#E Ink Displays

[ajaydmr]

Global Electronic Shelf Labels Market | Insights: Trends, Innovation Future Projections Rising Growth Business Analysis And 2024 Forecast

Global Electronic Shelf Labels Market: Trends, Insights, and Forecasts

The retail industry is undergoing significant transformation, and one of the leading advancements enhancing operational efficiency and customer experience is the Electronic Shelf Label (ESL) technology. As a result of rising consumer expectations, technological innovations, and the shift toward automated retail, ESLs have become an integral part of modern retail operations. The Global Electronic Shelf Labels Market is on an impressive growth trajectory, driven by increased demand for automation, improved pricing accuracy, and enhanced customer experience.

In this article, we will explore the current state of the Global Electronic Shelf Labels Market, emerging trends, key growth drivers, regional analysis, and the future of this market. We will also answer some frequently asked questions and provide valuable insights for businesses and stakeholders looking to invest in this evolving technology.

Market Overview

The Global Electronic Shelf Labels Market is poised to grow significantly in the coming years. By 2025, the market is expected to reach USD 2.6 billion, growing at a compound annual growth rate (CAGR) of 12.8% from there until 2034. By the end of this forecast period, the market is projected to achieve a value of USD 7.8 billion.

This growth is being driven by several key factors, including technological advancements, the increasing need for retail automation, and the rising demand for seamless customer experiences. ESLs are a part of the broader trend toward the digitalization of retail environments. They provide real-time pricing, stock updates, and other important product information, making it easier for retailers to manage inventory and improve operational efficiency.

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Key Factors Driving Market Growth

1. Technological Advancements

Advancements in electronic ink (e-ink) technology and the development of more energy-efficient displays have played a significant role in the expansion of the ESL market. These innovations allow for longer battery life, improved visibility, and more versatile label designs. Furthermore, the integration of Internet of Things (IoT) capabilities into ESLs has enabled retailers to remotely update product prices and information, reducing manual efforts and minimizing errors.

2. Cost Efficiency and Operational Benefits

ESLs help retailers reduce operational costs by automating many time-consuming tasks, such as price updating and inventory management. Traditional paper labels require constant manual adjustments, which can be inefficient and prone to error. ESLs, on the other hand, allow for real-time updates, providing retailers with greater flexibility and accuracy in managing product information.

3. Improved Customer Experience

Customers increasingly expect faster, more personalized shopping experiences. ESLs improve this experience by offering dynamic pricing, instant product information, and up-to-date stock levels. By providing better visibility into pricing and product details, ESLs help increase consumer trust and satisfaction, making them a valuable tool for enhancing the overall shopping experience.

4. Growing Adoption of Self-Checkout Kiosks

The adoption of self-checkout kiosks, particularly in grocery stores and supermarkets, is a significant driver of ESL market growth. ESLs streamline the checkout process by providing accurate pricing and product details. This, in turn, enhances the efficiency of automated checkout systems, which are becoming increasingly popular with consumers.

5. Sustainability Concerns

As environmental concerns grow, many retailers are turning to ESLs as a more sustainable option than traditional paper labels. ESLs reduce paper waste, making them an environmentally friendly alternative for businesses aiming to improve their sustainability credentials.

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Regional Analysis: Europe Leads the Way

In terms of regional growth, Europe is expected to dominate the ESL market, accounting for more than 38% of global sales by 2025. This can be attributed to the region’s highly competitive retail sector, where businesses are constantly seeking innovative ways to enhance customer experiences and streamline operations.

Why Europe?

North America and Asia-Pacific

While Europe is expected to lead, North America and the Asia-Pacific regions are also witnessing substantial growth in the adoption of ESL technology. In North America, the U.S. is a key market for ESLs, driven by advancements in retail automation and the rising demand for smart technology solutions. In the Asia-Pacific region, rapid urbanization and retail development in countries like China, India, and Japan are contributing to the growth of the ESL market.

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Market Segmentation

The Global Electronic Shelf Labels Market can be segmented based on the following criteria:

By Technology

By Application

By Display Type

Key Players in the Market

Several key players dominate the Global Electronic Shelf Labels Market, offering innovative solutions to help retailers improve efficiency and enhance the customer experience. Some notable companies include:

These companies are focusing on technological innovation and expanding their market presence through strategic partnerships, acquisitions, and product development.

Frequently Asked Questions (FAQs)

1. What are Electronic Shelf Labels (ESLs)?

Electronic Shelf Labels are digital displays used by retailers to display product information, such as prices, barcodes, and product details. They replace traditional paper tags and can be updated remotely to ensure real-time accuracy.

2. What is driving the growth of the ESL market?

Technological advancements, the growing need for retail automation, cost efficiency, and enhanced customer experience are the primary factors driving the growth of the ESL market.

3. Which region leads the Global ESL Market?

Europe is expected to hold the largest share of the ESL market by 2025, driven by its competitive retail sector and the increasing adoption of self-checkout kiosks.

4. What industries benefit most from ESL technology?

Retail, warehouse management, and healthcare are the primary industries benefiting from ESL technology, with retail being the largest adopter.

5. How does ESL improve customer experience?

ESLs improve customer experience by offering accurate, real-time pricing, product information, and availability, making it easier for customers to make informed purchasing decisions.

Conclusion

The Global Electronic Shelf Labels Market is set for significant growth, driven by technological advancements, the increasing need for operational efficiency, and the desire to enhance customer experience in the retail sector. Europe is expected to be the largest market for ESLs, but other regions, including North America and Asia-Pacific, are also experiencing rapid growth.

As retailers continue to embrace automation and digital solutions, ESLs will play an increasingly important role in streamlining operations, improving pricing accuracy, and delivering superior customer experiences. As the market continues to evolve, businesses looking to stay competitive will need to consider incorporating ESL technology into their operations.

In summary, the global ESL market presents immense opportunities, with businesses increasingly adopting this technology to improve operational efficiency, customer satisfaction, and sustainability. As technological innovation continues, ESLs are expected to evolve further, expanding their use cases and solidifying their position as an essential tool in the modern retail landscape.

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[umm-whats-going-on]

There's something so beautiful about single purpose technology.

Like yes this device only is for reading books, and it does it's job so well, better than a phone even.

Devices that can only type 3 sentences at a time, can only do so little you do so much you're so much better than general purpose devices I love you.

[bowlofmie]

i luv e ink. so yummy. mm paper. i want more e ink in the world. digital squid ink. so laggy but so beautiful. untouched by Sun.

[confines]

normalise specifying which book in the series you're reading in its file name, on the cover, in one of the pages before the book starts, anywhere.

[techdriveplay]

The Best E-Readers for Book Lovers

In a world where digital technology continues to reshape our daily lives, avid readers are not left behind. The convenience and accessibility of e-readers have revolutionized the way we consume literature. For those passionate about books, the best e-readers for book lovers offer a blend of practicality, functionality, and a superior reading experience. Whether you’re a traditionalist who loves…

[yuvaana-123]

Exploring the Fascinating World of E Ink Displays for Arduino: Wireless and More

Introduction

In the rapidly evolving landscape of technology, electronic ink displays, also known as e ink screens, have gained significant popularity for their versatility and power-efficient characteristics. These displays offer a unique advantage over traditional LCDs and OLED screens due to their ability to mimic the appearance of real paper, providing exceptional readability in various lighting conditions while consuming minimal energy. In this blog, we'll delve into the wonders of E Ink displays, with a particular focus on E Ink wireless displays suitable for use with Arduino.

What are Electronic Ink Display? Electronic Ink Displays, or e ink displays, employ electrophoretic technology to display content. The fundamental principle involves tiny microcapsules filled with positively charged white particles and negatively charged black particles suspended in a clear fluid. When an electric field is applied, these particles move to the surface of the display, creating text and images visible to the user. Unlike traditional screens, e ink displays don't emit light directly, relying on external light sources, just like printed paper.

The Advantages of E Ink Display E Ink displays offer several compelling advantages that have made them popular across various industries:

a. Energy Efficiency: E ink displays are renowned for their energy efficiency, consuming power only when the content on the screen changes. Once an image is displayed, no additional power is required, making them ideal for battery-powered devices.

b. Outdoor Readability: With their paper-like appearance and ability to reflect light, E Ink displays deliver excellent outdoor readability, even under direct sunlight, without the glare issues often encountered with traditional LCDs.

c. Wide Viewing Angles: Unlike LCD screens, which can suffer from color and contrast distortion at extreme angles, E Ink displays maintain consistent visibility at almost any viewing angle.

d. Bi-Stable Nature: E Ink displays are bi-stable, meaning they can hold an image without continuous power, further contributing to their energy efficiency and suitability for applications requiring static information display.

E Ink Display for Arduino For electronics enthusiasts and hobbyists, integrating E Ink displays with popular development boards like Arduino can open up a world of possibilities. Thanks to their low power consumption and straightforward interfacing capabilities, E Ink displays offer an exciting platform for various Arduino projects.

a. E Ink Display for Arduino: Numerous E Ink display modules are compatible with Arduino boards, enabling seamless integration for projects like e-readers, weather stations, indoor signage, and more. These modules come in different sizes and resolutions, allowing users to choose the most suitable option based on their requirements.

b. Wireless E Ink Display: Advancements in wireless technologies have paved the way for wireless E Ink displays, eliminating the need for physical connections between the Arduino and the display. With wireless E Ink displays, data can be transmitted remotely, making them ideal for applications where physical connectivity is impractical or inconvenient.

Buying E Ink Display When looking to buy an E Ink display for Arduino projects, several factors should be considered:

a. Compatibility: Ensure that the E Ink display module is compatible with Arduino and that the required libraries and documentation are available for easy integration.

b. Resolution and Size: Choose a display size and resolution that suits your specific project needs and provides optimal readability.

c. Wireless Capability: If wireless functionality is desired, select an E Ink display with built-in wireless communication options, such as Wi-Fi or Bluetooth.

d. Power Requirements: Confirm the power requirements of the E Ink display, ensuring they align with your project's power source capabilities.

Conclusion In conclusion, electronic ink displays, or e ink screens, have revolutionized the way information is presented in various applications. Their low power consumption, outdoor readability, and bi-stable nature make them an attractive option for Arduino projects. With the availability of wireless E Ink displays, the potential for innovative applications has only expanded. Whether you're building an e-reader, a smart label, or a weather station, E Ink displays for Arduino offer a world of opportunities to explore and create.

So, embrace the wonders of E Ink displays and dive into the realm of Arduino projects, where creativity knows no bounds. Happy tinkering and innovating!

[aciddrattboyy]

Tɾαɱρ Sƚαɱρ

┆ꜱʏɴᴏᴘꜱɪꜱ - "various bllk guys and how they would react to you getting a tramp stamp"

ᴍᴏᴠɪᴇ ꜱᴛᴀᴛ��: ★ Starring: Bachira, Kunigami, Nagi, Ryusei [separate] x F! Reader ★ Run Time: 1.2k ★ Genre/Warnings: [Rated R: Adult Film] smut, mirror fucking(bachira), reverse cowgirl, oral(m! receiving) kunigami)), doggy style, i think thats it [all characters are aged up!]

▶▶

bachira

⋆ was v e r y excited when you said you wanted to get one ⋆ actually offered to pay for it AND go with you ⋆ but you declined, knowing he’d try to fuck you in the parking lot as soon as you were done ⋆ now that you had confirmed you were getting one bachira had a bit of a dilemma  ⋆ he loved looking at you while he fucked you senseless ⋆ but now he needed to see your new tattoo while he did just that so ofc a hasty amazon order was made  ⋆ come the day of your appointment, there was now a full length mirror stuck onto the back of your bedroom door waiting for you when you got home

you were a whining, blubbering mess as meguru pounded into you. on all fours, he grabbed you by your hair with one strong hand so you couldnt bury your hair in the sheets. usually he would, usually he was a bit nicer. but he needed you to see, needed you to look at your now fucked out self through the mirror he bought just for this reason. 

“so hot baby- so hot like this,” his pace was brutal as he fought a constant internal war on where to look. if he looked at your new lower back tattoo for too long he’d cum too fast. but being able to see you at a new angle was making it hard to not spill inside of you. his other hand that had a painful hold on your waist snaked down to rub tight circles against your clit. his hips faltered at the sight of your face contorting in pleasure. with a guttural moan leaving his throat, meguru buried himself balls deep in your cunt as he came.

gingerly releasing his hold on your hair, he moved back to your waist. meguru panted softly, eyes unable to leave your lower back. he could feel himself getting hard all over again at the thought of one day being able to spill his cum all over it.

kunigami

⋆ kunigami wouldnt deny that the idea was hot to him ⋆ he was very supportive- excited even ⋆ he both paid + went with you to your appointment  ⋆ was very proud of himself for exercising the utmost restraint when he saw the final product ⋆ not wanting to hurt the already hurt area, he kept the sexual activity to a minimum  ⋆ definitely didnt pass up a chance to playfully slap your ass any time it was visible  ⋆ despite his chivalrous behavior, it was as if his libido went up 1000% knowing the tattoo was there

“oh fuck-,” kunigami’s jaw seemed to be permanently clenched as took more of him in your throat. head resting against the back of the couch as he looked at you with eyes that sent heat straight to your throbbing pussy. his hips involuntarily bucked into your mouth when he caught a glimpse of your back. your tanktop was pushed up from your previous messy makeout session and your lower back tattoo was almost on full display. 

catching where his gaze was now focused on, you arched your back. your shorts rode down just a bit from the change in position but it was enough to send kunigamis head spinning. his grip on your hair tightened as he started fucking your face. the room filled with sounds of you gagging and his moans as he got closer to cuming. “ ‘m close,” he warned, voice strained as he kept staring at the black ink forever etched on your skin. 

this only spurred you on, hollowing your cheeks as best as you could; determined to take him all. and that you did, swallowing the hot cum that spilled down your throat with a pleased smile. your stuck out your tongue, proudly showing him that none went to waste until he pulled you onto his lap. fully intent on fucking you here and now. 

nagi

⋆ he was never big on showing emotions outward ⋆ but when you came home, stripping down in front of him to show off your new tattoo ⋆ you could see something change in his eye ⋆ he never considered any tattoos hot before you just kinda saw them as ink on skin and nothing more ⋆ but now that you had one he was obsessed

nagi was laying on his back, head propped up on multiple pillows as his hands held a vice grip on your waist. 

“sei- ‘s too much,” having already came three times on his mouth, you were a mess. holding onto his thighs tightly as he fucked you down onto him. nagi couldnt even respond, low moans tumbling out of his mouth as he watched your ass meet his pelvis. his eyes were fixated on the tattoo and nothing could pry them away. 

feeling you clench around him from the sensitivity is what sent him over the edge. pulling you off of him with ease and setting you down on his stomach as his came on your stomach and abused cunt. you were panting, eyes fluttering shut when you assumed he was satiated. but you soon learned that you assumed wrong, yelping as he got you on all fours. he leaned over you, pressing a kiss into your shoulder.

“not done”

ryusei

⋆ it was hard for him to keep his dick in his pants around you already ⋆ but your newly added tattoo was making it so much harder ⋆ he thought it was incredibly hot ⋆ a hint of possessiveness when he thought how he’d be the only one to see it in its entirety ⋆ he grew a habit of stretching the waistband of whatever you were wearing to peek at it ⋆ laughing when the fabric snapped back and made you jump  ⋆ he was more touchy than ever and you couldnt bring yourself to hate it one bit

“such a needy little thing,” he had you on your stomach, legs trapped under his as he pushed your head into the covers. the smile on his face was evil and his pace was no better. his free hand was groping your ass, loving how sore they know were from your previous endeavors. he loved how you were trapped under him, only able to whine and beg for more while completely under his will. his fingers lightly traced the now healed tattoo, enjoying how it made you shiver. 

he rutted into you brutally, the sound of his pelvis hitting your ass reverberating through the room as he placed messy open-mouth kisses along your shoulder blades. but he couldnt stay there for long. leaning back, he watched as his dick disappeared inside you. the tattoo was just the icing on the cake. 

you could feel his hips stuttering as he pounded inside you before he quickly pulled out. ryusei desperately humped your ass, head thrown back as he came. you whined, thighs clenching as you felt his cum drip onto your lower back. you only lifted your head when he hurriedly got off of you, watching as he reached for his phone. 

“what a pretty little thing,” he seemed to murmur more to himself than anything as he took pictures of your cum covered tattoo before getting back on top of you. you would be dumb to think ryusei would ever stop after only cumming once.

i hope you enjoyed !! reblogs/comments are very appreciated <3 ʟᴏʙʙʏ ﹕ꜰɪʟᴍᴏɢʀᴀᴘʜʏ 𝄃𝄃𝄂𝄀𝄁𝄃𝄂𝄂𝄃

[nradiowave]

Released my open source weather station firmware, works with E-INK 4.2' \ 1.5' displays; compatible with ESP8266 \ ESP32 Default kitty icon is depends on time \ temperature; Upload custom interfaces is also available via web panel; Optional °F \ °C, English Source code : https://github.com/NC22/Volna42BW Documentation : https://volna42.com

[hoesoflamentation]

╰☆☆ 𝙢𝙮 𝙡𝙤𝙫𝙚 𝙞𝙨 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚, 𝙖𝙡𝙡 𝙢𝙞𝙣𝙚 ☆☆╮ om!levi with tattoos & piercings, reader with a vulva, 18+

// content warning for piercings, penetration, pervy behavior (reader spying on levi naked), fingering, handjob, jealous & possessive sex, (kinda?) soft dom levi

L E V I was good at hiding things. As a shy otaku who spent most of his time alone in his bedroom, he had learned a thing or two about going unnoticed. 

Maybe that’s why it took his brothers almost a full month to notice the lip ring when he first got it. Mammon was the first to pick up on it, followed by Asmo… and of course, after those two knew something, so did everyone else in the House of Lamentation.

But there were still changes that no one else had noticed. No one, that is, except you. You’d had a crush on him for so long now; had been watching him more closely than anyone. So, naturally, you saw things that the others didn’t. 

Like, the way his bangs fell forward when he leaned over his handheld console, revealing a glimpse of a silver eyebrow piercing. Or, the sneak peek of fresh black ink that revealed itself when he forgot to zip up the top inch of his favorite windbreaker.

You wanted to know what other surprises were hiding under his clothes. The thought kept you up at night, desperately pawing at your wet folds, picturing your tongue tangling around secret metal adornments that he kept for your eyes only. 

Of course, Levi could never know that you’d had such lewd fantasies. These thoughts were your private delights, taken out for your viewing pleasure only when you were alone. 

You never expected them to become reality. Yet, here you found yourself, locked in Asmo’s private bathroom with a secret view of Levi’s naked body on full display. 

The night had started as an innocent attempt to take a relaxing bubble bath. You had the fifth-born demon’s full permission to use his powder room whenever you wanted a pick-me-up, and after a stressful day, you could have thought of nothing better than a soak in the tub.

In the privacy of Asmo’s secret oasis, you peeled off all your layers and wrapped yourself in one of his fluffy monogrammed towels. You only realized that you had forgotten to lock the bathroom door when Levi walked in, whistling the tune to his favorite Ruri-chan opener. Too embarrassed to think straight, you did the first thing you thought of: ducked behind a towel rack and pretended you weren’t there. 

Maybe he’ll grab something and leave, you had hoped foolishly. Instead, he did the complete opposite: ran the tub full of water, took off his clothes and prepared to stay awhile. And you, like a filthy pervert, had watched from across the room as he shed every article of clothing, each newly-revealed inch of tattooed skin leasing a gasp from your lips that you desperately fought to quell. 

Levi wasn’t just hiding one or two tattoos from his family, as you might have suspected. No - nearly his entire body was inked from the neck down, patterns of perched mermaids and coiling snakes and crashing waves dancing across his smooth skin. 

You squeezed your eyes (and legs) tightly shut, willing yourself not to imagine tracing every line with your fingers and tongue. But it was already too late: before you could stop yourself, you had already let out a high-pitched whine.

“Aaghh!” Levi startled, frantically wrapping a towel around his waist and adopting an offensive stance. “HALT, NORMIE! Who goes there?!”

Awkwardly, you sidestepped out from your hiding spot and gave a little wave. “Sorry, I didn’t know anyone was in here. I’ll go.”

“N-no! Stay!” he stammered, then flushed. “I mean, y-you don’t have to leave… I’ll go.”

“Are you sure?” Jutting out your lower lip, you shifted your weight from side to side. “I feel bad kicking you out.”

“It’s not kicking me out if you were in here first!” 

Levi’s lean bicep flexed as he bashfully hid his face behind his hand. An anchor tattoo contracted beneath the rippling contours of his ivory flesh. A shiver ran down your spine.

“No, you stay,” you blurted, heat rushing to your cheeks. 

Levi raised his eyebrows in sheepish surprise.

“But you’re-” He struggled to get his words right. “But I’m-”

Unceremoniously, he gestured to his body with a series of flailing limbs. Levi wasn’t graceful, but you got the point: undressing together wasn’t exactly part of your usual hangout routine.

“We’re friends, right?” You shyly averted your gaze. “We can take a bath together. It doesn’t have to be… sexual, or anything.”

Ever the smooth charmer, Levi erupted into a coughing fit at the word ‘sex’ leaving your lips. Between spasms, he managed to choke out a few words: “...i-it doesn’t?”

“Of course not.” You squeezed your legs together even tighter, worried that he would notice the trail of slick running down your inner thighs. 

Anxiously, you started babbling: “Yeah, I do it with Asmo all the time!”

Your hand flew to your lips when you realized what you had done. But by then, it was already too late.

“...oh.”

Before you could explain yourself, a dark shadow crossed Levi’s face. He turned away from you, long, elegant fingers white-knuckling the marble-topped vanity. You could see flames reflected in his ochre eyes, flickering in the bathroom mirror as his tattooed shoulders heaved with the weight of his breath.

His voice was quiet and gravelly as he spoke: “You let Asmo see you… like that? It’s so…  unfair…”

Immobilized, you watched as his demon form took over, branched horns and tentacles sprouting as his forked tongue seductively caressed his lip ring. You hugged the towel you were wearing closer to your chest, suddenly feeling hyper-aware of your hard, sensitive nipples rubbing against the plush pink fabric. 

Levi looked up at you, orange eyes aglow. 

“Why’d you let him see you first?” he whined.

Levi released his grip on the table and slowly approached you. As he walked, his towel slid down the contours of his waist, revealing an indigo trail crowning his v-line. 

Your breath hitched in your throat as he closed the distance between you, with a careless disregard for how little fabric separated your naked bodies. 

“Hah- Levi, what are you doing?” you managed to stammer. 

“It should have been me.” Levi roughly seized your arm, locking his fingers around your wrist like shackles. “I told them you were mine.”

Instinctively, you leaned backwards until you stumbled into the countertop behind you. Obviously, you had seen Levi’s jealousy before, but you had never seen him like this - so forward; so primal. 

“You belong to me, Y/n,” he growled, pressing one arm to the wall above your head, “so don’t forget it!”

You sighed with a full-body shudder, before losing your grip on the towel concealing your most intimate areas. 

“A-ah!” you gasped, starting to reach for the forgotten fabric. “I’m sorry!” 

“No,” Levi insisted. “I mean… let me look at you!”

Hesitantly, you followed directions, allowing your arm to fall limply by your side. His ochre gaze burned your naked skin. Shyly, you looked away, pointlessly crossing your arms over the swell of your breasts. 

“Why are you hiding your body?” Levi frowned. “You don’t hide it from him.” 

“Because-“ You shifted awkwardly from side to side. “I don’t know, it feels different with Asmo.”

…because Asmo was friendly, nonthreatening, nonsexual. Not anything like this. Whatever was going on between you and Levi - this dance of words - the tension in the room was so thick, you could cut it with a knife. 

“I knew it.” Levi jutted out his lower lip. “You like him better than me.”

“That’s not it-” you tried to protest.

But Levi barely seemed to notice. He was swiftly growing drunk on envy. 

If only he could feel what you felt right now; if only he knew that he was the only one in all of heaven, earth, or hell who could make you crave it like this. Maybe then, he would understand that there was nothing for him to be jealous of. 

But until then, Levi was intent on making you understand that there was only one demon who was allowed to have you…

“From now on,” he breathed, tongue lolling lazily out of the side of his mouth as he traced the gentle curve of your waist; the pillowy-soft edge of your breast, “I want to be the only one who gets to see you like this.”

You couldn’t help but moan as Levi’s fingertips finally grazed your swollen bud. The corner of Levi’s lip curled wryly. And, as if obeying his commands, you gushed, leaking lustful juices down your thigh.

Levi played your clit like a new game he was trying to master, his strokes assured yet exploratory… and every time he pressed that button, he drew forth new sounds you hadn’t known you could make, as if unlocking a new series of achievements.

“Look at you.” He dug his fingernails greedily into your flesh. “Still so pretty when you’re making a mess. That’s not fair, either…”

The towel around Levi’s waist loosened and dropped to the floor as you bucked hungrily into his embrace. You felt his hardened shaft spring up between you, long and veiny - and, yes, crowned by a barbell through his frenulum. 

Merely guessing his size left you feeling very nervous, and very empty - and incredibly desperate to feel that piercing bump up against your deepest places.

“I want to touch you back,” you whispered hoarsely, dizzy with lust. “Can I?”

Despite the demonic energy coursing through his veins, Levi blushed as he nodded. Refusing to look you in the eye, he turned away, covering his mouth with the back of his hand, as you wrapped your neatly manicured fingers around his throbbing cock.

“Y-you don’t do this with any of my brothers, do you?” Levi choked out as you massaged precum into his tip, your thumb grazing over his dick piercing. 

You replied by parting his lips with your own, fingers tangling in his rumpled violet locks.

Levi groaned into your open mouth with renewed confidence; his free hand wrapped around the back of your neck, pulling you deeper into the kiss as he plunged two long fingers into your sopping hole. The feeling of his fingers inside you alone was enough to make him moan into your open mouth. 

“F-fuck! Your pussy’s just too good, Y/n. Can’t believe… it’s all for me…”

A filthy squelch echoed through the room as Levi pumped in and out of you. You squeezed your eyes shut, overcome by how unbelievably good he was making you feel. Your nails etched deep scratches down his back, filling the blank spaces between his tattoos with welts of red, as your tongue traced the smooth metal of his lip ring. 

“Levi,” you breathed, “will you please…?”

Understanding your meaning, Levi blushed. “Y-you mean it?”

You pressed a shy kiss to his lips and declared, “I’m all yours.”

Levi wasted no time lifting you onto the countertop, parting your legs, and rubbing his mushroom tip against your slick folds. At first, he carefully aligned himself with your hole, sliding into your depths with gentle precision. 

Then, both of you sighed deeply as Levi allowed himself to bottom out inside of you. He closed his eyes as if relieved; pressed his forehead against yours, a few strands of indigo hair clinging to his face with sweat.  

“Hahh - you feel so good!” Levi huffed, hiding his face in the crook of your neck. “Don’t let anyone else touch you like this, okay? Promise this is just for me.”

“I promise- mm!”

Levi interrupted you by crushing his lips against yours, wrapping his long fingers experimentally around the base of your neck. Arching your hips into the rhythmic glide of his shaft, you wrapped your arms around him and buried your face in his chest, coyly concealing your fucked-out expression as he choked you and railed you. 

As the intensity quickly built up between you, Levi’s thrusts became shallower and more frantic. Your grip on him tightened, and your lips met in a sloppy tangle of tongues. 

“Fuck, shit, fuck-” Levi punctuated each jerk of his hips with a string of barely-coherent words. “That’s it, Y/n, you take it so well…”

The otaku third-born bounced you effortlessly on his cock, easily handling your body like you were nothing more than a toy. 

“Levi, please,” you whined, tears starting to well in your eyes, “I don’t know how much longer I can-”

You moaned mid-sentence as Levi’s piercing bumped up against your cervix, causing your toes to curl. Levi groaned in desperation as he rutted absentmindedly into your opening. 

“Damn it, Y/n, cum for me,” he exhaled into your skin. “Give it all to me, just me… no one else!”

“You too, Levi,” you babbled. “I don’t want to share you with anyone else…”

Bolstered by your reply, Levi started to frantically nip and suck at the delicate skin of your shoulder. Witnessing the trail of delicate purple-red bruises he left behind left you both feeling dizzy and drunk.

“I want to feel you," Levi growled. "P-please, Y/n... will you let me m-make you mine?”

“Levi, I’m -mmfh- I’m already yours!” you gasped, your long nails leaving crescent-shaped imprints in his back. 

That was all Levi needed to hear. He closed his eyes and mewled nonsense into your lips, his cock twitching as it shot spurts of his hot seed deep inside your aching pussy. You reached your peak simultaneously, savoring every second of the sparks shooting up your spine; his pelvis making delicious contact with your greedy clit during every shallow thrust of his hips

Finally, Levi collapsed against your torso, his cock still semi-hard inside of you even as the rest of his body went limp in your arms. Slowly, each of his arms wrapped around you, trapping you in his embrace. 

You stayed like that for a few moments: coated in a sheen of sex and sweat; feeling the rise and fall of your chest synchronizing with his own. However, recognizing the need to clean yourselves up, you moved to stand - only for Levi to squeeze you even tighter, holding you in place, quietly murmuring words you could barely make out:

“You’re mine now…all mine…”

And he wasn’t letting you go anywhere.

a/n: new layout who dis??? anyways, i'm back from hiatus, i think. and i've been consumed by thoughts of levi with a lip piercing ever since i saw this one piece of fanart. so, here we are. next piece of brainrot is for toji (jjk) but i'm considering opening requests, including for lads now that i'm a certified ~convert~ so lmk if that's something you'd be interested in.

[runninriot]

(Un)Used

written for @steddiesmuttyseptember

week 2 prompts: backseat, bruise, soft and slow | rated: E | wc: 2.770 | tags: self-worth issues, eddie is a mess, steve takes care of him, blow job, hand job, anal sex, emotional hurt/comfort, implied strangers to lovers | also on ao3

Eddie's not used to this. Or only part of it.

Because the feeling is oddly familiar and yet, everything about it is different.

It's the harshness that resonates in his body like a well-known song; rough fingers digging deep into tender flesh, nails leaving crescent-shaped dents in burning skin. It's the pressure of a grip so tight it's sure to leave bruises, Eddie recognises like an old friend.

But there’s more. Things he doesn’t know how to name, how to take.

Eddie shivers in violent ecstasy, his movements out of control, nerve endings set ablaze with every touch and every whisper. Every last bit of sanity lost to a sensation that's so new, so wrong, so good, so contrary to everything his body has become accustomed to.

What he knows is the ache, the unnatural twist of his limbs when he's being held down in the backseat of someone's car, fucked mercilessly on the side of the road or at the far end of an empty parking lot in the dark of the night.

What he's used to, is offering his body to nameless faces and hands that take more than he should let them. More than he should be willing to give.

What Eddie thought is the way it always is - the same experience each time, the same self-hatred that holds his soul captive, the same nasty aftertaste of unkind words and bitter relief - suddenly seems to break and crumble under the lightness, the care, the dignity offered to him like a gift he doesn't deserve.

   "So beautiful," the voice above him whispers, sounds like it shares a secret with him about him. Like there’s something in him that’s worth flaunting, spread out on a bed covered in soft sheets, bathed in comforting light, put on display for his admirer to look at. For him to be seen.

It's scary.

And not for the first time tonight, Eddie tries to hide, to cover his eyes with his arm, to turn around and bury his face in the pillow below.

But Steve doesn't let him.

Steve, whose fingers are everywhere, tracing blemished skin that covers the body that houses a broken soul. Unearthing buried fears and insecurities, laying them all out on the surface, marking his findings with kisses like he’s putting his name on each one of them. Not to claim ownership but to make something new, take what’s damaged and give it new purpose, new life.

   “Can’t believe how lucky I am,” the voice whispers sweetly, tickles the sensitive skin on his neck.

   “Steve, please!”

It’s all Eddie can answer, all he can offer, all he can think. Just this one name on repeat, like a prayer, over and over, because there is nothing else left on his mind.

   “I know, baby, I know.”

Steve’s words are supposed to be soothing, the low vibration of his voice should be comforting but how is Eddie supposed to stay calm when Steve’s tongue is circling and licking his cock, teasing his slit, massaging his balls, leaving a trace of trickling spit on its way? Lips moving up and down and around, taking him in and out but never enough, never to finish what he started what feels like hours ago.

Eddie is on edge, has been since the moment Steve carried him here, laid him down on his bed, undressed him in slow motion, one piece at a time until he was left naked from his neck to his toes – no belt buckle left to press into bent thighs, no shirt crumpling up around his chest, just his pure, bare skin, pale and inked. Left with nothing to hide behind, to obscure the vision.

He’s never felt so vulnerable in his life, can’t remember anyone ever looking at him like Steve does. Intense and focused, like he’s trying to memorise every part of him. Smiling, like he enjoys the view, like he likes what he sees.

Steve’s mouth is back on his – when did he stop sucking his cock? Eddie can still feel him down there, the lingering touch of his lips but he can taste himself now on the other man’s tongue when it licks deep inside.

   “Can I fuck you, baby?” Steve asks when they part and Eddie blinks slowly at him.

Why is he asking? Wasn’t this the plan all along? Isn’t it common knowledge that Eddie is easy, always free to be used.

   “Please,” Eddie sighs, or maybe he moans, or maybe he doesn’t say anything at all because Steve is still looking at him with questioning eyes.

   “Fuck me, Steve,” he tries again, more demanding this time, needs to speed this up because-

Because the sooner Steve comes, the sooner Eddie can go home to lick his wounds, allow himself to fall to pieces, maybe cry in the shower, then smoke himself numb. And tomorrow, he can pick up the pieces of a heart torn to shreds.

It’s the same every time and yet, this time, it’s worse.

Because Steve isn’t nameless, Steve isn’t anyone, Steve isn’t anything like those other guys, the ones on the hunt for nothing but a hole to sink in.

Steve kisses him, touches him greedy but gentle – and that makes him so much more dangerous.

Eddie knows selfishness, knows how to make himself small, how to bend into the perfect shape to be used.

What he doesn’t know, is kindness and light-hearted giggles and praise.

This adoration in Steve’s eyes hurts because it creates an illusion of how things could be if someone would care. If someone would want Eddie for more than just a quick, hard fuck.

It’s an illusion he can’t allow himself to let take root in his mind, or worse, in his heart. Can’t allow it to shine light on the darkness inside, make warmth where he’s cold, make soft where he’s turned to stone.

Eddie isn’t destined to be loved. Never has been, never will be.

So with a bit of relief but also a lot of regret, Eddie feels like his breathing finally slows when Steve moves to kneel between his thighs, one hand still connected to his skin while he leans over to grab a condom and lube.

This is the part Eddie knows.

Without thinking, without asking Steve how he wants him, Eddie lifts himself up on trembling arms, moves to turn around. On his hands and knees Eddie finally recognises his own body and it feels like a spell had been lifted from his foggy mind.

With his head bowed down and his back arched, arms bent at the elbows and his legs spread wide, Eddie waits.

And waits.

And-

startles but somehow instantly relaxes when he feels Steve’s warm palms on his shoulders, gliding down his back in slow strokes, resting on his hips where he grips him tight.

Eddie doesn’t know what happens, suddenly finds himself flat on his back again, Steve looming over him, looking down with a mix of confusion and worry that makes Eddie squirm nervously.

   “Nu-uh, baby. Want you to be comfortable. I want to see you. Can’t kiss you when you’re hiding your pretty face.”

Steve words slice through him like a blade, make something hot run through his veins – pain and desire, a mix of vile things and sunshine – knocking all the air out of Eddie’s lungs with a moan so desperate, so needy.

   “Steve, oh God, please just-“

    Take me. Fuck me. Use me.

The words get stuck in his throat when he sucks in a shocked breath.

   “Fuck!” Eddie cries out, lost in the feeling of Steve’s lube slicked thumb rubbing over his rim in circles.

   “Relax, baby. Gonna take it easy, wanna make you feel so good.”

Before Eddie can protest, Steve’s mouth is back on his cock, lips closed around the head while he flicks his tongue around in the same, agonising motion that drove Eddie insane before.

It’s too much to take in, too many sensations at once, with Steve sinking deeper on Eddie’s hardness, inch per throbbing inch, while the tip of his thumb prods at his entrance, slow and soft and so very careful. The contrast of Steve’s greedy mouth swallowing him down and the gentleness of his finger pushing slowly inside, causes a short circuit in Eddie’s brain.

All he can do is whine and whimper, helplessly stammering useless pleas through parted lips. Steve’s name is the only thing keeping him tied to the here and now as Eddie slowly loses himself to the feeling, lets himself go, allows himself to be given wave after wave of coiling pleasure when Steve’s two fingers deep.

Suddenly, something rips through Eddie like his insides are made of exploding fireworks, when Steve hits that bundle of nerves no one had ever bothered to find before.

   “Steve, oh god, I-“

The warning dies on his tongue when he comes with a cry, filling Steve’s mouth with his release, coming hard and hot down his throat.

Steve swallows roughly, like he’s trying to keep it all in. It’s too much, Eddie can feel it, his lips slick with cum and saliva, dripping from the corners of his mouth and down his chin where he hovers above Eddie’s middle.

He doesn’t stop, though. Keeps going. Keeps thrusting his fingers while sucking on Eddie’s softening cock and Eddie wants to cry, needs him to stop, wants to beg him to keep going forever.

It’s a sensation unlike any he’s ever experienced before.

This, Eddie thinks, is what it must feel like to come from actual pleasure and not just from giving into his body’s natural impulse, what it feels like to drift, to fly, to be high on adrenaline and serotonin and whatever fucking hormones make him feel like he’s on top of the world.

Finally, Steve releases his spent cock, slick fingers slowing their movement before they pull out completely, leaving Eddie’s stretched hole empty and clenching around nothing.

And he wants to complain, wants to tell him to ‘come back, come here, need you inside, need you, please!’ but it’s hard to breathe, let alone think, so instead he whines and blindly searches for Steve’s hand to hold.

   “I got you, baby. I’m right here.”

Eddie feels like jelly, like molten wax in Steve’s hands when he grabs him by his legs and bends his knees and pulls him up and-

   “Tell me if it’s too much and I stop.”

-pushes the head of his cock into the waiting heat of Eddie’s body, slowly, so fucking slowly and careful.

For a moment, Eddie isn’t sure if it’s really happening or if it is maybe just wishful thinking. But as his mind slowly drifts back to earth and his surroundings come back into focus, as he begins to feel his own body again, he realises he isn’t just making this up.

He can feel the way his muscle stretches around Steve’s cock, pushing in and pulling back out, deeper inside with every forward movement of his hips.

It’s heavenly torture, the way Steve takes his time, lets Eddie adjust to the feeling, gives just a bit at a time. And it drives Eddie wild, makes him feral with want for ‘more, more, deeper, please!’

But Steve doesn’t waver, keeps up with the tormenting pace until finally, with one more thrust, he’s buried balls deep.

   “Fuck, baby! Ah, feels so good. So tight around me.”

If Eddie wasn’t busy moaning like a bitch in heat, he’d laugh at those words. Feels like crying at the notion of him being anything other than used-up and sloppy, a worn-out object, frayed at the edges, torn apart by too many before.

   “So tight, so perfect. And all just for me.”

He says it like he means it and something inside Eddie shifts. Warmth spreads from his chest in every other part of his body, through flesh and bone, settles in every cell, something that makes him feel new, different, other. He feels like drowning, like with every thrust, Steve pushes him deeper into a sea of light.

Submerged in sunshine, surrounded by white noise, Eddie lets himself fall.

He’s so lost, he doesn’t even notice the way his own cock is straining hard against his belly, leaking at the tip, making a mess where it throbs with every snap of Steve’s hips. The rhythm is soothing, harder now than it was before but steady, pushing deep, filling him with a pleasure that feels like something else, something holy, something he doesn’t know how he ever existed without.

Eddie floats, sinks, dies.

And comes back alive when his second orgasm hits even harder than the first, hits him the moment Steve cries out his name like he’s calling for God.

Out of breath and visibly exhausted, Steve can barely keep himself up on his trembling arms, but he still leans down to capture Eddie’s mouth in a feverish kiss.

   “So perfect,” Steve whispers again and this time, he agrees.

   “Thank you”, Eddie answers before he closes his eyes.

-----

Eddie doesn’t know how much time has passed. It felt like he only blinked, maybe rested his heavy lids for a minute or two. Or maybe five.

But when he opens his eyes again, he finds himself cleaned up and covered by a soft blanket, curled up next to Steve, head resting on the other man’s chest.

When he lifts his head to look up, Steve is already looking back at him, a beautiful smile on his lips.

   “There you are. How do you feel?”

The question should be easy enough to answer, but somehow Eddie struggles to find the right words.

Because how can he explain to a man he only met tonight, that he’s never felt better. That he can’t remember a single time his body hadn’t felt like he’d been run over by a bus after being fucked.

That no one ever managed or let alone tried to make Eddie come twice.

That here, in Steve’s arms, Eddie feels safe.

None of these answers seem right, feel too heavy, too loaded with memories. Years of putting up with undeserving strangers suddenly come crashing down on him and Eddie only realises he’s crying when Steve wipes at a tear with his thumb.

   “Hey, what’s wrong? Did I-“

Eddie shakes his head immediately, doesn’t want Steve to think even for one second that he’s done something wrong. If anything, Steve showed Eddie how much better his life could’ve been if he hadn’t resigned so early in life. If he hadn’t given himself up, treating his own body like trash – why would anyone treat him better than he treats himself?

Except, Steve did. Showed him what gentle touch feels like. What it’s like to be kissed while being taken apart. How wonderful it can be not to rush, to draw out every part of this wondrous game, how beautiful this act can be, how soft, how uplifting and rewarding.

   “Happy,” is all Eddie can say, breath hitching when he tries to swallow another sob trying to break free.

   “So those are happy tears?” Steve asks, and Eddie can hear the concern in his voice.

He nods, stops, shakes his head again, stops, huffs out a frustrated laugh.

   “I’m happy. You made me happy. But I’m sad because-“

Because what? Because he can’t have this forever? Can’t stay here to rest in Steve’s arms all night? Can’t come back for more?

   “You don’t have to tell me right now. Maybe we can talk about it tomorrow? Only if you want.”

Eddie’s eyes widen, his heart skips a beat.

   “T-tomorrow?” he repeats unbelieving.

   “Mhm,” Steve hums, while he pulls Eddie closer, “tomorrow. Because everything is better after a good night’s sleep, and a hot shower, and a proper breakfast.”

   “You- you want me to stay for breakfast?”

Steve scoffs and rolls his eyes as if Eddie just said something stupid.

   “Right now, I just want to hold you, if that’s okay?”

And before Eddie can answer, Steve turns off the light and covers the room in comfortable darkness. He kisses the top of his head, sighing contently as he sinks deeper into the mattress, taking Eddie with him, holding him tight in his warm embrace.

   “Promise you’ll stay the night?”

Eddie smiles, bites down a laugh when his mind offers ‘I’ll stay forever, if you let me’.

   “Promise,” he says instead, closes his eyes and lets the rhythm of Steve’s heart slowly lull him to sleep.

He’s not used to this part, to being held like something worth keeping.

But he hopes, believes, that one day he will be.

[sailorstar9]

AND NOW THE REQUEST can you please please please do reo mikage (my boy my husband) x artist!reader? who has an art gallery at only 17 years old and they met at school, being a couple until reaching blue lock? what happens next I'll leave to your imagination! thanks in advance bestiee!

'Shocking news! Mikage family breaks off marriage contract to Asō Clan daughter'

'Mikage family chooses famous Edo-period artist Utagawa Atsushi descendant over Asō Clan daughter'

The headlines of the top story of the Society news of the morning newspapers screamed.

“Dad,” Reo swallowed his mouthful of tea. “Won't the Asō Clan...”

“The Asō Clan has no say in this; the marriage contract between my family and the Saga Family came earlier.” it was Mrs. Mikage who answered her son.

“Saga ...” Reo's eyes widened. “One of the cadet families of the Minamoto Clan...”

“I met with Saga Ken'ichi.” Mrs. Mikage continued. “His granddaughter, the girl you're supposed to marry, is an artistic genius that is said to appear once a millennium.”

“This is the address of the Saga art galley.” Mr. Mikage penned down an address on a piece of note paper and handed it over to his son. “Take a trip there and have a look at your future bride this weekend.”

Before dawn that morning... Saga F/N was already on the Hakuho High School campus, her arms cradling the rolled up art paper as she hurried to the empty classroom that had been designated as her art room.

Spreading one of the art paper on the heavy wooden table, F/N prepared her ink on the slate inkstone. Lifting a paintbrush, she dipped the brush in the ink and started on another crane flock sumi-e painting.

On Saturday...

Arriving at the Saga Family art gallery, Reo stepped out of the limo, only to be informed by one of the art handlers that F/N had went to the Nagano Province get inspiration for her next art piece.

Without skipping a beat, Reo returned to the limo and had the driver drive to the Nagano Province.

Meanwhile, in Hakuba Valley, F/N was strolling through Oide Park and taking photos.

The following week...

Reo finally managed to catch a glimpse of F/N when he dropped by the Saga Family art gallery; the Family was apparently putting the newest works of its prodigal son on public display. Said prodigal son, Saga Toshi, was also F/N's father, aka the internationally renowned artist whose works were always sold at auctions with a minimum bid of £300 thousand.

At dinner that evening, Reo cast a questioning look at his father, “Father, did you know that my betrothed is the daughter of your favourite artist?”

“Is she?” Mr. Mikage sipped his white wine.

After school on Monday...

Reo located the very few friends F/N had in school and got the information he wanted; where F/N's art room was.

After knocking on the door and receiving no response, Reo slid the door aside and entered the makeshift art room. “Amazing...” the Mikage heir breathed in astonishment when he stepped in and saw the numerous art pieces scattered all over the room: the walls were littered with a mix of traditional and Western art, both completed and uncompleted.

“Ano...” F/N's confused voice sounded from the corridor.

Reo snapped his head around and spotted the puzzled girl. “Er... hi?” seeing the bucket of water in F/N's hand, he hurried over. “Let me.”

Moments later, Reo was sitting on the 2-seater couch in the visitor section, biting on a senbei that had been served on a round tray as he watched F/N continue working on her watercolour piece.

From that day on, Reo and F/N settled into a comfortable companionship; with Reo adding several of his personal touches to the art room; like for example, the expensive hanging censer, complete with accompanying incense and an exquisite tea set and its various tea boxes.

All that changed when Reo crossed paths with Nagi about a month later; the Mikage heir had set his sights on winning the World Cup and chanced upon the surprisingly talented Nagi and managed to rope the unmotivated teen into playing soccer.

After Reo ditched her at lunchtime for Nagi for the fifth time, F/N simply just returned to her usual routine; a quick lunch of onigiri before going back to complete her newest commission.

Five months later...

“Ba-ya handed me an invitation letter from the Japan Football Union this morning.” before soccer practice, Reo managed to catch F/N and handed her the invitation letter.

“'Certified athlete'.” F/N read the short letter. “Interesting phasing. And you're informing me of this; why?”

“I figured you'll be wondering why Nagi and I won't be in school from next week onwards.” Reo shrugged.

“And how is it any different from the past five months?” F/N reminded flatly.

Reo let out a hiss in realization, “I've really been neglecting you, haven't I?”

“Oh really?” F/N rolled her eyes. “I haven't noticed. Actually,” she turned to Reo. “There's one question I've always wanted to ask: what happens after you win the World Cup?” she threw the flabbergasted Reo the final question before entering her art room.

“Young Missus.” Uesugi Junichi, F/N's long-time bodyguard, made his presence known shortly after Reo left for soccer practice.

“Uesugi-kun, report.” F/N stopped mid-brush.

“Asō Kamiko...” Uesugi started his verbal report.

Three days later...

“Asō and Saga are in the principal's office!” one of Reo's busybody classmates shouted from the corridor after school. “Saga's accusing Asō for defacing her artwork but Asō's denying it.”

Reo's eyes widened. He hurriedly packed his book-bag and dashed off.

In the principal's office...

“I'm innocent!” Asō Kamiko, the Hakuho High school beauty, argued. “You don't have any proof!”

“My Kamiko is a good girl.” Mrs. Asō defended her daughter.

“Are you sure?” F/N was unfazed. “Uesugi-kun.” she turned to her bodyguard.

“At once, young missus.” Uesugi bowed slightly and headed out, returning to the office minutes later with an USB flash drive.

“You see, Asō-san.” F/N started, as Uesugi handed her the flash drive. “I've have had past incidents where my art work are defaced before. That's why I always made it a point to install at least one surveillance camera in my art room. Principal, would you mind playing the recording?”

“Very well.” the school principal nodded and plugged in the flash drive.

It hadn't taken long for the video to clearly show Kamiko splashing ink on F/N's unfinished painting.

“Vice President Asō.” Inaba, the head appraiser of the Saga Family's appraiser panel entered the principal's office. “Me and my team have properly appraised the damage done to Miss Saga's artwork and this is the reparation cost.”

“Are you kidding me!?” Mr. Asō exploded, seeing the massive restitution amount on the bill. “There is no way a measly painting could cost...”

“Then perhaps, you would like to explain to the King of Spain as to why his daughter's birthday present is delayed, Vice President Asō.” F/N drawled.

At that, the two Asō adults paled considerably.

“Fine.” Mr. Asō spat and pulled out his cheque book.

“Oh no, Vice President Asō.” F/N tsked, shaking her head. “I have no wish to touch a single yen from the Asō Clan. After all, this is Kamiko-san's debt, is it not?”

“I see.” Mr. Asō understood what F/N was implying. “I'll wire Kamiko's monthly allowance to your bank account until the restitution cost is paid off.”

“I'm glad you're so understanding, Vice President Asō.” F/N smiled. “I believe we're done here, Principal.”

“Yes...” the principal breathed in relief.

“Principal, the flash drive, please.” Uesugi reminded.

“Right.” the principal returned the flash drive to the martial artist.

“Daddy, you can't!” Kamiko wailed, as F/N left the office with Uesugi and Inaba.

“Inaba-san, I appreciate the help you and your group provided.” F/N turned to her grandfather's personal appraiser. “Please send my regards to grandfather.”

“I will, Ms. Saga.” Inaba assured.

On cue, murmurs from the gathered students started erupting.

“Did Saga just take down Asō?”

“That's so hardcore!” “I thought Saga's just an ordinary artist.”

“The King of Spain!? Just how good is she?”

“Serves Asō right. Actions have consequences.” that was from one of Asō's bullied victims.

“Young missus...” Uesugi started.

“It'll be fine, Uesugi-kun.” F/N assured. “You forget.” she tapped the side of her head. “I still have the original concept in here.”

On the Blue Lock admission day...

Reo fingered the mandarin duck jadeite charm in his trousers pocket F/N had Ba-Ya pass to him.

Two days after the Blue Lock Eleven vs. U20 exhibition match...

Anri returned to the facility with a package from the deliveryman; a charcoal sketch from F/N, depicting the Blue Lock Eleven players from an aerial point-of-view.

After Reo returned from his outing with his Blue Lock teammates...

“Young Master Reo,” Ba-ya handed Reo an envelope with gold and silver glitter trimming. “Uesugi-san sent this over on Saga-ojou's behalf.”

“From F/N?” Reo blinked, taking the envelope and instantly recognizing the Spanish Royal seal at the back of the envelope. “This is...” breaking the wax seal, he took out the mother-of-pearl birthday gala invitation.

That weekend...

Reo and F/N had flew to Spain two days earlier to get their gala outfits specifically tailored by the royal seamstress team.

On the night of the birthday gala, the fully-decked out Reo was adjusting the cuff-link of his black tuxedo when he heard the sharp clicking of stiletto heels coming down from the spiral staircase. He turned his head up and felt his throat go dry when he saw F/N descend the stairs in a V-necked mermaid diamond evening gown. “You look beautiful.” he whispered, offering a hand. “Shall we?”

In the ballroom where the birthday gala was held, Reo watched in astonishment as F/N weaved through the invited guests, both local and foreign nobility alike, and conversing flawlessly with different groups in their languages. When he saw the hand of a foreign delegate linger over F/N's hip, Reo saw red. Still minding his etiquette, he left his half-empty champagne glass on a table and made his way over. Wordlessly, he snatched F/N to his side and pulled her out to the corridor.

“I don't like it.” Reo growled, pinning F/N against a stone pillar. “I don't like other men touching my treasure.” without even waiting for F/N to respond, he picked her up in a bridal carry and left the birthday gala.

In their shared hotel suite...

Reo discarded the tuxedo jacket after putting F/N on the king-sized bed.

“I'm your treasure?” sitting up, F/N gave her fiancé a sceptical look. “I thought that was Nagi.”

“Whoever said I'm allowed only one treasure?” Reo's eyes darkened, climbing over F/N and pushing her back on the pillows. “We have a lot of catching up to do, Wife.”

A/N: (Mentally preparing for the girlish squeals coming my way) A/N 2: In Japan culture, mandarin ducks symbolize marital love, fidelity, and conjugal bliss. So, F/N giving Reo the mandarin duck jadeite charm means that despite their rather frosty relationship, she still intends to marry him.

[rrrrinmaru]

picasso (marius x fem!reader) (nsfw)

wc: 5.7k rating: E warnings: nsfw, vaginal fingering, handjob, squirting, they're both freaks for each other

“I think it’s pretty,” you say plainly. “I like the look of it. I’ve always had a soft spot for ink wash works.”

The exhibit is held in a famous glass museum in downtown Stellis. There had been a controversy about the full glass walls and privacy issues a few years ago (you had read this case once, out of curiosity, and never again), but that was eventually resolved and now the first floor of the museum was regularly used for art exhibits. 

Before you knew Marius’ secret identity, you had invited him to visit one of Z’s exhibits. And Marius, the most shameless man to ever walk this Earth, had agreed. 

Fortunately, you learnt about this secret before you bought tickets for the exhibit. Not that you wouldn’t want to see his works displayed in the gallery, but the thought of you gushing over Z’s artwork in front of Marius without knowing the truth… 

It’s embarrassing. 

Today, however, it’s a different artist’s work on display. Thomas Mikeden, a foreign painter who’s been going on an exhibit world tour. Stellis is his latest stop, and everything just lined up. Both of you had the day off and tickets were on sale. You had invited Marius to the exhibit, excited to hear his artistic insight about the paintings, but Marius has been… a little petulant.

“I can’t believe we’re looking at a Mikeden painting,” he mutters, arms folded across his chest. “The first time you invite me to an art exhibit and it isn’t even mine; I can overlook that, but Mikeden?”

“What do you have against him?”

“We’re friends,” Marius says solemnly, looking like he doesn’t even believe the words coming out his mouth, “but we suffer from creative differences. Severe creative differences. If I ever have to see the way he mixes his oil paints again, I’d end up on the news for criminal activity. And he said if he ever had to see me try to sculpt a pot again, he’d wring my neck himself. He said my clay pots were an abomination against God.”

You blink at him. “You know how to do pottery?”

“According to him, I don’t.”

And suddenly, you get it. Creative differences, more like a bunch of children arguing over who does something right, or who does something better. Like kindergarteners fighting over whose parent made them the better lunchbox. 

“What are your thoughts on his ink wash painting?” 

Marius gives you an appraising look. “Not his worst work. He’s alright with ink wash. I've personally dabbled in ink wash before. It’s not my preferred medium, but we learnt it as part of our curriculum.”

You turn to look at him, eyes bright. “Really? Do you still have those ink wash paintings hidden away somewhere?”

“Of course. I never throw my works away. I’ll bring you to one of my storage warehouses one day.” 

One of his storage warehouses? It never occurred to you that painters would need a lot of space to store their paintings, even more so if they were particularly diligent and practiced different painting techniques often. With how many easels and canvases were strewn about Marius’ house, you suppose you should have made the connection.

“I’m looking forward to it.” 

The next few works are insightful, to say the least. Marius gets up close and personal with one of them to sneakily point out to you a place where Mikeden allegedly made a mistake and had spent hours trying to cover it up. 

“This is from when he tried to lean into the Baroque style,” Marius says, using his thumb to frame certain parts of the painting to draw your eye to them. “The colors here, see, the stark contrast between the light and the dark? That’s the use of tenebrism, popularised by Caravaggio.”

“Hm,” you note, eyes wandering around the painting. It’s a stunning piece of work, and Mikeden captured the likeness of the male form well. The extreme contrast almost seems to frame the figures with a halo, a light that blooms from their very center to strike at the viewer’s attention. “They’re quite handsome.”

Marius makes a sound at the back of his throat. “You’re more into modern men, jiejie.”

You hide your laugh behind a cough. He’s like a needy kitten pawing at you for attention, and you’re helpless against someone this cute. 

“Yes, yes, look at how handsome you are,” you say, turning around to face him head-on. You reach out, smoothing the non-existent creases away from his button-down. 

Without really thinking too deeply, your fingers linger on the stretch of the fabric across his chest—the thought that you can see them if you squint hard enough comes unbidden to your mind. The small bumps under the fabric, stiff from the slight chill of the room. 

It’s the kind of thought that grips you by the throat, sitting in your mind and taking up space, holding you captive until you do something about it. 

You brush your thumb against one of them, just because they’re right there, because you can, because Marius’ hands are on your hips and you’re feeling a little… playful. 

Immediately, a hand catches your wrist. It doesn’t stop you from pressing the pad of your thumb lightly against that raised bump, and Marius’ breath hitches. His fingers flex against your wrist, hard enough that you can’t help but smile. 

He’s usually the one making you flush in public, so you mark this as a victory. The sight of him, red-faced and pouting, heart pounding so desperately you can feel it through his chest—you pull your hand back, and he lets you go. That hand drops back to your waist as you bring your thumb to your lips, and you hold Marius’ gaze as the tip of your tongue darts out to lick your thumb.

Marius goes still. It’s as if he’s nothing more than one of the paintings hung up on the gallery walls, with how still he is; his pupils are blown wide and he gives you this shaken look, as if you’ve completely disarmed him. Swept him off his feet and left him grasping at straws to find the words to say. 

Eventually, you go back to smoothing out his shirt. Properly, this time. No messing around.

“You’re driving me crazy,” Marius murmurs, his breath puffing against the curve of your throat as he leans down. His voice is soft, barely louder than a whisper, but it somehow feels deafening in the quiet of the room. 

Your hands tighten around the front of his shirt. “Marius?”

“Be quiet for a moment,” he says. His fingers rest on your hips and you swear you can feel the heat radiating off his palms. It makes you want to shuffle away, pull back and put some space between the both of you—he doesn’t do anything, doesn’t tighten his grip, but his hands somehow get heavier. Like a weighted blanket resting around your waist, shackles holding you in place without really holding you at all. 

Your heart kicks in your chest. It isn’t often that Marius gets this way, so quiet and possessive, like he has to cage you in a small corner and watch you to make sure you don’t get away. His forehead rests against your clavicle—it’s not a comfortable position, not when he’s so much taller and he’s pressed up so closely against you that you can feel the way his chest shivers when he drags in a long breath. 

“Jiejie,” Marius whispers, voice quiet. “Sometimes, I wish I could wrap you up like a piece of art and hang you on my wall.”

He’s crazy, you think, and you realise even your subconscious thoughts have taken on this air of fondness when thinking of him.

“Is that so?” You reply, voice just as hushed. From the corner of your eye, you can see another patron glance at the both of you—they glance away, then look back, as if doubting their gaze. Yes, you think weakly to yourself, Marius is indeed clinging to you in the middle of a public gallery for expensive artworks that easily go for three times the price of your apartment. “Which wall will you put me up on?”

This time, Marius’ grip tightens imperceptibly on your hips. “Any wall that jiejie wants to be put up on,” he says huskily. His voice has dropped an octave, and the tone he takes is one that you’ve become very familiar with when you tease each other. Never enough to really commit to anything, not yet, but enough that Marius gets that look in his eyes like he’d very much want to stop being a gentleman about things. 

Abruptly, you notice the double entendre. “Marius!”

“You asked,” he says smugly, lifting his head so you come face to face with the smirk pulling at his lips. He tugs you in to press your body fully up against his, hip to shoulder. “Is jiejie shy now? I can tell you about which walls I’ve thought about you up on—my bedroom, naturally, but the living room is a strong contender.”

You gape at him, too shocked to say something smart in return. “You—! Not so loud, we’re in public!”

“No one’s listening.” Marius tilts his head, giving the surroundings a cursory once over before catching your gaze. “They’re busy looking at the art on display. I’m looking at a different kind of art on display.”

He’s so shameless that it makes you want to burst out in laughter. A different kind of art on display? Who does he think he is, a host from a host club? Where did he learn these phrases from? The Internet? His brother? Worse, Vyn? 

The thought of Marius asking the one and only Vyn Richter for advice on how to pick girls up makes you laugh. 

“You think you’re so smooth,” you say helplessly, lips curving up of their own accord as you reach up to loop your arms around Marius’ neck. “You think I’m going to fall for that?”

“I’m not a gambling man,” Marius tells you, a confident glint in his eye, “but I’ve always been lucky.” 

He puts up a strong front, but you know better. The back of his neck is hot from embarrassment. The tips of his ears are flushed red. You brush a stray strand of hair past the shell of his ear and pinch the crimson tip along the way. 

“Jiejie,” Marius whines, caught in the act. “Come on, let me pretend for a bit. Don’t you want to come home with me and have a better time?” 

He gives you this beseeching look, brows furrowed and lips turned down. You’re weak to that look—it’s suckered you into agreeing to far more things than you normally would have agreed to. But how can you say no to a face like that? To a man built like that, shoulders so broad they could dwarf you in a hug, fingers so long they could encircle your wrist, a face like God himself came down to carve it from marble—when Marius looks at you with that pleading gaze, millimeters away from begging, how can you say no to anything he asks for? 

Perhaps a stronger man would be able to resist the power of Marius’ visual attack. But you never proclaimed to have a strong willpower, and you fold like a castle of cards in a stiff breeze. 

“Let’s finish looking at all the works first. And no, just because you know who the artist is and insist that you could bring me over to his studio to see his other works—that doesn’t mean I don’t want to see the works exhibited here.”

“His art isn’t even that good,” Marius says, just to be contrary. “If you really wanted to see something from him, you should see his sculptures. I’ll admit those are impressive.”

“Finish the gallery, and then we can go home. You get to pick dinner.”

He perks up. “Italian or Chinese?”

“Later,” you insist. “I want to see this painting—” you glance at the title, raising an eyebrow when you catch sight of it, “—Lotus III.”

“Inspired by the same lotus garden that was featured in Lotus 0, Lotus I and Lotus II,” Marius grumbles as he takes one hand off your waist. You slide your hands down his shoulders, his chest, and furtively pat him on the ass before letting him go. 

He jumps, eyes wide as he swivels his head around to look at you. You give him an innocent look in return. 

“If you insist on being naughty, jiejie, don’t be surprised if I snatch you away and kidnap you back home.” The hand still on your waist squeezes in warning, and heat slithers down your back at the tone in his voice. 

You put a hand over the one on your waist, sliding your fingers in between his. “Be good.”

“Good boys get rewards. Is there a reward waiting for me later, jiejie?”

Naughty, you think to yourself, side-eying him. There’s a charming smile on his face, not even bothering to hide the playfulness lurking beneath his eyes. He’s testing you, pushing and pulling at your limits to see how far you can bend over backwards. 

“Maybe,” you reply. It’s never a good thing to reveal all your cards too early when dealing with a von Hagen in a playful mood. 

Marius laughs, leaning in to press his lips against the side of your head. “I’ll be good, I promise.”

The way he practically attaches himself to your hip, thumb rubbing possessively over your waist—you can’t help the flush crawling up to your cheeks, or the heat that flares between your legs. His hold on you isn’t tight, but it isn’t loose either. It reeks of a promise, and you can’t help but look forward to what that will happen once the two of you get back to his house. Or what will happen once you get into his car, when Marius has you right where he wants you to be and there’s enough privacy for something to happen. 

You shift, thighs rubbing together involuntarily at the stray thought. Desire slips through your body like a snake coiling in your veins; if you cling a little tighter to Marius in return, your mind only half-focused on the works displayed on the walls, well, no one will know. 

You think Marius might suspect something, though, going by the way his smirk grows larger with every glance he shoots you from the corner of his eye. 

Like he’s found something he can’t take his eyes off. Like he’s found something he likes. 

You fail to give Mikeden the attention his works deserve for the rest of the time you spend in the gallery, but he’s truly friends with Marius then you think the man won’t mind too much.

==

To your surprise, Marius doesn’t immediately scoop you into his lap when you get into the car. 

He leans over to help you pull the seatbelt, and very conveniently buries his face in your neck for half a second before he pulls back. Long enough for him to press his lips against your collarbone, the tip of his tongue swiping wetly against your skin; short enough for you to wonder if you hallucinated it.

But the smug look in his eyes as he pulls the seatbelt over your chest to click it into place tells you that you most definitely did not hallucinate it. 

“Home first,” Marius tells you, pretending to be casual as he leans back in his seat and does his own seatbelt. “If you keep looking at me with those eyes, jiejie, I can’t promise I’ll keep my hands to myself while we’re on the road back.”

Right, you think dazedly. You’d forgotten Marius had decided to drive the both of you here—it wasn’t far from his place, and the both of you typically take a chauffeured car, but Marius wanted to do something special today. You haven’t been on a date in a while due to your unfortunate work schedule, and it definitely surprised you when Marius pulled up to your apartment in the driver’s seat, the window wound down, sunglasses sliding down the bridge of his nose as he grinned at you. 

“What a shame,” you murmur under your breath, watching as he does his own seatbelt before pulling out of the parking lot. 

Your words make Marius stiffen. He glances at you from the corner of his eye, one hand resting lazily on the steering wheel as the other finds its way to your knee. 

Again with that loose grip that feels like a shackle holding you in place. Marius isn’t doing anything more than just placing his hand over your knee—there’s not even any real pressure behind, no force or flexing or tightening of his grip, but you feel weighed down. You feel held down.

You wonder, a little stupidly, if Marius would do something if you spread your legs apart. 

But you’re on the road. Despite the heat flaring insistently in your gut, you’re not actually ready to risk it all while Marius is behind the wheel. It would have been a different story if the both of you were in the back seat with the partition drawn up. The ride back is what, ten, fifteen minutes? There’s a lot you can get done in that period of time.

Right as you resign yourself to a normal, quick ride back home, Marius’ hand slips a little.

Just a little. It’s so subtle that if it weren’t for the heat practically bleeding through his palms, you think you wouldn’t have noticed. 

His hand goes from right above your knee to cupping the inside of your knee. 

You eye him speculatively. Was it inertia? The car made a turn and his hand simply slipped with the centrifugal force? 

His lips quirk up. “I’ll get shy if you keep looking at me, jiejie. I need to focus on the road.”

“Hm,” you say, feeling your cunt clench involuntarily when Marius’ hand moves further up your thigh. It’s not in direct contact with your skin, not when there’s your silk dress in between, but the material is thin and you swear you can feel the calluses from Marius’ fingers rubbing gently against the sensitive inside of your thigh. 

Fifteen minutes, you think. Surely you can’t die from a little fun on the road. 

“Your hand’s on the wrong place,” you murmur, gently placing your hand over his. 

Marius hums at the back of his throat. “Ah? Sorry, I—jiejie.”

You lift his hand off your thigh for a quick moment, draw apart the slit of your dress, and slide his hand under the fabric.

Directly on your thigh. You even curve his fingers back down so he can maintain that grip on you.

You can see his fingers flex. They’re stiff, knuckles tense as if he doesn’t know what to do with himself. When you peek at him, his ears are flushed a bright red and his Adam’s Apple bobs furiously, like he’s swallowing desperately. 

And right between his thighs, you can see a tent in his trousers. You kind of want to reach out to touch it, but you hold yourself back. 

“Jiejie,” he whines, and chances a glance at you before reluctantly dragging his eyes back to the road. “I was joking—you can’t distract me while I’m driving.”

“I’m not doing anything,” you say mildly, burying the laugh that threatens to escape when his fingers squeeze pointedly around your thigh. The grave you dug is for both of you; his hand is higher now, on your thigh, so close to your core that one road bump would probably be reason enough for his fingers to slide right home. 

You almost want to pretend to jerk forward. But you have enough of your wits about you to recognise that if Marius felt the heat of your pussy through your panties press up against his fingertips at this moment, he would probably drive the car into the nearest building. 

“I’m trying to be good,” Marius complains. His fingers keep twitching against your skin, as if he’s really, physically holding himself back from doing something. 

“Good boys get rewards,” you echo, patting the back of his palm. “We’re almost home, see the gates up in front?”

He clicks his tongue. “As if I can focus on anything right now.” To prove his point, he speeds up, leg bouncing impatiently as he turns into the driveway. “Park, I have to park…”

The whole time, his hand doesn’t leave your thigh. And there’s something really sexy about it, you can’t help but realise—the slant of his jaw from the side, the way driving comes so easily to him, where he only needs one hand to maneuver the wheel. Even the way he looks over his shoulder as he eases into his parking spot makes you want to press your thighs together in a useless attempt to stave off the heat building in your core. 

“Good enough,” Marius declares, switching the engine off. “Out, out, come on—”

He snaps the seatbelt off and practically flies out the car. You’re so taken aback that you’re still in your seat when he comes to your side and yanks the door open, petulance written all over his face when he finds you still strapped in. 

“C’mon,” he whines, reaching over to unbuckle your seatbelt. “Jiejie, come on, come on—”

“Impatient,” you chide, even as you reach out to steady yourself while you exit the car. “Hold on, my heels—”

“Jiejie,” Marius says, and he seriously sounds like he’s about to burst. 

In that split second, you make a decision. Your panties are ruined as is, and you really, really want to be filled right now. You’re not sure if you can make the distance from the car to the lift, especially when the garage is so fucking huge—

“Backseat,” you murmur, and Marius reacts much faster than you expect. He pulls you up and into his chest, making you let out a sound of surprise at how aggressive he is, but he’s surprisingly gentle when he cups your jaw and slants his lips over yours. 

It’s a desperate kiss. Marius licks into your mouth, hands tight around your waist as he pulls you in close. The bulge in his slacks feels like it’s burning a brand into your hip—you want to skate your hands down, cup that swollen cock and rub your thumb over the tip. You’ve never seen it, not yet, but the two of you have fooled around every now and then so you’re somewhat familiar with the curve of his cock through his pants. 

It’s a hefty weight in your fingers, and Marius always makes the most delicious sounds when you rock your hips against him, squeezing around his thigh between your legs as you trace over the outline of his cock. 

“Fuck,” Marius curses. His fingers dig greedily into the sides of your body—the grip now is entirely different from the one at the museum. The positions are roughly the same, but this time he holds you like he’s trying to burn his brand into you, leave an imprint of bruises around your waist so you ache every time you move tomorrow morning. “Fuck, jiejie, your mouth—”

“Mmhmm,” you hum into his mouth, shoving one thigh between his legs so you can get a good seat on Marius’ thigh. It’s as if Marius has a direct line of sight into your mind—he hikes you up on his thigh so the hard line of his muscle presses right into the swell of your clit, and you groan out loud as you start rocking against his thigh. 

Fuck, you think you could cum like this. Marius’ hands have dropped lower, cupping the curve of your ass and every squeeze he makes goes straight to your cunt like there’s a livewire connection. He pulls you so high up that you’re struggling to keep your toes on the ground, and Marius is practically pulling you back and forth on his leg, helping you rut against him. 

His breath is hot. His kisses are searing, and it feels like there’s a nonstop feedback loop where your arousal pours into each other over and over again. It’s a fire in your gut, threatening to eat you alive, and when he pulls back to catch his breath, he immediately bows down to lick against your jaw. 

Marius sucks at your skin, bullying a bruise into the underside of your jaw. He isn’t satisfied with just one, and he just keeps going down the expanse of your neck, biting at any patch of unblemished skin. 

“Baby,” you whisper, one hand trailing down to press your palm over the tight bulge begging for attention. The lightest touch is enough to make Marius groan, hips stuttering as he chases your touch. “Can I—can I touch?”

Marius freezes for a heartbeat. Before you can second guess yourself, he moans into your neck, hips jerking as he pushes his clothed cock into your palm. “Yes, yes, yes,” he chants, nodding while avoiding eye contact with you.

His ears are crimson. So cute, you can’t help but think through the fever in your mind. It’s almost too easy to find your way around the button in his pants, and there’s some trouble with getting the zipper down from how hard he is. His briefs get caught for a moment, long enough to make Marius groan from frustration, but you shush him with another slide of your hips, cunt wet enough to drench his slacks, and Marius shuts up. 

“Good boy,” you murmur breathlessly, arching your back so you get a better angle to grind your clit against his thigh. “Be good, come on, let me—”

Unfortunately, there are no flaps in briefs for you to pull his cock out from. You reach in instead, shivering at the proper weight of it in your palm—skin on skin, you think deliriously to yourself, cunt clenching at the feeling of Marius’ cock in your hand. His cock, so thick that you can’t even really wrap your fingers around it properly, and the head is dripping. 

Marius sucks in a tight breath, cursing as he cants his hips up, almost bouncing you on his lap from the force. 

“Jiejie,” he begs, plaintive and desperate. “Nngh, please, the tip, you need to—fuck, I’m not going to—I’m going to cum, jiejie…”

And you stop thinking. You grab one of his hands and drag it to your front, so commandingly that Marius’ head flies up. His eyes are red, lips parted as he sucks in a shaky breath every time you swipe your thumb across the sensitive slit at the head of his cock. 

“In, inside,” you whine, rising as high as you can go on your toes. It’s not very high, given how far up Marius has pulled you onto his thigh, but it’s enough for your to drag his long fingers under your skirt and press them up against your cunt. 

Marius’ eyes are blown wide. “In-inside?” He stammers, fingers crooking automatically to press against the throbbing bud of your clit. Such clever fucking fingers, already familiar with the shape of your cunt to know where your clit is. 

Without needing much direction, he uses two fingers to drag your soaked panties to the side and rubs the knuckle of his index finger against your pussy. 

“A-ah,” you cry out, hips jerking. Fuck, you understand now why Marius reacted like that when you got your hand on his cock—there’s something about the texture of his skin, the calluses on his fingers that’s stroking the sides of your pussy, the sheer heat radiating off him—and the knowledge, the knowledge that it’s his hands on your cunt. After months of frotting, the most you’ve done being Marius’s palm flat against your cunt while you held eye contact and grinded against his shaking palm until you cummed—

“Inside, baby, come on,” you plead, rocking your hips insistently against his curious fingers. 

Again, it’s like Marius gets you. He sinks his index finger in; you think he wanted to go slow, because he tentatively pressed up into your cunt, but you’re greedy and you’ve been thinking of being filled since Marius made that joke about putting you up against a wall and you whine, rocking forward until you sink down, down, all the way down to the base and Marius’ breath is hitching in his throat. 

“You’re—” his finger bends, the tip brushing against this spot inside you that makes your entire body shiver, threatening to bend in half from the electricity that surges through you. “Shit, you’re—fuck, jiejie, you feel fucking incredible.”

“One more,” you beg, holding his wrist in place while you clench around his finger. Christ, you didn’t think it could feel this good. It’s so foreign, so much longer and thicker than your fingers—and again, the knowledge that it’s Marius’ hand, Marius’ finger is enough to make your gut tighten and sparks burst at the very end of your fingertips. “One more and my—”

You break off, thighs trembling when he swipes against your swollen clit with his thumb.

Marius groans at the sight of you, leaning in to bite at your lips. “One more and my thumb on your clit? Is that what you want, jiejie? Is that what you need?”

“Mmhmm—ahhhhhn, fuck, Marius—please, please, I’m so fucking close—!”

You’re not even sure if you’re still stroking the length of his cock. All your senses have narrowed down to your cunt, the pressure on your clit and the way his fingers have gained confidence with every stroke—he fucks up into you with such surety, so certain that he knows exactly where to hit to get that same, body shivering reaction from you.

The worst part is, he does. It barely takes one, two, three strokes while he whispers filthy things about how hot and wet and slick your cunt is, about how it’s soaked through just for him, about how he wants to bury his face in it, please jiejie, please let him put your thighs around his ears and eat you out, and you’re gone. 

It hits you so hard you think you almost pass out. The ascent comes too quickly; it almost feels like the orgasm is ripped from you from clever hands that know you better than you know yourself. It leaves you breathless, your entire body jerking uncontrollably as you whine, pussy clenching around those two thick fingers buried in your cunt. You’re mumbling nonsense, not even sure what you’re saying as your cunt gushes around Marius’ ruined pants and when you resurface, Marius looks at you like you’re the second coming of Christ.

It takes you both a while to get your breathing under control. Marius recovers first, gently sliding his fingers out of your cunt. You’re a little embarrassed at the absolute mess you’ve made, but Marius eyes the wetness dripping over his palm, down his wrist, and decides to drag his tongue along his skin to lick it all up.

He even looks right as you as he does it. The sight is enough to make your clit throb, as if gearing up for a second round. Oh, you could definitely do a second round, but you think you’d prefer for it to be in a room with a bed and not a garage.

Almost absentmindedly, you start to rub your thumb against the cockhead in your grip.

“F-fuck,” Marius groans lowly, free hand reaching out to grab your wrist. “Wait, wait—nnngh, sensitive. Give me a moment.”

You pause. You look down.

His briefs are stained. There’s a massive wet spot at the front, and when you drag your fingers out, they’re coated in a sticky, white fluid. 

You look Marius in the eye as you, too, lift your fingers to your lips. You stick your tongue out, wiping the threads of cum on your tongue so Marius can see how white looks in your mouth—and he flushes even redder than he already is, eyes darting away before darting back, as if he can’t decide whether he wants to look or not—and then you swallow. 

Marius is speechless for a while. 

“That was really hot,” he says eventually, voice hoarse. “I—fuck, jiejie, I can go again. I’m serious, just give me a minute.” 

You suck on your fingertips for a moment. You’re clearly ready for a second round, but you know he gets more desperate when you keep him hanging. And a desperate Marius is always a delight to work with. 

“Bedroom?” You suggest, and your cunt tightens at the way his eyes immediately go dark with desire.

==

© rrrrinmaru 2024 | no unauthorised publication or reproduction allowed

[venomwrites]

She is trying to remember where the kitchen is when she hears the sound. 

Sobbing. 

Vi is at the door instantly, ear pressed against it. It’s so faint. Before she can think too much she twists the doorknob and prepares to put her shoulder through the door. But the knob twists and the door opens as Vi throws herself into the room. She was going to avoid it as long as possible, the weight of what they planned in this room is still crippling. Her eyes fly over to the wall where they planned all their sins. She’s had so many fucking nightmares about standing here. Agreeing to everything, suggesting shit. All of her home was displayed on the wall and she focused on it being there like it belonged. Like she could belong. Instead of focusing on what really mattered. 

The plans litter the floor now. 

The have been torn down frantically. The long map clings to the wall with a single pin and falls to the ground. The edges are torn and pulled apart, some of the layers almost translucent. The magnifying glass is laying cracked on the ground, like a split eye. When Vi steps forward glass crunches under her boot. Pins scatter the floor as well. Some puncture red string. That’s not the only red. Blood dots some of the paper as well. It’s fancy paper, something Vi had no idea existed. It feels heavy in your hands and it’s just thick enough that if you run your fingers along it wrong it slices them. Caitlyn’s too practiced to slice her fingers on paper. Or she was. 

Above it all, Caitlyn stands by the fire.

Weeping. 

Blood from her cut fingers streaks down her face. Some of it mixes with her tears and paints pink streaks down her cheeks. Vi has spent months dragging grease down her own face, painting black lines where Caitlyn now cries pink. Her hair is wild and unbound. If Vi had to guess there’s blood there too. Vi knows she shouldn’t be here. Caitlyn looks at her in tearful shock when she throws herself into the room. But she’s so worked up that even if she fights it, her inhale is shallow, hitched and wet. Her next exhale is a sob. 

That breaks Vi’s stupor. 

She crosses the room to Caitlyn and bands her arms around her. Caitlyn tenses and then melts into the embrace. Her fingers clutch the back of Vi’s shirt as she wails her grief and anger into Vi’s chest. They’ve been here before. They were so different back then. So much has changed between them. But not the way she brings her shoulder up and tucks Caitlyn’s head against her cheek. Not the way Caitlyn lets go in the safety of her arms. It’s not a few sobs this time. This is months of pain and rage and grief. This is the bridge, the way her mother’s eyes stared up at her unseeing. The way it felt like the wind had been knocked out of her like she fell. 

Vi pulls Caitlyn with her to the couch and draws her into her lap. Caitlyn goes willingly, fits herself around Vi and just weeps. She sobs ugly, guttural sounds Vi didn’t even think Caitlyn was capable of making. She soaks Vi’s shoulder and the crook of her neck. Vi can feel wetness travel along her ink. Vi’s tattoo was a promise wrapped in grief. Now Caitlyn adds hers to it. Vi imagines the pink tears turning the flare smoke violet. Her hope for her sister meeting the very real consequences of her actions. It all bears down on Vi’s shoulders. But Vi’s been training her entire life to cary the weight. If only someone will give it to her. Caitlyn chokes on a word and Vi cups the back of her neck. 

“S-she said—she said maybe I was strong e-engough to forgive,” Caitlyn gasps around sobs, “I don’t!” She lets out a wordless wail, “it hurts—“

“I know, I know,” Vi says. Caitlyn lets out a sound that might be a protest and starts to tense, “my parents,” she reminds her, “Enforcers.”

Caitlyn collapses back against her at the reminder. The fresh wave of tears spread to Vi’s spine and drag down her back along the tower. Down to the base of her spine like the base of the Lanes. Where she came from. Even though Vi has spent her entire life trying to go back to a place that no longer exists, she has gone home. And each time, each fucking time, she finds Caitlyn there. Each time Caitlyn hefts her over her shoulder and each time they fight their way out. She would have bet money the last time was the last time. But she thinks now if she were to run back there again, somehow Caitlyn would find her eventually. They would fight their way back together. Caitlyn takes another great gasping sob and lifts her head to look around at all of their sins. But Vi slides her hand up and guides her back. 

“Not now,” she says.

“But—“

“It’s not going anywhere.”

The guilt is a knot in her own stomach. She went along with this when she knew better. When she thinks back it makes her stomach crawl. Everything Vander said about being a leader rings false. Caitlyn was the leader but Vi feels the weight of their sins all the same.  She knows every paper that lays scattered around them. She pinned some of them up and told herself the feeling in her guts was guilt over what Jinx did. Not guilt over what she was doing. Jinx is the instigator but Vi was the shrapnel. Jinx builds the bombs and Vi hands her the crystals. And somehow Caitlyn is caught in that explosion. Jinx runs, Vi hunts and somehow the blood that winds up on the paper is Caitlyn’s. It doesn’t justify anything. Nothing can justify their actions. But the truth of it glistens up at her, bathed in the fire’s glow. 

Caitlyn weeps herself to the point of exhaustion. Until she’s too tired to do anything but rest her head against Vi’s shoulder and sniffle. She’s so tall but in that moment she feels impossibly small against Vi’s chest. Vi keeps one arm over her knees and the other curves around her shoulder, one hand by her elbow. The black turtleneck is pushed up and her pale skin is flecked with blood. Even though she has sobbed endlessly, tears still trickle down Caitlyn’s cheeks. The blood is dotted against her forehead. In a twisted way it almost looks like a crown. Or the edge of her beret. Caitlyn lets out another shaky breath but her inhale only has the slightest hitch.

“I thought she would stop me.”

Vi brushes her thumb against Caitlyn’s elbow. Her voice is faint and hoarse, she seems too tired to think about what she should say. The words just spill numbly out. Vi doesn’t know who is supposed to stop her. Before she can think to ask, Caitlyn squeezes her eyes shut and presses her face into Vi’s chest, her hand clenching the cotton. 

“She always stopped me when I went too far.”

Something in Vi’s heart cracks as Caitlyn dissolves into sobs again. She can picture Caitlyn’s mom so easily. The way she looked exasperated at Caitlyn staggering home dressed like that with a girl. Even then Vi got the distinct impression she was not the first girl Caitlyn brought in through the balcony. There had been love there. Even then. Even with all the wealth and privilege there was love between a mother and a daughter. But there had been something else. A string between them with a bead rolling towards Caitlyn. Caitlyn wasn’t just her mother’s daughter. She was her heir. Her mom didn’t just have to raise her, she had to make sure she was ready. She has no problem imagining Caitlyn’s mom looking at the map of Zaun Caitlyn concocted and scolding her for it. She’s dead, Caitlyn saw her body. And some part of her still believed her mom would appear when she went too far. 

“What would she say?” Vi asks as Caitlyn’s sobs turn dry and pained. Vi can feel the panic starting, “hey,” she says, trying to draw Caitlyn’s attention, “tell me what she’d say.”

“Really, Caitlyn” she mumbles into Vi’s shirt, “hasn’t this gone far enough?” Her breath hitches but she drags a proper inhale, “then she’d send me to go shoot while someone cleaned the mess up,” her fingers tighten in Vi’s shirt, “while she cleaned my mess up.”

Caitlyn can be so painfully young sometimes. Vi has spent her life vaulting over empty chasms with only the hard ground below. She has to land on the other side or her skull will be cracked open. That risk has never been a part of Caitlyn’s life. She’s always had safety net after safety net and somewhere below that is a soft mattress like one on her bed. The fear has never even crossed her mind. It’s never had to. As they sit there surrounded by Caitlyn’s blood and grief, it occurs to Vi that this might be the first mess Caitlyn has ever had to clean up on her own. Her father is a ghost, her mother is gone. Ambessa’s taunts are in the back of Vi’s mind. Her absence isn’t the only vacuum here. She sits with Caitlyn until her breathing is steady enough. No panic, no sobs. She stops rubbing her thumb along Caitlyn’s elbow and gives it a squeeze. Caitlyn shifts her head upwards. 

“Let’s clean this up,” she says. 

“No,” Caitlyn sits up and wipes at her cheeks, “no, I’ve asked enough of you. Gods—”

“Hey,” Vi puts her hand on her leg. 

Her fingers touch the scar she knows is hidden under Caitlyn’s pants. Caitlyn knows it too. She drops her hands into her lap. There’s fresh blood on her face now from her cut fingers. Her tears cut through some of it, but some of it stays. It makes the monster Caitlyn has become even more real. There’s no pretty lies here, no impenetrable facade. There’s just grief and pain and guilt. Vi uses her other hand to touch Caitlyn’s chin and bring their eyes together. The tears and the blood trickle along Vi’s knuckles. But Vi doesn’t care. Her hands have been bloody her entire life. 

“Lets do this together.”

Caitlyn hesitates for a moment and then finally gives a small, miserable nod. Vi pushes herself up before she can change her mind. They feed the fire with torn plans and photographs and bits of red string. Navigating on half memories Vi finds the small box and begins to drop the pins in. Caitlyn finds a bigger box and collects the pieces of glass. They work together quietly, mumbling warnings to each other when they discover something sharp. They work together and reveal the room hidden underneath the hunt. When the last pin is put away, the last sketch burned and the last piece of glass dropped in it’s box, the lean against the couch and look at the empty board. 

There’s still some glass dust on the floor, still drops of red, but it looks a lot better. Caitlyn holds the cracked magnifying glass against her thigh and rests he head against Vi’s shoulder. 

“It looks so strange,” she says quietly, “so—“

“Empty,” Vi finishes. 

The effects of the board still echo around the city. They will always echo around it. It seems unfair that what they planned here could have such an effect but this won’t. All the glass and blood and pins and the world outside the window is unchanged. Broken. Broken in the way that they broke it. But the board is empty now. Room has been made for something more. Something new. For the first time since she came back here, Vi feels something like hope start to churn in her gut. Her hand covers Caitlyns where it rests on top of the glass. 

The board is empty and there’s so much to do, but Vi lets herself wonder what they’ll put on it next. 

[willowwindss]

100 Inventions by Women

LIFE-SAVING/MEDICAL/GLOBAL IMPACT:

Artificial Heart Valve – Nina Starr Braunwald

Stem Cell Isolation from Bone Marrow – Ann Tsukamoto

Chemotherapy Drug Research – Gertrude Elion

Antifungal Antibiotic (Nystatin) – Rachel Fuller Brown & Elizabeth Lee Hazen

Apgar Score (Newborn Health Assessment) – Virginia Apgar

Vaccination Distribution Logistics – Sara Josephine Baker

Hand-Held Laser Device for Cataracts – Patricia Bath

Portable Life-Saving Heart Monitor – Dr. Helen Brooke Taussig

Medical Mask Design – Ellen Ochoa

Dental Filling Techniques – Lucy Hobbs Taylor

Radiation Treatment Research – Cécile Vogt

Ultrasound Advancements – Denise Grey

Biodegradable Sanitary Pads – Arunachalam Muruganantham (with women-led testing teams)

First Computer Algorithm – Ada Lovelace

COBOL Programming Language – Grace Hopper

Computer Compiler – Grace Hopper

FORTRAN/FORUMAC Language Development – Jean E. Sammet

Caller ID and Call Waiting – Dr. Shirley Ann Jackson

Voice over Internet Protocol (VoIP) – Marian Croak

Wireless Transmission Technology – Hedy Lamarr

Polaroid Camera Chemistry / Digital Projection Optics – Edith Clarke

Jet Propulsion Systems Work – Yvonne Brill

Infrared Astronomy Tech – Nancy Roman

Astronomical Data Archiving – Henrietta Swan Leavitt

Nuclear Physics Research Tools – Chien-Shiung Wu

Protein Folding Software – Eleanor Dodson

Global Network for Earthquake Detection – Inge Lehmann

Earthquake Resistant Structures – Edith Clarke

Water Distillation Device – Maria Telkes

Portable Water Filtration Devices – Theresa Dankovich

Solar Thermal Storage System – Maria Telkes

Solar-Powered House – Mária Telkes

Solar Cooker Advancements – Barbara Kerr

Microbiome Research – Maria Gloria Dominguez-Bello

Marine Navigation System – Ida Hyde

Anti-Malarial Drug Work – Tu Youyou

Digital Payment Security Algorithms – Radia Perlman

Wireless Transmitters for Aviation – Harriet Quimby

Contributions to Touchscreen Tech – Dr. Annette V. Simmonds

Robotic Surgery Systems – Paula Hammond

Battery-Powered Baby Stroller – Ann Moore

Smart Textile Sensor Fabric – Leah Buechley

Voice-Activated Devices – Kimberly Bryant

Artificial Limb Enhancements – Aimee Mullins

Crash Test Dummies for Women – Astrid Linder

Shark Repellent – Julia Child

3D Illusionary Display Tech – Valerie Thomas

Biodegradable Plastics – Julia F. Carney

Ink Chemistry for Inkjet Printers – Margaret Wu

Computerised Telephone Switching – Erna Hoover

Word Processor Innovations – Evelyn Berezin

Braille Printer Software – Carol Shaw

⸻

HOUSEHOLD & SAFETY INNOVATIONS:

Home Security System – Marie Van Brittan Brown

Fire Escape – Anna Connelly

Life Raft – Maria Beasley

Windshield Wiper – Mary Anderson

Car Heater – Margaret Wilcox

Toilet Paper Holder – Mary Beatrice Davidson Kenner

Foot-Pedal Trash Can – Lillian Moller Gilbreth

Retractable Dog Leash – Mary A. Delaney

Disposable Diaper Cover – Marion Donovan

Disposable Glove Design – Kathryn Croft

Ice Cream Maker – Nancy Johnson

Electric Refrigerator Improvements – Florence Parpart

Fold-Out Bed – Sarah E. Goode

Flat-Bottomed Paper Bag Machine – Margaret Knight

Square-Bottomed Paper Bag – Margaret Knight

Street-Cleaning Machine – Florence Parpart

Improved Ironing Board – Sarah Boone

Underwater Telescope – Sarah Mather

Clothes Wringer – Ellene Alice Bailey

Coffee Filter – Melitta Bentz

Scotchgard (Fabric Protector) – Patsy Sherman

Liquid Paper (Correction Fluid) – Bette Nesmith Graham

Leak-Proof Diapers – Valerie Hunter Gordon

FOOD/CONVENIENCE/CULTURAL IMPACT:

Chocolate Chip Cookie – Ruth Graves Wakefield

Monopoly (The Landlord’s Game) – Elizabeth Magie

Snugli Baby Carrier – Ann Moore

Barrel-Style Curling Iron – Theora Stephens

Natural Hair Product Line – Madame C.J. Walker

Virtual Reality Journalism – Nonny de la Peña

Digital Camera Sensor Contributions – Edith Clarke

Textile Color Processing – Beulah Henry

Ice Cream Freezer – Nancy Johnson

Spray-On Skin (ReCell) – Fiona Wood

Langmuir-Blodgett Film – Katharine Burr Blodgett

Fish & Marine Signal Flares – Martha Coston

Windshield Washer System – Charlotte Bridgwood

Smart Clothing / Sensor Integration – Leah Buechley

Fibre Optic Pressure Sensors – Mary Lou Jepsen

[ekingston]

Would you rather have you art or your fic go viral?

gosh golly anon going viral doesn't carry the best of connotations, but as much fun as creating art might be my heart will always be more invested in the things i write. so allow me to ply my wares here for a shameless moment:

Multi-chapters

You & Me & Holiday Wine (M)

The Shape of Soup (M)

One-shots

By Way of Wit (M)

Be Still My Beating Heart (E)

Penne for your Thoughts (G)

Oh Oh Oh (I’m on Fire) (T)

Liar Liar Plants on Fire (G)

Tickled Ink (T)

Falling Is Like This (T)

Pastels, Pining & Public Displays (T)

Likewise (T)

[icycoldninja]

hey so i was thinking: Sparda Boys and V with a writer S/O? take as long as you need to with this (writer's block is kicking my ass rn sadly but) , i don't really mind

Hey I feel that bro, enjoy and hopefully your inspiration will return to you 💜

Sparda Boys + V x Writer!Reader headcannons

¤ Dante ¤

-He's not a scholar and knows next to nothing about books since he rarely reads, but if his sweetheart is writing stuff, by God, he will read whatever they put out there.

-Uses you as a human dictionary whenever he comes across new words, not understanding that that's not the purpose of a writer.

-"Hey babe, what's this word?"

"What word?"

"Uhh...Ink-Can-Dress-Ant."

"What?"

"Ink-can-dress-ant, I think that's how you say it."

"How's it spelled?"

"I-N-C-A-N-D-E-S-C-E-N-T."

"Incandescent, Dante, not ink-can-dress-ant."

-He'll be the first to read your work and is very proud of this fact. He, Dante, the Legendary Devil Hunter, is also your private beta reader. Awesome.

-Oddly enough, him reading all your works results in him developing a larger vocabulary--something that shocked everyone, especially Vergil.

-Congratulations! Thanks to you, Dante can use big words now!

■ Vergil ■

-You, a writer, are dating Vergil, the biggest bookworm on the planet? You are now Vergil's goddess.

-He wants to read everything, regardless of its quality. He'll visually devour all the words off the page, absorbing every word.

-You two now have yet another topic to nerd out about; you can spend hours chatting about books, writing techniques, and so on.

-Vergil is filled with a sense of pride whenever he reads your published writing; it pleases him so much to know you're growing your talents.

-He has an entire bookshelf dedicated to your books and takes special care of these books. They're more than just words on pages bound by cardboard and leather; they're treasures.

-Will take up writing as well, just so he can be closer to you.

□ Nero □

-Nero is not a bookworm by any sense of the word; he's read a few books in his time, but he's more combat oriented.

-Doesn't mind being a beta reader for anything you write.

-Your works have inspired him to take up reading again, and in doing so, he unleashes his inner book nerd. Like father, like son.

-He's always looking forward to whatever you write, and when you get writers block (as we all do) he'll take you out to a park, or a peaceful lake, in the hopes that the natural beauty of your surroundings might restore your creative juices.

-He, too, has a collection of all your works and keeps them proudly on display on a nice bookshelf in his house.

-Encourages you daily to keep writing because now he's addicted to reading your work. You really have changed him.

● V ●

-Oh congratulations, you've found yourself a soul mate.

-V loves to read (he totes his copy of William Blake poetry around and reads from it all the time, even in the middle of battle) and is more than happy to read your books.

-V is also a writer himself; he writes poetry, as we know. Because of this, he understands more than anyone the pain of writer's block and knows just what to do about it.

-He'll arrange for a relaxing movie/reading night, which in his experience, helps restore your creativity.

-If that doesn't work, Griffon's loud mouth and wise-guy (yet funny) jokes will take your mind off of things.

-V understands literature and knows all sorts of obscure things about famous literary figures; so much so that you two can converse for hours on end just gabbing away about books, their authors, and other interesting tidbits of knowledge.