssing every other area of his face. he didn't say anything and neither did you but you both knew what you both wanted at this point, a final kiss on the lips.

although tecchou would be rather happy to have you pepper his face in kisses for the rest of his life.

taglist - @little-miss-chaoss, @vi-chan07

[vamphorica]

♰ Religion in Death Note ♰

One of the most fascinating things about Death Note as a franchise is its exploration of faith and religion in the context of the world building, and how it compliments this using Christian motifs and imagery. The latter is often portrayed superficially, which I think is a shame given that there are many occasions throughout the series where relationships that some characters have with faith could be examined in accordance with the world Ohba has created.

For the sake of simplicity, I'm going to consider two main religious influences in the world of Death Note:

The Canon Explanation (The Shinigami Realm, Rules of the Death Note, Mu as the Afterlife, etc.)

Christianity (specifically, the use of Catholic imagery in Ohba’s official art.)

Let's begin with Canon.

i. The Canon Explanation

Ohba is clearly partial to weaving a complex web of rules as a means to support the supernatural premises of his stories (see Platinum End). This makes The Canon Explanation so effective not only because it limits the behaviour of the characters throughout the text, but it is also very pertinent to religion conceptually. By listing out the apparent commandments of the Death Note, a set of religious principles have been established that the users of the Death Note must follow. While you are not technically committing a sin by, let's say, trying to kill someone over the age of 124 with the Death Note (x), it sets out a guide which is indicative of rules one might follow in a religious text. You could say that Light, Misa, Mikami, and Takada each had to have a level of faith in the Death Note in order to use it. They all followed the rules, even if they did so under Light's direction as their self-proclaimed God. Light’s familiarity with these rules and his confidence with manipulating them is what ultimately makes his reign as Kira so effective. I think the act of writing a name down in the notebook itself is a form of commitment to belief – as a concept, the Death Note seems too absurd to a sceptic.

When the Shinigami begin arriving in the human world, it is obvious that they are not divine beings in the perfect, omnipotent manner that humans may expect. If anything, they are curiously quite human themselves – forgetting rules and acting as a result of emotional impulses. It is indeed Ryuk's boredom that sets the story into motion – everyone who died as a result of the Death Note did so because of him. The Shinigami pose no actual threat to the humans they follow, often noting how humans appear more competent at being Death Gods than they themselves are. While this is subjective, depending on interpretations of faith, the typical Grim Reaper figure is seen as a serious, all-knowing figure that is to be feared, while the Shinigami of Death Note are far less intimidating. I think this delivers a decent proposal that religion in Canon is not a matter of worshipping the supernatural, or suggesting that they are better than us. By having the Shinigami presented as being similar to ourselves, human characters have the ability to use their power without the fear of divine retribution. Light’s extensive knowledge of the Death Note rules and how to work around them, along with his strict work ethic, only further demonstrates his commitment to carving out his position as God when compared to the Shinigami.

Mu is explained quite simply – there is no heaven or hell. There is a notable lack of elaboration here for a reason, but I do wonder if Light might have been more reluctant in his pursuits had traditional heaven and hell been at stake. Would he have become Kira if his act of justice would damn him to hell? Would he be concerned that his victims might end up going to heaven? Mu is the Canon version for what happens when one dies in this universe, so, beyond proposing speculative questions, there is little to analyse here.

Now, there is one character who I want to delve deeper in relation to The Canon Explanation: Mikami.

Mikami -> Mikami is deeply devout. Of all the named characters in the series, Mikami is the only one who is expressly religious, particularly regarding the Canon Explanation. While I think it is interesting to consider Light Yagami's relationship to Godhood, it is only through Mikami that we understand Kira’s societal impact. Mikami is also the only character in Death Note to be granted a rather comprehensive backstory, so we are given an insight into what led him to become such an ardent Kira supporter. Light chose Mikami not just for these strongly held opinions but also because of his devotion to him specifically. Mikami is ritualistic in the way he worships the idea of Kira through his dedication to writing one page of names in the Death Note daily, following Light’s commands without question. The only other occasion where we see a similar act of religiosity towards Kira is at the very end of the manga when a group of Kira supporters take a pilgrimage to pay their respects. Yet even this does not quite encapsulate Mikami's religious fanaticism. His strong conviction that Kira is God demonstrates the societal inclination to view Kira as a religious figure to be worshipped.

I think because Death Note relies so strongly on Light's internal psychology as he encounters various forms of opposition, the external impact of Kira on the world is only provided to us through passing mentions of political support. It is absolutely crucial to interpret Kira in a political context, but again, this is not really explored in too much detail. What we do know is that Kira supporters, including Misa, Mikami and Takada, may politically be in favour of Light's moral judgement, but because he poses himself as a God rather than a political leader, we must assume that he wants to play into a deific persona because it affords him far more unconditional power than he would have as a mere mortal.

From the beginning, Light is able to present his power as originating from a divine source, and it is only until Lind L. Tailor’s death that it becomes apparent what limitations Light is working within. Before then, criminals dying of heart attacks across the world could not be considered to be within human capability, let alone performed by a singular perpetrator, so Light maintained the illusion of omnipotence. Distancing himself from his humanity not only gave Light the benefit of being undetectable for some time, but also encouraged people to support Kira through the belief that he was inherently above them. It was only L who managed to shatter this façade early on in the Kira investigation.

I will now move onto something slightly more tangible, as it reflects our world within the text – Death Note's use of Catholic imagery.

ii. Christianity

As if to make up for the lack of exploration into Kira's religious influence, Death Note heavily relies upon Christian imagery to highlight its desire for religion to be seen as a core component of the franchise. Realistically, I am aware that a lot of manga and Japanese culture from the 2000s was heavily inspired by Catholic imagery and that there was certainly an aesthetic trend being taken advantage of here. However, I am still going to consider it specifically in relation to Death Note. It gives me an excuse to move on from Ohba to Obata anyhow, which I am more than willing to do.

Let's have a look at some official art.

There's a lot to be discussed about these specific pieces of art, and there are plenty more examples that I am sure can be found and analysed over, but we can recognise what their general theme is – kitschy Catholicism. This is not intended as criticism, I love Obata's art and as unsubtle as these official pieces may be, they reinforce Death Note's desire to incorporate religion into its series as a strong motif, if not an effectively developed theme. It also somewhat exposes its superficiality. The imagery is explicit, bold and bright, without doing much work in considering what the actual religious belief might be able to bring to the series beyond the visual components (according to this post -> x the Latin on the last image isn't rendered properly, which proves my point further). There are instances in the anime where there are Biblical references, such as frames that foreshadow L’s death, but the manga does not engage in these same parallels.

This leads me nicely onto talking about Misa.

Misa -> Misa is shown throughout the series to lean heavily into fashion and interior design that reflects a very Gothic Christian aesthetic, which is undeniably iconic and an important visual aspect to her character.  Mirroring the series more generally, it does appear that this is the extent to her relationship with the Christian faith. Misa’s allegiance to Kira could suggest that the trauma of her parents’ death came to some kind of resolution when their murderer was himself killed. Again, we have no idea if she actually was a religious character to begin with and I need to stress, it does not matter, but it is still worth considering given how a lot of the Christian imagery in the series is associated with her character specifically. I don't think this feeds into any flat character analysis that might suggest she doesn't know the potential significance of the crosses she wears or decorates her home with. We could just say she has an aesthetic that is very well composed but doesn't carry much weight beyond its stylistic merit.

Derailing slightly, but I do wish they had maintained this style throughout the entire series. Alas, as soon as she met Light, she lost this cool Goth look pretty quickly. Rem would never have let this happen. 💔

One more character analysis before we wrap this up. The quite honest reason as to why I decided to write up this essay was so that I could discuss Mello in relation to religion in Death Note.

Mello → Much of what I discussed about Misa's style could be applied to Mello, the only other character who visually demonstrates any religious tendency. However, I think there are some differences here that could suggest Mello is actually religious, which then allows us to consider his character in the context of the Canon Explanation. Firstly, one of the main signifiers Mello wears is his rosary, and while it is unlikely you will experience any adverse effects from wearing one as a non believer, I think those who wear a rosary are aware of the deeper connection to Catholicism than someone who wears a simple cross necklace (see Misa above, right). Secondly, narratively, I think there is more opportunity for Mello to be religious. Wammy's House, from their gates, actually appears to be a Christian organisation, and while I do not actually believe that they were, I find it interesting nonetheless. I also would be surprised if they were denominationally Catholic, if we are following this line of logic, presumably they would be CofE, but who knows. Regardless, even if Mello was not religious as a child, I think his arrival into the Mafia would certainly have introduced him to Catholicism. Of course it seems antithetical, but I would not be all that surprised if a teenage boy who is expected to do some horrendous things to rise to the top of a criminal organisation might turn to God in the process.

Following on from the prior point, Mello is a completely contradictory character, so I do not think it is all that necessary to consider his moral code from an entirely rational perspective. I think the fact his Beretta has a small cross charm on it in itself is very symbolic of the kind of character we are dealing with here (see below). Interestingly, it looks to be a Celtic cross, rather than a traditional crucifix.

What does this actually mean? Mello represents a good integration of the two religious influences I've discussed – he appears to have faith in a religion that we as readers contextually understand, and yet he interacts easily with Shinigami and the Death Note. While the two do not contradict one another exactly, I think The Canon Explanation certainly does not lend much credence to Catholic interpretations within the text. Like the others who have encountered a Death Note, Mello is initially shocked by the arrival of the Shinigami attached to his notebook, but quickly recovers. He interrogates Sidoh with such evident effectiveness that he ends up frightening him.

I think this is where I begin to get a little frustrated with the depiction of religion in Death Note because we have such a fascinating premise here. Does Mello's faith waver as his beliefs are evidently challenged by Sidoh? Does he consider Kira as a force of evil from a moral perspective informed by Wammy's, or his understanding of God? Does he believe in heaven and hell? None of these questions are answered, and I do appreciate I am being fussy because I am very fond of Mello, but I think there was a rather unique opportunity present in the series that was completely neglected. I have already explained how Death Note relies so heavily on Catholic imagery and clearly wishes to present itself as a series that deals with religious themes, so I think there is a failure here to consider the nuances that have already been set up.

How interesting do you suppose it would be to see how Kira's influence begins to impact the other established religions, as people see criminals dying en masse? Remember that ordinary people would be likely predisposed to consider this as an act of God. Society would certainly be more scared, especially as it would simply be inevitable that Kira killed innocent people who had been deemed criminals by their legal systems. There is a lot to go analyse about that topic alone, but another time!

I suppose with a lot of the questions I have posed, they could be answered through fanfiction or headcanons. I could decide that Misa believed in God until she met Light, or that Mello chose to ignore the implications of Mu given that he follows a religion that sets itself up on the premise of eternal reward or damnation. I just want to facilitate further conversation, because I do think this topic is fascinating.

Thank you @saturniiids, @vengeflies and @stylooooo for giving this a read for me! ♡

[lu-is-not-ok]

Any particular thoughts on Fanghunt Hong Lu?

Yes, one very specific thought in fact.

Fanghunt Hong Lu is the most violent Hong Lu ID we have had thus far, being one that not only revels in violence like Tingtang Hong Lu or Hook Hong Lu, but also one that is actively shown torturing his victims in some genuinely stomach churning ways.

He is also the one Hong Lu ID which, while mentioning his Family, is one that doubts the very nature of what a family even is the most clearly.

This, to me, highlights a very noticeable pattern among Hong Lu's IDs.

When a Hong Lu ID is shown to be actively under his Family's control, he's either completely uninterested in violence (such as Liu) or so bored with the role he's forced into that violence is the only way he's able to push back against that boredom (K Corp and W Corp).

On the other hand, a Hong Lu ID that seems to be heavily disconnected from his Family is often one that is actively enjoying the violence he inflicts and is notably kind of fucking unhinged (Tingtang and Hook).

Fanghunt Hong Lu adds another nuance to that spectrum, being an ID that still has contact with his Family, but one who isn't specifically in a position chosen by them and who is led to doubting what a family even is by his experiences.

He shows us a possible outcome of a Hong Lu who has to actually reckon with reality and doubt what he knows about his circumstances, and the results are not pretty. After all, like I said earlier, Fanghunt Hong Lu is the most violent and most hate-filled Hong Lu we've seen up to now. He pulls out a guy's fucking teeth one by one for fuck's sake.

...And this made me think a bit. We actually have quite a few Hong Lu IDs with a Wrath Sin Affinity by now. However, Fanghunt Hong Lu is only the second we have with a Wrath Skill 3. The other one being, of course, Liu Hong Lu.

Both Hong Lu IDs with a Wrath Skill 3 seem to be to some extent aware of something being wrong regarding their Family, in very different ways that lead them into reacting to it very differently.

Liu Hong Lu seems to be aware of the fact he has no real control over what happens when he's under his Family's watchful eye, leading him into being the least violent Hong Lu of them all. He's aware of what his Family is doing to him, but he's unaware of it being abnormal.

On the other hand, Fanghunt Hong Lu seems to be unaware of the specific horrors of his Family. Rather, he's become aware that Family itself is a concept that he can't quite understand. He's seen Bloodfiends who abandon their previous families to be with their new Bloodfiend families, and it's a point of focus for him. What even is a real family?

...This, I think, is where Liu and Fanghunt Hong Lu differ the most. Liu Hong Lu knows he's being hurt, but he doesn't see any way out, that it's just how things are supposed to be, so he simply tries to live through it.

Meanwhile, though Fanghunt Hong Lu doesn't have that piece of the puzzle, he does have a different one - the seed of an idea that he could escape. Proof that one's "Real" Family doesn't have to remain their only family. He just doesn't yet realize what he'd want to escape from, so he channels the feelings he's experiencing because of that information against the immediate source of it. Instead of using that idea to free himself, he directs his anger towards those that actually tried it and succeeded.

I don't mean to keep pushing my "Hong Lu will go apeshit in Canto 8" idea, but like... The more info we get about him, the more likely that possibility becomes. After all, Fanghunt Hong Lu is a clear example of the fact that a Hong Lu aware of an escape route from one's Family could become extremely violent. That added onto the potential of Lorenzo's story told by the Priest being a parallel to Hong Lu, and the fact that the Sapling of Light Hong Lu is likely going to parallel is Chesed... It's all a lot.

[shinymoo15]

🤪 Crack headcanon/theory 🤪

Pure Vanilla cookie is related with Burning Spice Cookie.

Since there are people who headcanon Capsaicin as being related with Burning Spice, so why don't i bring out this one?

By the way, i did not mean the relation has to be 100% biological, he can be from a spice tribe with same name and ancestry, i mean i wish it is, but considering the time gap between the beasts and ancients it's probably not possible for PV to born that early either from the wild spice or straight up baked by BS himself unless he's born far later just before BS went 'rampaging' or cryogenic-ing baby PV. And it seems like PV is already baked as a kid so the theory is gonna be debunked, the headcanon stays though teehee ...

Anyway, vanilla is a spice, the second most expensive spice after saffron (there's Saffron Buffalo Cookie). Because those two spices i just mentioned literally has a sweet/floral flavor profile, thus this is a reminder that spice does not always equal to pungent/pepper hot flavor.

I also wanted to point out how strange that the Vanilla Kingdom's natives is filled with residents that were mostly named after types of creams, custards, cakes, desserts, and also raisins, i can extend this with the Creme Republican who has Vanillian ancestry as well. And out of all of these two places, the only cookies that canonically has vanilla in their name is Pure Vanilla and Vanilla Sugar, literally just TWO, out of possibly hundreds or thousands non-vanilla name vanillians.

barring White Lily (kingdomless), the MAJORITY of residents living in the other ancients' kingdoms are clearly following the specific name/theme their ruler has, Dark Cacao has chocolate, Golden Cheese has cheese, Hollyberry has berries. But PV? Vanilla ain't a cream nor a custard, nor cake, nor waffle, or any sort of dessert in general. He is a spice. And THAT is strange to me. But of course, I think devsis do that just because there's nothing else to name after vanilla, french vanilla is a thing, but that is probably sounds weird to use.

I can literally go wild too with the background lore since the beasts' lore are still on the shallow water, it's probably going to be explored more in the future. Imagine.

Burning Spice's first kingdom's fell but he doesn't give up, he built another, but it fell again, in a cycle for thousands of years, no matter if he's there or not, it always fell with no fail. He used to wail, then cry, but slowly shutting himself up since sadness won't rebuild a civilization. He tried not to get attached to the civilization that he nurtured, but he still does, he managed to has a single hope, a single hope that grabbed the last thread of his sanity from snapping. He built a kingdom, this time, he thought of silently baking a life of his own, resulting with a baby cookie, no name given yet. Thinking, maybe, even if he lose everything again, at least, he won't lose the baby since they're embraced by him alone. He would still be sane. But, no. The baby, nameless, is gone, along with his kingdom, his people. He stared at the empty blanket, not even a single crumb seen. someone possibly kidnapped/killed the baby far away? Who knows? A random cookie, or a witch who happened to found out about what he did. A punishment? Maybe. The last thread snapped into strands.

He then build a new kingdom, coping by saying that he was bored. accepted that this one will be done for. The strands, snapping one by one. Finally, a single strand pulled far back, his boredom is no more. He destroys everything. He doesn't want to think of the past. But he still does.

The nameless baby, was brought either by a cookie/witch to Crispia, then left all alone to fend does things all by himself. Slowly growing to become the PV everybody knows. And someday, they'll meet again, properly this time.

HAHAHAHAHA!11!1!1!

Leaving this account again to dust for another years, bye lmaooo 🔥

[blues-valentine]

Now here’s my TSITP take that no one asked for but I finally caught up to it out of boredom and while I am not invested in any pairing and couldn’t care less about the endgame, there’s some things I’ve seen (particularly in this site) and surely I’m not the only one with this opinion because Jeremiah being considered a healthier or better alternative for Belly is legit so wrong.

I can understand why some people would prefer Jeremiah because on the outside he looks like someone that could make Belly happier since he isn’t “complicated” but him being painted as the healthier alternative to Conrad is like, wrong, Jeremiah has alarming red flags that are often ignored by his supposedly “golden retriever” persona and that’s often way more damaging long term.

The constant anger and resentment issues that results of him feeling inferior to Conrad, often seeing their entire dynamic like a competition that extends to Belly, that has been clear by his actions and narrative. I’m shocked people on this fandom pretend this isn’t a clear narrative choice. He often speaks about how Conrad is perceived as the smart one, the athletic one, the responsable one, and in general the favorite child. Of course, he gets annoyed that Belly might be into him too. It’s always been more about Conrad than it is about Belly. He projects a lot of the insecurities he feels towards Conrad on Belly. He constantly feels the need to remind her “he is the better option” out of not reason and it feels like he is looking for the moment Conrad fails or mess up as if he is counting the scores. Him only making a definitive move on Belly after he sees Belly and Conrad almost kissing — and then he fires a rocket to stop them. I see this being a whole comedic discourse but that’s a major red flag. He cannot possibly have a healthy relationship with her if he feels like he constantly needs to measure up to Conrad. After that 4th of July episode, it’s very easy to see him trying to manipulate and sabotage Conrad with Belly and purposefully make him run late. And he does so intentionally. He knows he is being sneaky. He knows he is inserting himself in there. And I’m not saying he doesn’t like Belly, he does, but why denying that his main motivator isn’t his own bother.

Now, I’m not saying Conrad isn’t also annoying. He was written as the early 00’s broody type of bad boy and I feel the series it’s trying to fix it by showing more of him but it lacks in writing. I feel he needed more polishing to take him out of the archetype. However, Conrad’s approach narratively makes sense. It’s not like he’s being that just by pure aesthetic. Jeremiah thought out Season 1 is living a complete different reality as Conrad. So, of course he feels more laidback and funny. He doesn’t know his mom is dying. He doesn’t know his dad cheated on his mother. Only Conrad knows that. Of course, it would affect his behavior to the point he is emotionally detached. Even the narrative itself tells you Conrad usually isn’t this emotionally constipated or disengaging, and that smoking is also a new behavior. The constant need to make him feel like a villain is so weird because he is clearly depressed and self isolating. Both in Season 1 and throughout Season 2. It’s called grieving the death of your mother. All of them have their own ways of dealing with their grief.

And the funny this is — Conrad knows he isn’t in the right mental state to be with Belly right now. He tries, cause you’re allowed to be happy while depressed but he clearly wasn’t able to handle the grieving process, so he puts Belly’s happiness (or what he thinks she needs) over his own cause he doesn’t think he can provide her with what she needs at the moment (and he is right about that!). He isn’t problematic. I am confused about this. Particularly because while I think he could be clearer with Belly, most of it it’s not his fault entirely. And I’ve been told that by the end of the series, Conrad isn’t the same person he was at the start. He is a mature and emotionally open young man with a medical career that he loves that has learned to deal with grief. And those are very qualities you already see on the show.

Mind you, Jeremiah’s anger and resentment towards Conrad is totally valid and I feel is more on Susannah’s and his dad upbringing that just created that animosity but isn’t it the reason why people perceive Jeremiah as a ”healthier” alternative more to do with the fact his “red flags” aren’t as visible and Conrad’s grieving process is not that “palatable” to audiences?

And the love triangle isn’t even about who is better for Belly — this is a journey about grief that frankly should’ve been the core of the story. The way I see it, Conrad’s grieving process is self isolation. Jeremiah’s grieving process is anger. And Belly’s grieving process is denial. And the majority of the time Belly is reading Conrad’s feelings as him not being as into her as she is — which is untrue. Conrad’s problem is not knowing how to communicate those emotions to her. And Belly’s swimming in insecurities that she projects on Conrad. And she’s also a people pleaser and that has been very obvious on her coddling of Jeremiah. At the end of the day, I will always root for the female character getting the one she truly loves and that clearly isn’t Jeremiah. He isn’t the love of her life and this isn’t some story about second love. It’s about two people not being ready to be together for specific circumstances. Jeremiah is the one that was going to lose here. He inserted himself into this mess. He knows Belly and Conrad will always exist in some capacity that he’ll never be able to measure. He knows his brother loves her. And he knows Belly’s lying to herself about Conrad. So, why is he continuing a game that he knows he’s bound to lose? I genuinely believe that he knows how it will end so it’s going to be hard for me to feel bad for him when the inevitable thing happens.

And I’m also over the whole “Conrad was away while Jeremiah took care of their dying mother!” because that’s not an objective take. Conrad was at university studying to become a doctor. He should not be fault for trying to seek some normalcy after keeping most of the secret himself for months. Jeremiah wasn’t handling those bills himself. Laurel was also legit there the entire time. And I’m sure they also hired a caregiver. Instead of putting the blame and responsibility on teenagers — you should be wondering where was their own father, because divorce isn’t an excuse to not take care of your kids. And the show would benefit from making them build a better relationship as brothers than focusing on a “love triangle” that has a very definitive endgame, hence isn’t surprising.

[rainbow-journalist]

I clearly did this out of boredom, and decided to do some doodling and drawing of it. ☔

Tw: blood ☔🔎🩸⚠️

The context is simple: I was watching an edition with sinister music, and I decided to do it with Yuma too, so I was also curious about how he would look with his eyes black like that, and here is the result.

The edit was made months ago on Discord, and the drawing and doodles were made recently. I was thinking about Yuma getting mentally destroyed or being possessed by some shadow. It happened that in Discord something happened where someone close to him died and he became mentally unstable and in a vegetative state for more than 2 months. (I'm a monster), I explained more here, it was a good role-playing, although I felt sorry for Yuma, seeing him cry is sad. ;-;

Seeing a character with black eyes like this is usually used in horror scenes. They say the eyes are the window to the soul, so if Yuma were possessed, the first thing you would notice different is his eyes. If he were to lose his soul, he would probably turn into a doll. I was also trying to watch the Anime: "Higurashi no Naku Koro" , and I couldn't understand almost anything.

There's the edition, it's crap, I know, I did it last year, I just showed it to my friends on Discord when we were talking about Yuma being in a broken state of mind. He clearly doesn't look well here and needs some therapy. This is the level of suffering I give him, I'm sorry Yuma. DX

I love my favorite characters and my OCs, but it's fun to torture them this way, Either he suffers mentally or he dies in some game or horror movie that I've seen in my life, I've seen you guys saying that he wouldn't survive anything without Shinigami. I really don't know if I'll be able to do some cool birthday drawing for him next month, I can't promise. Maybe the most I can do is like and reblog your guys work, and like on Twitter/X.

I also don't make many editing videos because they are bad and I'm embarrassed to post them, you probably wouldn't like it and find it cringe. 😅

[punkpandapatrixk]

Full Harvest Moon in Aries ♦︎ Moon Magick Pick A Card

In my experience, Full Harvest Moon is always significant for those who are more spiritually attuned. This period allows—almost forces, actually—us to die to the previous cycle of our lives much like the trees shedding their leaves. This is a period of slowing down; of calm but maybe also a little bit of depression; of sweeping changes and moving places; of pausing and recalibration; which could cause a sickening sense of losing control of our lives, though in reality, we’re just being prepared for a massive transformation.

If anything, all these changes are the perfect answers to all you’ve prayed for! It’s harvest time for a lot of us! Some of us are having a mini harvest but those are results nevertheless. You’ve done marvellously well to be here right now. And haven’t you grown so much? I’m grateful you’ve made it this far.

Speak into existence your higher intent this Harvest Moon. Be at peace knowing that whatever transpires, everything works out in your favour. Your manifestations are protected, more than you may realise. Work on beautifying all elements of your Life, taking care of all aspects of your physical and spiritual health, and most of all, enjoy Life. All the changes you’ve managed to manifest thus far. There’s plenty more coming but you can’t compete with Destiny, yeah?

All in Divine Timing~🌕Congratulations and happy harvest~🌾

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☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 1 – Returning to the Essentials

intent – Ace of Pentacles

You’ve made it exceedingly clear to the Universe that you want a higher sense of stability in your Life. You might’ve come from a background of poverty mindset or that your environment was brimming with individuals operating on lack mindset. A lot of the people you used to surround yourself with were literal peasants in that they’re always hungry for something more… but won’t work on themselves to become a vibrational match to those higher desires. So, essentially, beggars. Beggars for love, for money, attention, recognition, status, you name it.

There’s nothing wrong with wanting those seemingly unspiritual things, what is a problem is the sense of underserving of those things that people won’t even make the first step towards planting those seeds of manifestation for their own personal fulfilment. Such people only end up with rotten envy, jealousy, spite, bitterness, and even resentment. You saw all of that. Swam in an ocean of such mindsets and tendencies. You finally woke up and said, ‘I want none of that nonsense anymore. None of it is natural. I want out!’

sow – 4 of Cups

So, you ejected yourself from those situations and possibly burnt some bridges. It was better to be alone and work on the essentials. You get to know yourself better that way, all strengths and weaknesses, all opportunities and challenges. You’ve enjoyed learning and studying things that inspire you to continue to build a sparkly Life, right? You’ve worked plenty hard on your own fixing your internal compass, haven’t you? None of that will ever go to waste. You were creating vibrational pathways towards your Highest Possible Intended Destiny. It’s time to begin anew with your visions. Your plans are taking shape. You can see clearly where to step in your next chapter of hustle.

I guess, you’re still feeling like you’re not quite there yet. Or that it feels like your desired reality is taking its sweet time. I guess you could be struggling with dissatisfaction every now and then. Or that certain days you can’t believe the insane level of boredom that suddenly strikes. Sometimes you wonder if there’s any meaning to all this internal hustle you’ve been doing. But there totally is and the fact of the matter is that you’re building strength and momentum at the present moment. I suspect very strongly you’re going to be insanely busy in the next cycle of your Life. Cherish this period. It probably will never come again and soon enough this chapter is only gonna remain a memory you recount sometimes as part of your Life’s Story.

reap – 4 of Wands

And finally, I’m sure you’re already feeling this without anyone else telling you: you’re returning to the essentials. You’ve rediscovered the essence of your being. The styles that suit you. Pursuits that delight you genuinely. These are the few things that truly matter to you and that’s all you want to spend energy on. If in the past you were frantically chasing a few forms of aesthetics or had a number of dreams to pursue, you’ve narrowed everything down to only the essentials—the ones that truly make you feel excited, alive.

Although it feels like returning to your inner child essence, at the same time, you’re not the old you. You’re completely brand new. You’re like a transcendent version of your truer self in the past. It feels strangely nostalgic but also novel. Like you’re holding this inexplicable paradox inside of you. But the truth is, you’ve simply transcended above the duality of light and dark, good and bad. You’re now living in the non-dualistic 5D version of this Earth Matrix. Congrats! You’ve truly awakened! Welcome to 5D Earth, Master Manifestor~!

full moon self-care🔻🌒🌓🌔🌕🌖🌗🌘

Access full reading + cards on Patreon🌸

☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・. ☆♪°・.

Pile 2 – Your Heart Has the Best Compass

intent – VII The Chariot

First of all, you’re an incredibly intuitive person and to a large extent, I think you’re psychic. You could have one or two of the clairs. Clairvoyance, clairaudience, clairsentience, claircognisance. You are often guided by your intuition to make changes or attempts that may not always look sensible or responsible by other people. But you seem to have disregarded all of other’s expectations or advice. You believed in yourself and decided to pursue something dearly important to your heart. In a manner of speaking, you were following the path of your Destiny, so congrats! You made the right decision. From here on you can only get stronger.

In your physical Reality, I see you experiencing bounds and leaps of good fortune! You don’t need a shooting star to help make your dreams come true now, you are the Star itself. You make what you want come to Light. It’s possible you’re gonna see people in your Reality being more polite, helpful, cuter, kinder, and generally more pleasant. You’d be like, ‘Did I just jump timelines? Is this still the same Earth I’m used to?!’ Well, you quantum jumped into a higher dimension of Reality and you should be proud of all the inner work you’ve done to be in alignment with these higher frequencies!

sow – Knight of Cups

So, this is another water/emotion energy. The Knight here is simply saying you’re ready to take your Life to the next level of happiness—a spiritual variety of contentment whilst living on Earth. I think you want Love? XD You’re beginning to really want what people call ‘5D relationships’. You want to meet your Soul Mates, your Destined Person, your Soul Tribe. You want Love in a peaceful, exciting, creative world. And you’re going to ‘work’ on that. You’ve decided to never let anyone disrespect you for all the weirdness you have to show them. Unapologetic for days. You ain’t afraid to be seen as a bitch, or a weirdo, an alien, or even a villain.

Nevertheless, all that is just the outer package of your person, which is needed to navigate some hardships in Life when they arise. On the inside, you’ve truly become soft, peaceful, content, and I think you’re pretty much happy with where you are in Life now. Out of all the Piles, yours feels most like you’re truly starting something new that you’re passionate about. There’s something you’ve been meaning to do/create/launch which is only needing the right Divine Timing. Once you hit the bell, there’s no snooze button—you’re going on a ride! Life is gonna get super exciting, so stay on your lane because you’re totally on the right path towards changing your Life!

reap – 3 of Pentacles Rx

When your Life finally takes that amazing turn, you’re going to be spoiled by the Universe with a lot of happiness. I’m seeing SO much abundance beyond material means. You’re going to be SO beautiful. I’m seeing a crazy glow up one way or another. Perhaps because now you have access to those things that can support a glow up. New wardrobe. New teeth. New face for some… New country. New house. New everything and you look gorgeous! That said, there are family members or childhood friends who are totally NOT gonna understand your transformation. Yeah… let peasant be peasants if you ask me.

There are those of you who will want to provide for your family/friends with your newfound wealth and if they’re deserving of that, why not? Just please don’t do any of that with the desire to get their approval, and this is especially the case if your family/friends are incredibly toxic. Live for yourself, babe. Share only with those who are deserving. Only you can decide this but ultimately, respect yourself enough to never beg the acknowledgement of those who are already committed to seeing you in a negative light. Never let ANYBODY reduce your accomplishments, transformations, your Light. Never let anybody poop on your parade XD

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Pile 3 – Hand of Fucking Midas

intent – Page of Wands

Okay, in spite of the title, of all the Piles, your energy has a sage vibe to it. I feel like you’ve transformed into a spiritual master of sort. You got away from the Matrix’s rat race. All the riches you used to think you should have in order to feel like you belonged in society have gone out the window. There are so many material things you do not care about anymore. You’ve rediscovered your essence as a spiritual being having a Human experience. It’s all just a Game and you’re going to have the best-value experience whilst being here. You’ve cultivated a mindset of beauty. ‘Nothing is worthwhile if it’s not beautiful.’

You only want to float beautifully until the day you die. The paradox of your existence is that now that you don’t desire anything desperately anymore, everything comes to you ever so effortlessly. Perhaps it really is because you don’t care if it comes to you or not. It’s exactly because you’re free from worries and anxieties that your positive vibrations effortlessly call forth those positive expectations into your energetic field, and surely enough, they manifest in the physical whether or not you really want them. Paradox. Paradox.

sow – 5 of Pentacles

Reiterating the previous message, here is you sowing seeds of nothingness in this world. From nothingness comes everything. If you don’t limit yourself, anything, literally everything, is possible to create. You’ve tapped into the VOID and understood the secret of Co-Creation. Might it be that you’ve had a really strange, esoteric dream recently? I think you could’ve been activated in your sleep. I feel more strongly that this whole developing a Midas Touch was brought about after transmuting a fuckload of personal traumas you’ve accumulated in this incarnation.

You’ve been through all the sides of sorrow and happiness that now you’re clearer as to what kinds of things are truly meaningful for a Human existence. Now you only want the essentials, and those things you consider essentials are concepts still too difficult too grasp for most Humans. Though you do not carry the essence of being Human, you more than them understand what being Human should be all about. It’s insane. It’s all paradoxical. But you’re here on a mission to beautify this realm. To help Mankind elevate themselves above the status of being miserable slaves—slaves often to their own toxic desires. You’ve transcended all of that via your own suffering.

reap – 9 of Pentacles

From here on, there is no more lack. Because you don’t want much anymore. You’ve let go of all the tight grips on the illusions and temptations of the Matrix. Your wants are now purer, kinder, fairer. I feel you want everybody to have also the things that you take for granted. You want everybody to share in the bounty of the natural world easily. ‘There are things in this world that are NOT supposed to be expensive.’ You want everybody to have access to basic needs at a decent level/quality without having to pay for a premium.

All of that said, I think in the future you’re soon going to have your own business that helps improve the lives of your community instead of ruining the ecosystem and making it hard for everybody. If not a business, you could be involved in some sort of invention or revolution that could, well, revolutionise the way many people live, work or approach businesses on their own terms. I think this Pile has the potential to change the world for the better. You may not care that much about such wild dreams for now, for you are currently peacefully enjoying some fruits of your intense spiritual labour thus far.

But it’s coming, baby~ Your train to awesome is coming to pick you up. Just chill~ When Divine Timing strikes, your body is gonna move on its own😉

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