#a bit of a contrasting red/blue moment

[persistent-wallflower]

@demonrunningwild tagged me to do a favourites moodboard. That was fun, thanks! <3

If you wanna do this, tagging: @msva9 @senjukannon @privateschoolfeline @forxstboyfriend

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[robo-dino-puppy]

horizon forbidden west | aloy 12/?

[pucksandpower]

hiii! with the chaos that was today’s career, could I request one with driver reader that she started telling her team that she wasn’t feeling good but still wanted to continue but the next moment she isn’t answering her radio because she fainted in the car and the car goes out, the marshals take her out of the car and she doesn’t wake up, maybe she has extreme dehydration and is hot to touch, etc.

How the other drivers react when they found out, her team, etc.

Thank you

Too Hot To Handle

Max Verstappen x Red Bull driver!Reader

Summary: the Qatar Grand Prix pushed every driver to the limit … and some past the limit

Warnings: heat stroke, dehydration, crash, medical conditions

The Lusail International Circuit hums with electric anticipation, its asphalt ribbon shimmering under the floodlights. The roar of the crowd fills the night but the oppressive heat weighs on everyone, creating a contrasting atmosphere of excitement and cautious apprehension.

Standing alongside your Red Bull Racing car, you wipe a bead of sweat from your brow. In only your first year with the reigning double champions, you already have a record that has quickly become the talk of the paddock. But for all the praise and whispers, there is one voice that stands out.

“Remember, liefje, it’s not just about speed tonight. Keep hydrated, alright?” Max’s voice is full of warmth and concern. His hand rests gently on your arm.

You flash him a confident smile even though you’re battling your nerves internally. “I’ve raced in heat before, Maxie. I won in Singapore. I’ll be fine.”

He pulls you into a quick embrace, the temperature doing little to dampen the spark between you. “It’s different here. This heat ... it’s like nothing I’ve ever raced in before.”

Pulling back, you raise an eyebrow teasingly. “You worried about me, Verstappen?”

He laughs but there’s a hint of steely seriousness in his blue eyes. “Always. Just ... promise me you’ll be careful out there. For both our sakes.”

You nod, touching your helmet to his. “Promise.”

The intercom in your ear crackles to life. “Drivers, to your cars!”

You both exchange a final glance. Racing is in your blood, it’s what brought you together, but it also keeps you apart, if only for the few hours you’re no longer partners in life but competitors on track.

Sliding into your car, you secure your helmet and gloves. The world outside becomes a bit muffled but your focus sharpens. The engine’s purr is a familiar comfort, but tonight, it’s edged with the unease Max’s words left behind.

Your race engineer, Hugh Bird, checks in over the radio, “Everything good, Y/N?”

You take a deep breath, “As good as it’ll ever be. Let’s light up this track.”

“Give them a show.”

Lights out and away we go.

***

The Qatar Grand Prix unfolds with its usual mix of intensity and skill, drivers navigating tight turns and overtaking with precision. But beneath the spectacle, a subtle tension mounts. The oppressive heat, the stark floodlights, and the weight of expectation — all of it seems to be building to something.

In the garage and on the pit wall, your team closely monitors the race and your performance. Hugh occasionally chimes in with updates, “You’re doing great, Y/N. Remember to hydrate whenever you need to.”

You nod even though he can’t see it, “Understood. The heat’s something else in here.”

A pause. Then, “Just keep stead. And Max told GP to tell me to tell you to remember what he said.”

A smile touches your lips, “I always do.”

***

The track is a blur as you push your car to its limits, feeling the adrenaline surge in tandem with the roar of the engines. It’s as if the heat has seeped into your very core, burning with intensity. Each lap feels slightly longer, every turn a tad sharper, as the humid air takes its toll.

“Y/N,” Hugh radioes through, sounding distant and slightly distorted by the pounding in your head, “you’re P2. Great pace. Remember to sip some water.”

A trickle of sweat runs down the side of your face, stinging your eye. Blinking rapidly, you reach for the button that activates your hydration system.

“Got it,” your voice sounds foreign even to your own ears. The water is lukewarm and tastes metallic, not as refreshing as you had hoped.

“Just keep doing what you’re doing,” he urges.

With every lap, the world outside your visor seems to grow brighter, the floodlights shimmering like mirages in a desert. The race has become a battle, not just against other drivers but against the environment and, increasingly, against yourself.

“You’re dropping pace. Is everything alright?” Hugh’s concerned voice crackles through.

A knot tightens in your stomach. “I don’t know. I ...” You trail off, the words catching in your throat as a wave of overwhelming dizziness hits.

You can hear the alarm in your engineer’s voice becoming more pronounced. “Y/N, talk to me. Do we need to pit?”

The heat wraps around you, constricting, making it difficult to breathe. Your hands, slick with sweat, struggle to grip the wheel even through your gloves. “Guys ... I don’t ... feel ...” The world spins and your words falters.

“Y/N? Y/N, talk to me!”

But before you can respond, before you can even finish your sentence, the world tilts and blurs into an incomprehensible whirlwind. The sweltering heat, the relentless pursuit of victory, and the weight of expectation converge into a maelstrom that engulfs you entirely.

Your hands, once deftly steering the RB19, now hang limply by your sides. The car veers off the track, careening towards the barriers. Panic rises in you but it’s too late. Your body refuses to act.

The deafening sound of metal against metal fills your ears, followed by the nauseating sensation of impact. The world outside your cockpit twists and spins, a kaleidoscope of colors and chaos. Then, abruptly, it all goes dark.

In the garage, your team watches in horror as the monitors show the violent crash. The radio falls silent, the connection severed. In that heartbeat, the world goes eerily quiet, punctuated only by the distant echoes of screeching tires and the blaring alarms.

Moments pass like hours and finally the static on the radio clears, replaced by your frantic race engineer, “—please respond. Y/N? Are you okay?”

But there’s no response. Your world remains shrouded in darkness as the circuit comes to a standstill, gripped by an eerie silence that drowns out even the most deafening of cheers.

The track is plunged into chaos. Red flags wave fervently, signaling danger. Marshals rush towards your wrecked car, their fluorescent jackets contrasting brightly against the night.

“Get her out! Get her out!” One of the marshals shouts as they reach your car. Your limp form is carefully extracted and they begin immediate first aid. The severity of the situation is clear — the heat, the dehydration, it’s all taken its toll.

The crowd watches, a collective gasp filling the air soon replaced by a thick, heavy silence. As your unconscious form is stretchered away, the weight of all those warnings crashes down.

Back on the pit wall, four words whispered into the radio are the first of many about to turn your boyfriend’s world upside down.

“Safety car, safety car.”

***

“Max, we’re pitting this lap. Box, box,” the calm, steady voice of Gianpiero Lambiase, Max’s race engineer, instructs over the radio.

Max’s voice is curt, his mind still on the race. “Why? Tires feel fine.”

“Non-negotiable. Safety car is out. We need you to pit now.”

The urgency in GP’s voice is not lost on Max and he immediately senses that something is wrong. “What happened? Why is there a safety car?”

Silence follows for a heartbeat too long. “There was an incident. Just focus on your race.”

An icy dread seeps into Max’s bones. The circuit is massive yet his world feels terribly small at this moment. “Who was it? Who crashed?”

His engineer hesitates, and in that pause, the weight of a thousand possibilities presses on Max.

“Who. Was. It?”

GP wavers, “It’s … Y/N.”

Max’s breathing becomes ragged. Panic and fear flood his system. “Why the hell wasn’t I told immediately?”

“It was team orders. The decision was made to keep you focused on the race.”

Max laughs but it lacks any humor. “Team orders? You’re saying Christian decided not to tell me that Y/N ... my Y/N is hurt?”

“Yes,” the reply is uncharacteristically soft, “It was believed to be in everyone’s best interest for you to be fully focused on the race.”

Max has never felt such white-hot rage. He spits into the radio, seething with fury and pain. “You tell Christian that if he ever makes a decision like that again about someone I love, I’ll cut his balls off with a rusty spoon.”

“Max, I understand you’re upset. But right now, we need you to stay focused.”

Stay focused? When the love of his life is in potential danger? The weight of what that means presses down, threatening to crush him. “I need to see her,” he finally rasps out, voice breaking.

The plea hangs in the air, met by another long silence. Finally, the radio clicks on again, softer than ever. “Y/N would want you to finish. You know that. Win this for her.”

Tears blur Max’s vision, mixing with the sweat already pooling in his helmet, but he nods, a silent assent. The roaring engine now sounds distant, the glinting lights a backdrop to the storm that rages within him. Every second is an eternity, every turn a test of his resolve to keep racing. But Max drives on, pushing his limits for you.

Every fiber of his being silently screams your name, a prayer or a promise or both, Max doesn’t know. All he knows is that the faster he crosses the finish line, the sooner he can be with you.

For the world watching, the race continues, cars whizzing by. But for Max Verstappen, each lap, each second, is a race against his own heart, torn between duty and desperate love.

***

“Her pulse is erratic! Get the defibrillator ready!” A medic shouts as the emergency team frantically works around you, the ambulance parked haphazardly nearby.

Another voice, calmer but filled with urgency, counters, “Wait, give her a moment. She might come around.”

“Come on, Y/N,” A young medic mutters, pressing an oxygen mask to your face. “Don’t do this.”

The ambulance door opens again, the head medic speaking into a radio, “We need an airlift, now. The situation’s deteriorating rapidly.”

Another voice, muffled, replies, “The helicopter’s on its way! Clear the area.”

As the medics continue to administer aid, working desperately to stabilize you, the chief medic tries to maintain order, “Every second counts. This heat stroke is severe, coupled with dehydration ... it’s a nightmare scenario.”

“We should have had more cooling stations,” the younger medic mutters. “The humidity coupled with the heat ... it’s brutal tonight. And we’re not even the ones out there driving.”

The older medic takes a deep breath. “That is on the organizations. We can’t fix there mistakes but we can focus on what happening now and do everything we can to get her through this.”

The thrum of helicopter blades soon overwhelms the noise of the circuit, growing louder as it approaches. Soon, the bright light from its landing spotlight punctuates the night. “The helicopter’s here!” Someone shouts.

“Alright, team, on three,” the chief medic commands. They work in perfect sync, lifting you carefully but quickly, your body still unresponsive.

As they approach the helicopter, the pilot shouts over the roar, “We’ve got the best onboard. She’s in good hands.”

“She’s one of our best,” the younger medic shouts back. “She has to be okay.”

The chief medic, securing you inside, murmurs more to himself than anyone else, “Come on, Y/N. The race isn’t over. Keep fighting.”

***

“You expect me to smile and stand on that podium knowing she’s been airlifted to a hospital?” Max’s voice trembles with rage as he confronts the FIA officials blocking his way.

“Mr. Verstappen, there are rules, procedures,” an official replies stiffly.

“Rules? Y/N might be fighting for her life right now and you want to talk to me about rules?” Max’s hands clench and unclench as he physically holds himself back from throwing a punch.

Another official steps forward, trying to mediate, “Max, we understand your feelings but millions of viewers are watching. The podium is an essential part of the race.”

Max’s eyes flash with anger. “You think I care about a trophy when my girlfriend is in a hospital? Do you really think that piece of metal means anything to me right now?”

“We sympathize— ” the first official begins but is cut off by Max’s heated response.

“You sympathize? Do you even know what that word means?” He’s on the verge of breaking, voice barely above a whisper as he continues, “She is everything to me. Everything. And you want me to smile and wave for the cameras?”

The air grows thick with tension. The two drivers from McLaren waiting for their cue to go to the podium are silent, their eyes darting between Max and the officials.

A new voice interjects , “Let him go.”

It’s Lewis Hamilton, who despite DNFing early in the race, made his way across the paddock after seeing the distress on his rival’s face. “There are things more important than a ceremony.”

The officials exchange glances, clearly not expecting this intervention. But before they can reply, Max levels them with a final scathing look. “Fine me if you must! Penalize me! Suspend me for all I care! But I am going to her.”

And off he goes.

***

A nurse at the desk recognizes Max immediately when he runs into the hospital. “Mr. Verstappen,” she begins hesitantly, “Miss Y/L/N is in the ICU. Room 302.”

He doesn’t need any further prompting to sprint down the hall. Reaching the room, he stops dead in his tracks. You’re there, surrounded by machines that beep and whirr, tubes running to and from you, an oxygen mask on your face. The sight of you, once so full of life, now frail and vulnerable, breaks him.

His voice, when he finally managed to finds it, is a choked whisper, “Y/N ...”

Approaching the bedside, Max gently takes your hand, feeling its clamminess. “Hey, liefje ... it’s me,” he murmurs, pressing a tender kiss to your knuckles. His tears fall freely, wetting the back of your hand.

“Come on, love,” his voice cracks as he continues, “You’ve got to pull through this. For us.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, tracing the familiar curves and lines he’s come to adore. “Remember that time in Monaco? When we snuck out for that secret dinner that our trainers would have killed us for? We promised each other forever that night. You can’t leave me now. Not when we’ve got so many more memories left to make.”

The room’s silence is punctuated only by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor in a cruel reminder of the fragility of the moment.

“I love you so much,” he murmurs. “Please ... please come back to me.”

Leaning in, he rests his forehead against yours, allowing the weight of his anguish, love, and hope to flow between the two of you in the sterile room.

***

Nothing has changed. The steady beep of the heart monitor still punctuates the silence of the hospital room. Max sits vigilantly at your bedside, his hand gently clasping yours.

It’s been three days since the crash and you still have not woken up. The doctors say your condition is stable but uncertain.

Max leans in close and presses a kiss to your forehead. “Morning, liefje. I’m still here. Not going anywhere.”

He brushes a strand of hair from your face, his touch impossibly gentle as if you might break. In the stark hospital lighting, the dark circles under his eyes are visible. Sleep hasn’t come easy to him, not with you lying here.

A soft knock at the door draws Max’s attention. Hugh pokes his head in hesitantly. “Hey, Max. Any change?”

Max shakes his head, swallowing hard. “Nothing yet. But she’s fighting. I know she is.”

Your race engineer steps further into the room, his expression solemn. “I should have seen the signs earlier. Pushed her to hydrate more. Slowed her pace.” His voice catches, “It was my job to look out for her.”

“This wasn’t your fault,” Max says firmly. “Y/N is stubborn. We both know that. She wanted to prove herself.” A ghost of a smile touches his lips. “It’s what makes her brilliant.”

Hugh pulls up a chair on the opposite side of the bed. For a moment, the two men sit in pensive silence. Then your race engineer speaks again, softer this time. “Has she ... has she responded at all? Squeezed your hand or anything?”

Max clenches his jaw and stares past Hugh at the blank wall. “No. Nothing yet. But I know she can hear me. I tell her about training, the team ... I update her on everything. She’ll want to jump right back in when she wakes up.”

Footsteps approach and a nurse enters, checking the equipment and your vitals. After making some notes on a chart, she offers an encouraging smile. “No change but she seems stable. Just keep talking to her. Familiar voices help.”

After she departs, Hugh leans forward, clasping your still hand. “Hear that, Y/N? You’ve got to wake up. The team needs you. Your fans are all rooting for you. And ...” His voice cracks. “I need my driver back.”

Max looks at him gratefully. “We all need her back.” Reaching out, he gives your race engineer’s shoulder a comforting squeeze.

Another knock sounds. This time, it’s Christian. His face is etched with guilt and worry. “Max. Any improvement today?”

Max’s expression hardens. He hasn’t forgotten Christian’s decision to withhold news of your crash. But his voice remains even as he responds to the team principal. “Nothing new.”

Christian pulls up a chair next to Hugh. He chooses his next words carefully. “Max, I need to apologize. I made the wrong call that night. You deserved to know immediately about Y/N. My priorities were skewed.” His voice shakes slightly. “Seeing her like this ... I would give anything to go back and change what I did.”

Max studies him for a long moment and some of the hardness leaves his eyes. “I appreciate that. But right now, the past doesn’t matter. All that matters is her getting better.”

Christian nods. Reaching out, he gently smoothes your hair. “You hear that, Y/N? We’re all here for you. Your whole team. Now you need to come back to us.”

A heavy silence settles on the room once more. The three of them remain clustered around the bed … keeping vigil … willing you to show any small sign of recovery.

After some time passes, the ringing of Hugh’s phone snaps the three men out of their thoughts. “Sorry to interrupt,” your press officer’s voice filters through the speaker, “but the team’s on the line. They want to send their well wishes to Y/N.”

Hugh glances at Max questioningly who nods, “Patch them through. Let the whole team remind her why she needs to wake up.”

A smile tugs at your race engineer’s lips. “You got it. Go ahead, team. She can hear you.”

A chorus of voices floods the room. Your mechanics, pit crew, strategists, PR team … everyone chimes in with encouraging messages.

“Come on, Y/N! We need our star girl back on the grid.”

“You can do this, kid. You’re the toughest one out there!”

“We all believe in you. Keep fighting!”

Max grips your hand tighter, emotions threatening to spill over. Even Christian and Hugh have sheens of tears in their eyes.

“Alright,” your race engineer says after the team signs off. “You heard them. Time to wake up.”

And that’s when Max feels it. A short, weak squeeze of his hand.

Then your eyelids begin to flutter.

“Y/N?” Max leaps to his feet, leaning over you anxiously. “Can you hear me?”

Slowly, painfully, your eyes open, taking in the scene around you. Confusion clouds your expression. “M-Max?” You rasp.

A brilliant smile breaks across Max’s face. Relief floods through him so powerful that his knees nearly buckle as he chokes out, “Yes, yes it’s me! You’re back, liefje. You’re really back.”

Hugh lets out a shaky laugh, scrubbing a hand across his face. “Welcome back, superstar.”

You try to speak again but Max hushes you gently. “Save your strength. We’ve got all the time in the world to talk.”

Christian grins, looking years younger. “Oh thank god. I need to tell the team. They’ll be thrilled. Welcome back, Y/N.” He hurries from the room, phone already in hand.

Your race engineer squeezes your shoulder. “Get some rest. We’ll all be here when you wake up.”

As he and the nurse move discreetly out of the room, you gaze up at Max. “You ... you stayed.”

Max lifts your hand to his lips, blinking back tears. “Of course I stayed. I’ll always stay by your side.”

He leans down, pressing his lips against your chapped ones. All the fear, the uncertainty, the heartache of the past few days melts away.

You’re back. You’re really back. And Max knows, without a shred of doubt, that your lives from this day on will be greater and more meaningful than all your wildest dreams.

***

In the following days, drivers from across the grid make the pilgrimage to your hospital room. They come bearing gifts — flowers, balloons, even a nearly life-size plush race car. But more importantly, they come bearing a message.

“That race should never have happened,” Lewis says solemnly, handing you a get-well card covered in signatures. “The heat was dangerous. We should have acted sooner.”

Esteban grips your hand tightly. “I’m sorry, Y/N. We should have spoken up about the conditions sooner. We all suffered but you suffered most.”

“Your crash woke us all up,” Lance adds. “No trophy is worth risking drivers’ safety even more than we already do each race.”

You’re moved by their solidarity but sigh knowingly. “The FIA would never have listened to just one driver saying something. But maybe they’ll listen to all of us.”

Max’s jaw clenches, residual anger simmering beneath the surface. “They have to listen. We won’t race in unsafe conditions again.”

The other drivers nod, They know the power that you all wield together and for the first time in a long time, you are going to use it.

In a show of outspoken unity, the GPDA drafts a strongly worded letter condemning the lack of caution around extreme heat and demanding tangible changes to make sure drivers aren’t put in avoidable jeopardy.

All twenty of you threaten to strike.

To your surprise, the FIA not only apologizes for the oversight but pledges to implement the requested changes immediately.

“Your crash was a wake-up call,” the FIA president says solemnly during a visit to your hospital room. “We should have protected you better. That will never happen again.”

When he departs, you let out a long breath, leaning back against the pillows. The anger and hurt from that night haven’t disappeared entirely but you feel a sense of hope, that some good has come from the experience.

Max clasps your hand between both of his. “What you went through is unacceptable but you used that to make the sport safer for every driver out there. I’m so proud of you.”

You give him a tired smile. “We did this together. All of us.”

He presses a kiss to your forehead. “Get some rest. When you’re better, we’ve got plenty more checkered flags to take. Side by side.”

The long road to full recovery still lies ahead. But with Max by your side, and all the drivers behind you, you know everything will be okay.

The race goes on but it will be a safer race thanks to you.

[honeydazai]

୨୧·࣭࣪̇˖ sending them suggestive pictures while they're at work

feat.: Dazai, Chūya, Ranpo, Fukuzawa, Fyodor, Sigma

content: nsfw, female reader, spanking, sexting, oral sxx, masturbation, semi public

It's not unusual for DAZAI to tap away on his phone during work hours, so no one — except for Kunikida, who still hasn't given up on glaring — pays it any mind when his smirk widens at his screen. What remains a secret, however, is that he's not looking at some funny tweet but instead at your tits, the blue lace of your bra making for a pleasant contrast in colour.

He's awfully smug about the whole ordeal, really; also, who is he not to play along? He definitely sends you not only some appreciative words back, but also a picture of his own, featuring either his hands — he does know that you're quite fond of his fingers, after all —, his face — because you can never complain about that! —, or his by now half-hard dick, pressing against his trousers, even though taking soft nudes borders on workplace indecency. Oh, and your pictures are definitely saved and stored away on his phone for later usage.

[new message from Dazai] “someone's needy, harassing me during work hours! just kidding bella!! you're so cute xx stunning too! how am i supposed to listen to kunikida any longer when you're so so pretty? :( ill call out sick, be there in 20 x”

CHŪYA really doesn't expect to see anything but a picture of a dog you saw outside or of a particularly pretty flower when he spares a brief glance at his phone during a Port Mafia meeting. It's already disrespectful, though he doesn't plan on anyone noticing the miniscule action — that is, until he all but chokes on his coffee at the photo of you, legs spread wide, two fingers deep inside of yourself, wearing not only his favourite lingerie set, but also one of his ties.

He tries hard to ignore the way everyone stares at him when he, all too abruptly, excuses himself to the bathroom, his face bright red. In the safety of a stall, he really can't do anything but shove his trousers to his knees, one hand immediately closing around his dick while he types your number into his phone with his free one — and while he might snap at you, oh so flustered, he's also so damn turned on that he can barely focus on anything but the sound of your voice and your photo.

“Fucking Hell, babe—, God, with how Mori was looking at me, I bet he knew what was up. Fuck—, send me another one, please, I'm so damn close, ah—”

Business meetings aren't RANPO'S favourite way to spend time. They're awfully boring, making him huff and sigh when he has to sit through them — though this one gets a lot more interesting the moment he clicks on a text message from you. He raises an eyebrow at the sight of your panties, pure lace and hiding not even the slightest bit just how wet you are, thighs glistening, though that's about all the physical reaction he's going to show. The fact that his dick strains against his trousers is no one's business.

He is, however, quick to text you back, amusement dripping from his messages, and if Fukuzawa wasn't already watching him with sharp eyes, he'd sneak away to the bathroom to call you. For now, you'll just have to do with sexting — this meeting is going to go on for a while, especially if he won't soon start contributing, and he's unfortunately got better things to do.

[new message from Ranpo] “having fun without me? youre so mean. at least send me more pics im dyin g here... maybw bend over or— ooo i know, we bought that toy a while ago, right? why don't you use that one for me, doll....”

FUKUZAWA sucks in a sharp breath the second his eyes fall onto your form clad in nothing but one of his yukatas, and even though he attempts to remain calm, he's already blushing, arousal churning low in his stomach. Really, he was just trying to take a miniscule break from all the paperwork he's facing — besides, the cat ringtone signaling your message did sound rather urgent! —, though now he's not certain whether he can focus on it again.

He ends up typing “This is most inappropriate.” in response, though he never sends it, instead replacing it with a “You look stunning.”, only to never send that one either. In the end, he just quits work a little earlier that day and hurries home faster than he'd ever want to admit, cheeks still flushed with arousal when he joins you in bed, immediately slotting himself between your pretty thighs, long fingers spreading your folds apart and into your cunt to prepare you — only to realise you've long done that yourself. How convenient. He might reprimand you a little afterwards, though both of you realise it's not to be taken seriously. When he's honest with himself, he rather liked that photo — and he'll definitely keep it.

“That was awfully inappropriate. Darling, you know I enjoy getting to hear from you during the day, and yet — what? I didn't mind you wearing my clothing in the slightest. I was worried about someone from the Agency seeing the picture. In fact, wear my clothes again whenever you feel like it. Please do. You looked quite irresistible.”

It's almost unfair just how seemingly unbothered FYODOR is. When checking his phone during a Decay of Angels meeting, aware that you know not to contact him except for important reasons, he merely glances at the photo lewdly depicting your raised skirt and the curve of your behind before putting it back into his pocket. Really, it's downright adorable that you're attempting to tease him — you should know better by now, darling.

While he doesn't bother with a response, he certainly makes sure to pay attention to you when he returns home. And, oh, the next time you want to toy with him, he sure hopes you remember this very moment, of you bent across his lap, his hand coming down ever so often on your butt, on the soft skin of your upper thighs, making you cry out with every slap. The marks, at least, will serve as a nice reminder, especially when you keep forgetting to thank him for every hit.

“There we go, dear. Ah, ah — don't cry now. This is what you wanted, is it not? My undivided attention — and you certainly have it, now. Which number were we on again? Tell me, darling, or we will have to start over, I'm afraid.”

The second SIGMA spares a quick glance at his phone, only to stumble upon a rather revealing picture you just sent him — and, God, 'rather revealing' is an understatement when he's able to see just how wet you are, thighs spread for the camera —, his face heats up significantly, earning him some odd looks from the other men he's currently in a meeting with. In a desperate attempt to regain professionalism, he clears his throat, trying to simply continue, but it's as if every thought has been erased from his mind and was replaced by you.

When getting home that evening, he's calmed down considerably, cheeks still warm with the memory of you being this bold, though his sudden calmness might just change when you expect him in that exact same position, legs wide apart, the smile on your face teasing — and who is he not to end up on his knees in front of you, tongue flattening against your cunt while both of you let out breathy moans? In the end, he's all but begging you to return the favour.

“Ah, God, I'm close. At least finish me off, please—, you were really cruel today, dear. Make it up to me? Please? Oh, fuck—”

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[queenie-the-court-jester]

pucker up buttercup

Yandere florist x reader

Tw: mentions of physical abuse in sexual settings, implied drugging and somnophilia, stalking, implied possessive behavior and controlling nature, mildly nsfw. Not proofread 🌺

🌷Benny was the quiet kid of your school. You didn't know much about him, except he was a good student and apart of the gardening club. That was all, but Benny? Oh he knew you very well..

🌷you were stunning. You had such amazing hair that he wanted to play with every night before going to sleep, those stunning beautiful eyes that always ghosted over his form in the cafeteria, and your voice that always managed to make him rock hard down there

🌷 recently your family had gotten a wide assortment of flowers for an event. Thinking they were pretty, you asked for the florists name or any social they might have. They handed you a card with the info, and with that you looked up the account on Instagram.

🌷 scrolling through their posts you found a familiar face you'd see every day in the school halls. What was his name again? Benjamin? Beanie? No.. oh yeah! Benny! You didnt know he had such a good eye for aesthetics, especially flower arrangements. But that has to be expected since he spends all his time gardening

🌷the next time you saw him, you walked right up to his table on campus grounds. A bit far from the other outside lunch areas. He froze when he saw a familiar pair of shoes, looking up at you slowly with those big blue eyes

"you're a florist right?"

"y-yes..?"

"how much for a dozen roses and half a dozen tulips?"

🌷you became a regular after that. He'd wait anxiously every day for you in the plant nursery after school. He always gave you such cheap prices, claiming you were his friend and he only did favors for them. You thought he was sweet, so when you heard rumors about him being caught sneaking around the girls locker rooms and stalking a classmate? You shrugged it off,most likely empty gossip

🌷if only you paid attention to the red flags sooner.. you would have realized Benny's real nature. When he asked you out prom night, you agreed, he was sweet and you weren't seeing anyone at the moment. Who knew, maybe this would be the start of a beautiful relationship?

Pros with Benny:

🌹atleast he's a very generous lover. Spoiling you with what he could afford, since he came from humble beginnings he's always wise with the money you both have

🌹 he's completely devoted to you! Never looking at anyone else with love or lust, always worshipping you both in bed and outside it

🌹you learn new things. Like natural remedies, plants and their names, their usefulness to make nearly everything. Even drugs (He's vegan.)

🌹he wants to settle down and raise a family with you as soon as you graduate college! He gets tipsy and love drunk thinking about it too much. He'd make an excellent father. Kind of.

The cons:

🥀 randomly, he'll get very aggressive in bed. Biting you till your skin bleeds, slapping your chest and ass, degrading you with the most vilest words. Not to mention he seems to really like choking you till you almost pass out

🥀he doesn't know how to take no for an answer, he'll go scarily quiet and his eyes will turn dull. A complete contrast to how he usually is. Surely a little intimidation will make you change your mind no?

🥀 he's possessive with your time and love. If he ever notices you staring at anyone a little too long, who isn't friends or family he knows of, you bet there'll be missing person posters by the end of the week

🥀he forbids you from going into the basement. Saying it's his private nursery and you should respect his privacy, even if he doesn't respect yours

🥀 randomly you'll feel sleepy after Eating anything he makes you, growing drowsy and the last thing you can remember is feeling clammy hands hastily unbutton your pants and shirt

[coryosbaby]

We need part 2 of that sub!coryo pls 😩😩

ᴛʜᴀᴛ’ꜱ ʜᴇʀ ᴅʀᴇᴀᴍ, ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴘᴏᴘᴜʟᴀʀ !

synopsis: Coriolanus will do anything to get to the top, right?

content warning . Power dynamics, edging, bondage, use of toys (ballgag + vibrator), degradation and praise . Dom! Reader, sub! Coryo

Notes: subcoryosubcoryosubcoryo !!! <333

He comes to you at midnight.

The walk to your apartment from Coriolanus’ own is not far, a mere few blocks over. When he gets there— knocks, greets you like the polite boy he is— he begins to unbutton his shirt. It’s an immediate demand from you, something that he suspected you would want the moment he walked through the door. He slips off his shoes, his suit, his ratty overused shirt. He looks away shyly, as if he’s not one of the most gorgeous men to ever walk the earth. It’s as if every ounce of his ego leaves the moment he enters your room.

He slips his underwear down his legs. Crawls onto your silky expensive sheets. You watch with a pleased smile, peeling off your red slip to bare your body to him. He gulps, his eyes never leaving the spot in between your legs.

You straddle him, just above his knees, not quite touching his cock yet. He bites his lower lip and blushes like a schoolgirl.

“Have you been a good boy?” You ask him, with precision. With calculation. With practice. He nods, and although he’s nervous like always, he grabs your perfectly manicured hand. He brings one of your fingers up to his mouth, suckles it with his soft pink tongue.

“Yes.”

You let him taste your digits for a little while longer, let him get used to this headspace you’ve taught him to embrace so openly. When he pulls the digits out of his mouth, your hands move up to stroke his blonde curls.

“My uncle has been treating your family well, I hope?”

Your uncle is one of the men you referred Coriolanus to, as a reward for letting you use his body for his own pleasure. The boy finds that he may like this situation a lot more than he thought. Your cunt is exquisite, your way of fucking so primal and raw. He’s completely infatuated with it. And the way you treat him, the way you care for him in such a way, makes him forget. Makes him forget his responsibilities, his past, his worries. He can let go when he’s with you, in more ways than one.

With fluttering lashes, he nods. His tongue brushes over his lip as he watches your naked cunt in between your legs.

“Very well.”

“And what do we say, for someone going out of their way to get you that position?”

He playfully lifts the back of your hand up to his mouth, and presses a kiss to it with soft, plush lips.

“Thank you, mistress.”

—

It’s not long before you’ve got the boy tied up. Red rope contrasts against pale white skin as the boy’s wrists twist and turn in the restraints. It was his idea, this bondage technique that leaves him completely helpless, and you know once again that the boy is a lot darker than you anticipated.

He’s got a vibrator pressed to his swollen, aching cock, held to it by an elastic band that’s just a bit too tight around his skin. A blue ballgag sits in between his pretty lips, and it’s caked with drool and spit. You lean down to lick it up, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you turn off the vibrator for a third time tonight. Tears pool on the boys crystalline lashes, a small whimper leaving him when you turn the device back on again with the remote in your hand.

“So handsome like this, Coryo,” you praise him, your nails scarping against his bare thigh. “Like a pretty painting. I’d love to keep you here forever.”

Coriolanus wouldn’t mind that, though he’s scared to admit such a thing to you. His hips thrust against the vibrator as you continue speaking to him in that sweet tone.

“You know I want to let you cum. But we need discipline. Don’t we, darling? We need to be patient, to work hard for what we want.”

He nods. He understands perfectly, and you don’t think you’ve ever had a boy in your bed so obedient. It’s not what you originally anticipated, given Coriolanus’ selfishness and greed. But you assume that his need to please has to form somewhere— and you’re so glad that it has formed in your bed.

You’re aroused to no end, watching him struggle. Your fingers move down to rub your swollen clit between your fingers. Coryo’s eyes focus only on that movement.

You can see him getting close again, can see that familiar twitch of his cock right before his release. You turn the toy off again. He cries out, his wrists pulling against the restraints vigorously. He’s like an animal, twitching and moaning. You know that if he somehow releases himself from those ropes that you won’t be able to stop him from fucking his cock into your drenched heat.

He tries to say something through the gag, but you ignore him. If he really needed to tell you something, he would knock on the wood of your headboard. You stick a finger inside yourself, swirling your release around and getting the digit nice and wet. Coriolanus can’t completely part his mouth due to the ballgag, but there is an open space on the sides that gives you access to the inside of it. You stick your finger in that space, rub your wetness on the inside of his cheek. His tongue can’t taste it due to the ballgag pushing it down, and he has no choice but to leave your slick there, untouched.

The tears fall harder now.

It goes on like this, his release being denied again and again while you spread your cunt to him and get him all desperate and hot. The tip of his cock is so red that it’s almost purple.

Until it comes to one point, when the boy can’t seem to take it anymore. His orgasm hits before you can even notice it, and his cum squirts out of his cock in thick, heavy streams. You turn the vibrator off mid orgasm, and he flails helplessly as his high is ruined. He sobs through the gag, begging you to let him cum again, to let him feel you. Your cunt has been neglected for so long that you can’t help but say yes.

You remove the vibrator from him, taking note of the faint line from the band cutting off a bit of circulation. You rub him with your palm to get him all squirmy again, let his cock sit proudly against his stomach for a second time. You straddle his thighs, grabbing his cock from underneath you and positioning it at your entrance. His head tilts back, his breathing uneven and heavy. You sink down onto him with ease.

His cock is so thick, so long, and it fills up your cunt perfectly. Your thighs bounce up and down on him, your wetness leaving a creamy ring around the base of his cock, and the boy can’t do anything but take it. He wants to touch you so badly, to feel your tits that are practically bouncing in his face. But he knows that the feeling of being helpless, of not being able to move, makes the restraints all worthwhile.

Your ass slaps against his thighs as you ride him, the feeling of his heavy balls hitting you making you quiver with arousal.

“So good,” you moan out to him, as you watch his pretty, blushing face. “Oh, coryo. Your mistress is so proud of you.”

He whimpers, and wants to say thank you, but to no avail. You pull him in for a kiss. It’s an odd one, because of his lips being spread apart by the gag, but you do it anyway. You bury your face into his neck and reach down to rub your own clit. Coryo watches with a glazed, fucked out expression. You can feel yourself getting close, your cunt clenching down on him. Coryo desperately tries to hump against your pussy, tries to aid in getting you there, to that special peak that only he can bring you. His thrusts are weak, however; he’s close himself, the overstimulation now giving way to something incredible. He knows he’s going to fill your cunt to the brim.

“Coryo,” you groan out, desperate. “I’m gonna cum. Gonna cum around your fat cock. Do you want that, sweet boy? Do you want your mistress’ cum?”

He nods, fucking his hips up eagerly, as if to say “give it to me. Give it to me now.”

And you do. That coil in your belly snaps, white hot heat coursing through your veins as you ride out your orgasm. Coryo’s cock kicks at the feeling of your pussy squeezing him, and he practically screams as his second orgasm washes over him. Your cunt milks him with everything it has, his warm spend kissing your cervix and leaving you satiated.

When you slow, the boy’s eyes are closed and he’s breathing shallowly. He must be tired, so incredibly tired.

His used, softening cock slips out of your hole when you move off of him. His cum drips sticky strings onto the bedsheets below you, and your filled hole gives you content.

Your fingers gently undo the ropes around Coryo’s wrists. He groans as his sore arms are finally able to relax, his eyes still shut as he moves in and out of a post orgasm sleep. Your hands remove the ballgag, too. You move the objects off the bed and watch as the boy curls up on his side. You find it quite endearing, and you smile.

After you clean up, pee, and find a new pair of pajamas to sleep in, you slip into bed. Coriolanus has never stayed the night before, but there’s always a time for firsts, right?

Soft snores leave his mouth, spit leaking from the corners of his mouth. His body turns over, and his head rests gently on your tummy. He sleepily mumbles, something almost incoherent but you understand anyway.

“Thank you, mistress.”

[aquickstart]

i need to talk to you guys about the colors of the Cattons (Felix specifically) and Oliver. the clothes they are wearing are telling the story of Oliver taking over and leaving his mark throughout the whole movie, with Oliver's failures and successes and a final triumph. holy shit. get in. this is long and ends in ancient greek culture trivia. let;s talk please.

disclaimer: am starting from Oliver's arrival at Saltburn. before that the outfits are also very intentional, but it's a lot more complicated and it has been discussed before. the world distorts once we are at Saltburn and the story gets truly gothic there, and every detail—including color!—is enhanced in meaning. also, special thanks to @kivlaro for doing this with me, the thoughts on this specifically and the Saltburn craze on the whole. pics and detailed analysis under the cut!

let's start from the beginning. here is Oliver at the door. simple, blue shirt.

the shirt is sort of its own character. logically it makes sense as Oliver's suitcase is small and he spends the whole summer there, of course he'll rewear stuff a bunch. but it is blue.

in contrast to Felix, in yellow. yellow is one of Felix's colors (he is the sun, which i've talked about here btw, so this makes sense).

same to Pamela, in blue. first time we see her, she is next to Elspeth, wearing the color that is Oliver's, taking the place that he takes right away, in this very scene. the only other time she is physically present on screen is at dinner, in black and white, and black and white are a blank slate. she is stripped of color and gone very fast.

a bit of crucial data for later: Oliver, in blue, and Felix in pink. pink is very important on Felix. this is their first morning together. they are separate and opposite, solid, contained.

where it starts to get good is the morning after the vampire strike.

Venetia is a Felix extension, just as everyone in the house is to Oliver. i will eventually rant about Saltburn as a whole entity and Cattons as aspects of one self, and Oliver as psychosis, but not here. so, yes, Venetia is a pink riot, a euphoria of self-containment because Oliver gave her a piece of something she felt she lacked to feel whole (validation, attention, care), not a piece of blue, of himself. Oliver is expectedly solid blue. Felix is incredibly interesting and something i didn't pay much attention to at first: predominantly blue, incredibly upset at Oliver for ditching him, with a tile of bright red (on the left! close to heart! over-reaching here but like still!), which still tracks. i mean, really, if i had so much foreign color bleed into me and then abandoned, i'd be pissed, too. nice little touch is sir James' beloved hydrangeas, behind Felix, also pink, very pink, always pink; i don't think i've seen them blue in the movie, although the sort exists.

Farleigh. sweet baby Farleigh i love you. I'm not dead-set on my interpretation of this specifically but i think multiple things are happening with Oliver and Farleigh here. like Rent, which is their song, blue is their color of outsiders and the triers to fit in. Farleigh points out the favoritism and preference of Oliver to him and his mother here, so it may also be appropriation of color to draw attention to Farleigh as almost (but never quite) Oliver. it may also be as simple as that Farleigh, as much as he denies and resists, still retains Oliver's influence, which bleeds into him very slowly.

a nice little moment of Felix wearing blue swim shorts with just tiny specks of a pink pattern. Oliver's shorts also have a bit of pink, but less than Felix's. Oliver is pretty good at remaining unaffected and uninfluenced overall.

and we're getting to where it all clicked and started for me. the Quick family house, the failed reconciliation, and the immediate aftermath. oh it's so good.

on the drive there, Oliver is blue, Felix has a pink polo shirt with a solid blue pullover over it. this is the most blue Felix has ever been (this is the most blue he will ever be!), this is trust. however shaky and toxic it is, Felix loves Oliver and accepts him into his world. as a side note, Oliver's parents are also very blue, mom more so than dad. nice!

and then it crashes. immediately after, it's the evening of the same day, but Felix is not wearing the blue pullover anymore. this is very, very important. this is rejection. it's the end for Oliver in Felix's world and with his trust. Felix, again, in solid pink, Oliver in solid blue. Felix successfully rips him out with the roots and everything. ouch.

daddy. sorry. is that highlighter? sweat? fuck. let me- daddy. SORRY

no i actually have a point about this.

the clothes are replaced by the lights, but we roll with it. Oliver basks in the blue-green light, while Felix is on the other side, in pink and purple and red. sure, blue shines through, and Oliver also walks through the slashes of pink, but it is mostly pretty separate, Oliver watching Felix's pink in his own blue from a distance.

the morning after palette is deep. the wine color that is so prominent in these scenes is fascinating to me. if i were to over-reach again i'd say it's the Oliver in Felix's attributes and in his place that requires the robe to be so dark, not usual definite pink, because deep blue has leaked into the color itself, mixed with it, made itself integral to the shade. but it's also just a nice color, and it is pink in its core. the flowers (with sir James in the background) i think are also this specific shade for the same reason. you look at what remains of Felix everywhere here, and it is his color.

and finally oh the lunch scene. the last supper. the judgement day. the who's afraid of virginia woolf madness.

i think we've established what's up with Oliver, but i also think it's important that he is his own color at lunch but in Felix's pink/wine right before and after. lunch is where he attacks, whereas before and after is where he grieves and enjoys. Farleigh is almost completely blue save for a strip of the same deep pink, and he is soon cast out, and Venetia is striped, blue and pink/salmon, affected deeply by Oliver yet still clinging on to the Catton pink with grief, probably, but also love for Felix.

and after all this, Oliver leaves himself.

no, like, actually, literally himself. sure, he'd got a taste of the Cattons and the pink, but he is a monolith, a solid blue when he leaves Saltburn. he has not been affected by the house, he has taken what he wanted but stayed true and whole. what a power move, honestly.

but it's an even bigger deal that 16 years later, Elspeth runs into Oliver wearing all white and a blue scarf. oh, she's not let this go, alright; it was a long time ago, "but not to me," she says. What Oliver has been up to in that time is a great question, without a doubt he's been keeping tabs on the remaining family as much as he could; but Elspeth has never moved on, either. She has held on to Oliver's blue and the pink is not important at all now. Oliver, of course, is invariably, unwaveringly blue. welcome back to his show.

and welcome back to his triumph.

the only color (except for, again, white and black) we see him wear in the flashback about Saltburn inheritance is the all-too familiar deep pink. wine. bright pink mixed with deep blue.

now i will take a liberty and step back, over-reach, over-interpret and go insane. here's a fun bit on ancient greek culture trivia for you.

this is an interesting and complicated historiographical and linguistic debate that i will not even attempt to relay here, but the essence of it is this: for us, the sea is conventionally deep blue. historically, one of the most prominent civilizations considered "deep wine" to be the descriptor for it (not necessarily the color but the property. highly rec to look this up it's so fascinating). what it gives me here is that Oliver has changed color, but not his self. he has integrated, mixed, but persisted, completely winning over, triumphing. long live the king!

in conclusion, i would just like to propose "colors" by halsey as the next cattonquick anthem. thank you for your attention, please let me know your thoughts. yours, yes, you. cheers. god. peace out

[ode2rin]

warning: heavy angst | death

“did you notice any movement?” were the first words that escaped shoko's lips as she entered the room. she didn't spare a single glance for her friend, gojo satoru, who seemed to be spending every second of his life peppering kisses on your hand.

gojo muttered something under his breath, but shoko couldn't care any less to clarify as it was followed by a humorless chuckle from the white-haired. must be one of his antics, shoko thought.

with her back still turned to the couple and still preparing antibiotics, shoko continued, “are you sayin’ something? step aside, i have to check on them.”

“...ten fifty-four.” he whispers.

“what?”

“it's ten fifty-four.” gojo repeated, his tone now laced with a raw, undeniable heaviness. “you have to write that down, right?”

shoko froze.

the monitor. 

she’s not hearing any sound coming from the monitor. the oppressive stillness in the room bore witness to a harsh truth that shoko had failed to acknowledge.

slowly, she turned to face gojo, and the sight of him made her wish she never turned around.

in the sterile confines of this hospital room, amidst the delicate balance of life and death, even a seasoned doctor like her found it nearly impossible to discern who was more lifeless between you and gojo. 

he had his blindfold hanging around his neck, the dark fabric a stark contrast to the white-painted walls. his eyes remained fixed on your lifeless body, holding your right hand against his cheek as though he clung to it as the sole remnant of your presence.

gone was the once radiant luster that danced in his blue orbs. in their place, all that it houses was emptiness. his eyes were red-rimmed, on the precipice of tears, and his lips bore the stain of blood, as if he bit down with all his might to stifle the screams that clawed at his throat.

“it used to be the warmest place i’ve ever been. and now, it’s cold, shoko. it’s too cold,” gojo mindlessly muttered, and it didn’t take long for shoko to realize that he was referring to your hand resting against his cheek.

shoko felt her heart sink even deeper at his words. but she couldn't give up now; she had to try. she needed to say something, anything – because she had failed once before, and failing again was a fate she couldn't bear as a friend.

“they are with you, gojo. forever – they are with you. you are not alone,” shoko hurriedly assured him, her words a desperate attempt to offer comfort.

gojo responded with a humorless chuckle, his grip on your lifeless hand gentle as he kissed your fingers one by one. then, he turned to his friend, his eyes devoid of the spark of life.

“look at me, shoko,” his voice was devoid of emotion, as if he had given up on the very idea of feeling. “ this is the second time you and i are here. so, what does this make me if not finally alone?”

as gojo's words hung heavily in the air, shoko found herself at a loss for how to respond. she turned her back and bit her lip as she reached for that chart she dreads to fill out once again.

he’s right. shoko was there as much as she’s here. she remembers december 24th as much as she will remember 10:54 am.

and most of all, shoko will forever remember how cruel fate is to bring gojo and her to this moment once again — with him at the bedside and her tasked with recording yet another time of death.

note. don't mind me posting an old draft bec i'm happy rn !!!!!! i won the election so here's a lil somthing inspired from that one grey's scene :D will get back to all of you soonest !!

[sttoru]

LOST IN YOUR EYES !

ෆ sypnosis. your lover’s bangs cover most of his eyes and stand in your way whenever you want to admire them. you take matters in your own hands and find a way past that barrier to admire his eyes properly.

ෆ note. based on this anon request. thank you for the amazing idea bb! hope you enjoy. not proof read. this includes headcanons + small drabbles (below cut)

ෆ tags. blade / jing yuan x gender neutral reader (written with female reader in mind, however no pronouns used), fluff, reader gets referred to as cute/adorable in jing yuan’s part.

BLADE !

genuinely doesn’t even know why you’d like to stare into his eyes in general. blade doesn’t look much into a mirror, however since meeting you and hearing your kind comments about them, he’s started to secretly look more at his eyes whenever passing by his reflection.

blade does this out of pure confusion, because he fails to understand why you’d like his uniquely red and yellow coloured eyes. no matter how many times he tries to put his mind to it—your reasoning is impossible to comprehend. he just labels your comments about them as weird.

blade got a bit defensive when you first started to move his dark blue bangs to the side with the excuse of wanting to see his eyes. he’d swat your hand away in the beginning. though, slowly and surely, he got used to that habit of yours.

“again?” blade sighs with his arms folded over his chest.

he had been strolling around with you and the sun was setting, the orange sky making his eyes glow and seem even more ethereal to you. especially due to the gold hue in them which shone brighter than ever.

“please? just stay still.” you pout, putting on your best puppy eyes. that antic normally never works on blade for some reason; he’ll show zero reaction to your pleading. if he’s in a better mood than usual, he’ll glance at you and then nod at best.

“for me?” you add in a desperate attempt to get your lover to comply.

blade silently looks over at you. there was not an ounce of change to be seen on his cold face, yet you noticed the subtle flicker in his eyes. one that no other person could have spotted. you had spent enough time admiring his eyes to memorise every little detail about them. from how they’d look when he’s mad to how they’d look when he’s in a (rare) content mood.

you knew your pleading had finally broke through his hard shell.

“…” blade stops in his tracks and turns his body to you, letting his arms fall to their sides like you’ve won him over. it’s the most vulnerable he’s been with anyone.

you stood there with your mouth slightly agape at the beautiful scenery, including the man in front of you. the wind blowing through blade’s long hair and the way he’s standing so relaxed—it was almost an honour to see that view.

“i’m not going to stand here all day. come.”

you immediately went over to blade, standing in close proximity to his body. you carefully brushed his bangs to the side and looked into both of his gorgeous eyes. blade was staring right back at you, not blinking even once.

“incredible..” you admire him out loud as your thumbs graze against the smooth skin of his temples.

blade doesn’t utter a word and lets you do what you want to. he can’t deny the unfamiliar yet tugging feeling in the pits of his stomach. the one feeling he’s been trying to repress to not make the same mistake twice.

all he could do in that moment of vulnerability was accept the power you had and will continue to have over him.

JING YUAN !

is probably fascinated by your wish to look into his golden orbs. jing yuan, in contrast of blade, thinks it is pretty adorable of you. he won’t question your actions and just goes along with whatever you desire of him. the general is a fool for you.

jing yuan won’t even mind it if you do it in public. he’ll bend his head down a little to give you access to his face. but, don’t blame him if he has his hands on your waist or hips in the meantime. you being close to him while looking into his eyes is considered something romantic according to him.

be prepared for kisses to be stolen from you. you’ll be in such a trance, too enamoured by his eyes to even notice the strategy the general was planning. that strategy including all the ways he can have you close enough for a ‘surprise’ kiss.

jing yuan was staring back at you with a soft smile that reached his eyes, his arms wrapped around your waist while you laid on his bare chest, “are you having fun, dearest?”

it was just another lazy morning with the two of you cuddled up in his cozy bed. jing yuan, who was spared from his duties today, woke up to you playing with his hair. specifically, the light grey-ish locks that covered one of his eyes.

“mhm,” you hum, the soft sound of delight being jing yuan’s weakness, “you’re so pretty.”

you always tell him that. it was the truth and you simply wanted your lover to know how good he looks. no matter what he’s doing—whether it’d be sleeping, working, fighting or eating—jing yuan’s handsome looks were mesmerising.

your kind words earn a deep chuckle from your partner, sending vibrations through his chest, “well, thank you.”

jing yuan’s calloused hand cups one side of your cheek while your own hand held his bangs to the side. now both of his eyes were staring back at yours. you enjoyed jing yuan’s loving gaze that scanned your entire face in search of a perfect place to kiss.

the light streaming into the room between the gaps of your curtains made his skin glow and his soft yellow eyes more vibrant. they shone like valuable golden ores which mankind could only dream of witnessing.

jing yuan held onto the back of your head and guided your lips down to meet his in a kiss. a surprise kiss so romantic that it had you melting into his touch in an instant.

after you pulled back, jing yuan could easily spot the embarrassment on your face. he’s glad that his antics still have that effect on you.

“my love,” the general sighs in content, the pad of his thumb gently stroking the skin beneath your right eye, “you’re so easy to catch off guard.”

and he loves you for it.

[marlshroom]

while combing through mob psycho to find clips for my amv i am making, i noticed a small difference in the way ritsu and mob remember what happened after the highschool bullies attacked them.

when we see mobs flashback, the story is a bit scattered, flashing through mostly static moments loosely pieced together from his hazy memory. the high schooler's faces are hard to make out. the color palette is very washed out, with the core colors being white and desaturated blues, with the red being the most vibrant color, because the key part of his memory is the blood.

[ID: Mob Psycho 100 screencaps showing flashbacks to Mob and Ritsu's childhood accident. The first four are Mob's POV, and they're colored in a glowy blue and white, with Ritsu's blood the darkest and only other spot of color in the scene. We see Mob trying to stop Ritsu from yelling at older kids, Ritsu lying on the ground with a pool of blood seeping from under his head, and Mob looking lost with blood on his cheek. End ID]

in contrast, ritsu has a very clear telling of what happened. the moments are not as static, he remembers what color shirts they were wearing that day, he knows what caused mob to black out, for ???% to wake. the color palette is much more saturated.

[ID: The next four are Ritsu's POV, and they're slightly hazy but in full color. We see Ritsu and Mob struggling while the older kids grapple them, followed by Mob hitting his head against a wall. Ritsu shouts with distress, and black energy and red light suddenly flares up from behind where the bully shoved Mob into the wall. End ID]

i think the contrast is very interesting, especially since both retelling of events happen in the same episode (season 1 episode 5 i believe, where teru is trying to fight mob). one of them has an extremely poor memory, mob can really only infer what happened, he even asks ritsu what he did when he was knocked unconscious. and while ritsu claims that he doesn't remember much of it, his mind is basically plagued from this memory, as much as he would probably like to forget. he thinks about this any time mob is faced with stress. i don't think this was a very groundbreaking discovery, i just love moments like this where i can see how hard people worked on this show and the amount of detail they put in,... they could have very easily just repeated the same flashbacks from mob and add some more contextual shots from ritsus perspective but they chose to make that distinction.... so awesome.

[hero-the-meep]

Colour theory. The 60th Specials have this gorgeous colour palette of reds and blues and greens throughout. But what do they all mean?

Donna spends much of the specials drenched in red – her fiery copper hair, her pink and red jumper, the warmth of her house as the Doctor looks in from the cold, blue night, of the vortex, and of flames.

In many scenes, she's in fact the only source of warmth in frame.

The Doctor's palette is, of course, blue, and he starts his journey very blue prior to stripping off his long, solid overcoat to reveal brown and blue tartan (a mixture of both the Doctor's he's been) and white (a carte blanche that can throw to any colour).

Red and blue, the Doctor and Donna. These are our two primary colours for the Doctor and Donna as individuals. But it doesn't stop there.

Donna often throws red to the Doctor.

Or they share a frame of equal parts red and blue.

But more often than not, the Doctor casts Donna a sickly blue green – not in the moments of peril Donna chooses, like her choice to remember the mind of a Time Lord to save her daughter, but the moments of peril that truly make Donna afraid.

Staring out into the black nothingness of space without stars at the edge of the universe, so far from her family. Being confronted with herself. Half-remembering the Doctor with her daughter in danger, because of her (perceived) failure.

At her most afraid, like when the Doctor is genuinely angry at her, encroaching in her space, she wraps her body in her dark green jacket, a futile attempt to self-soothe. On an RGB colour wheel, green is our third primary colour.

Whereas the Doctor, at his lowest points, is drenched blue.

But where do they end up?

In glorious lavender purple and natural green with flickers of red and brown and yellow and blue.

Purple is a secondary colour, an additive of red and blue. Purple complements green. Green and red add to yellow; add a bit more red than green and you get brown. Yellow complements blue. Red and blue and green are triadic colours – high contrast, bold and vibrant, spaced evenly on the wheel.

Because their ark is not just for Donna to take on part of the Doctor, but for the Doctor to take on part of Donna as well. They are the Doctor and Donna, human and Time Lord, man and woman, travelling and at home – all these things and both and more, binary not-binary, a circle, complete.

Compare and contrast to season three and four.

Donna's colours are deep, jewel-toned reds and purples and blues, analogous colours. She's a bright, discordant blot in a sterile office. She's resplendently human in Pompeii. But by the end, she's adopted a long, brown coat, with just a hint of purple peaking out from a singlet top under all those layers. During Turn Left, never meeting the Doctor slowly sucks her colour to grey almost (but not) completely.

And when the Doctor takes her memories he returns her sans-jacket. Deep jewelled purple again.

The Doctor splits into a Doctor brown and a Doctor blue. One home, with a family. One travelling, alone. A bittersweet – not a happy – ending.

Now is their happy ending.

[gglitch1dd]

Claim (Alpha Eijiro x Omega Reader)

Day 3 of Breedingtober

<<MASTERLIST>>

The zombie Apocalypse is never a great place for an Omega, but Eijiro appears in your life making it a bit easier.

Warning: This chapter does depict signs of domestic abuse and intimidation done to reader BUT NOT DESCRIBED, GUNS, Shooting, Undead, OMEGAVERSE, ZOMBIE APOCALYPSE AU, SMUT, KNOTS, slick, cum, BREEDING KINK, praise and slight degradation, blow job, deep throat, mentions of saliva, BLOOD, biting CROSS OVER ALERT- Kuroko no Basketball (this is unnecessary to the story plot, I just needed characters. If you have read my story Ikigai, you'll be pretty familiar with the layout of the camp and other shit)

9,6k words

Eijiro paused as he waited for anything to happen, anything at all. He took a moment before motioning forward. The group moved forward, rifles out as they neared the motel that seemed otherwise unoccupied from the outside, however the boarded up windows were a concern that would be tackled in the moment.

Katsuki paused at the look of the old motel. Despite the apocalypse, it looked pretty good, stable, for a building that had survived the apocalypse. He glanced to his right from the tree he stood behind. “Sero.” He voiced out lowly.

Sero swallowed down hard as he looked through his scope. The tall lanky Beta was up in the tree tops, having stayed out of sight and higher up in the foliage to ensure that if they did have any enemies that were alive, they wouldn’t see him. “Its dark. I don’t see any movement inside.”

The blond glanced to the giant red head beside him. The large Prime Alpha was quiet for a moment as he surveyed the area for another second. He nodded. “On my lead, Izuku and Shoto watch our six.” He stated simply as he moved forward past the tree line towards the back of the motel.

The back door didn’t seem boarded up or nearly as crowded. There weren’t any undead in sight, and if they were, they had a bullet hole in their head that suggested that they weren’t a threat. Eijiro stood in front of the door, Katsuki staying to the left side of the door pointing his rifle so that if the door opened and there was someone inside he could have access to the right side of the room, while Mina did the same on the right side. Eijiro took a moment, before trying the door handle. It was locked.

Of course, it was.

Eijiro hardened his hand, crushing the lock with ease and opening the door. Inside he was met with darkness. He was quiet as he moved to feel for a light switch. Right as he felt the switch he smelt a scent. Recent. Too recent to not still be in the room. Just as he switched on the lights there was a loud bang sound.

“Eijiro!”

Katsuki and Mina immediately both had their riffled aimed inside the room as the sound of a bullet clattering to the ground was heard. The room was heavily silent. There were six people in the room from what Katsuki could tell but that didn’t matter because they all had their eyes on Eijiro. Eijiro had hardened his head, and with a sort of metallic sound, he was back to normal. Not a scratch on him.

He let out a breath as he looked around the room. “And this is why I go in first.” He let out truthfully.

“I thought you shot that guy!” A red haired man said as well. His hair was a ruby red and short with eyebrows that sort of reminded Mina of Tokoyami’s head. He held a gun up as well as he looked to his comrade who had fired the shot.

The Alpha hadn’t taken his eyes off of Eijiro for a second, dark blue eyes with matching colour hair. His tanned skin contrasting favourably with his hair as he held the gun with a trained grip. “I did, Kagami, unless you didn’t notice that the guy can turn into a fucking rock.”

There was another tall one with green hair and matching eyes, he adjusted his glasses as he looked at the intruders with a judgemental and analytical look in his eyes. “Then shoot one of the others.”

Eijiro took a step forward, putting everyone else on edge. “I wouldn’t advice that, pal.” He let out roughly as he frowned at the glasses wearing one. “Lets be civil about this.”

“Civil my ass.” The blue one scoffed with a low underlying growl. He snarled over at them. “You trespass on our grounds and you wanna be civil.” Katsuki scowled with a low growl, however that wasn’t what had Aomine so irked. Aomine, the blue one, let out another growl. “And this giant rock isn’t even looking at me.”

“It’s because he’s smart.” A man who sat in a magenta chair spoke out as he had Eijiro’s full attention. Although he was shorter than the other Alphas in the room he had an air of dominance and control that clearly showed who had the most amount of power here. His gaze was heavy on Eijiro but Eijiro didn’t back down. The large redhead held his gaze as if he had nothing better to do. Akashi scoffed but smiled, as he pushed himself off the chair. “Akashi Seijuro, Head Alpha of the Generation of Miracles.” He spoke leisurably.

At this point, Katsuki had motioned for Shoto and Izuku to come inside to make the playing ground more fair. “Kirishima Eijiro, Head Alpha of Pack A.” Eijiro responded.

Akashi put his hands behind his back, not a gun on him as he walked to stand in front of Eijiro. “Why are you here? You’re not dead yet, which means you’ve survived long enough to have your own resources. So why come here?”

Eijiro looked around the room. He shrugged not feeling particularly up to answering. “Truthfully, we were bored.”

His answer caused the other Miracles to growl. At the sound of their growling, Katsuki, Izuku and Shoto returned it. Akashi put a hand up that stopped their growling. He frowned at the taller Prime Alpha, his presence imposing on him. Unlike Akashi, there was a hierarchy here now that waws upset because of Eijiro’s appearance. As the only Apex in the room, it meant that he was at the top. And that never set well with Akashi because he was always at the top.

Eijiro sniffed before his eyebrows raised slightly. He sniffed again as he looked towards a large purple haired Alpha that seemed to be blocking something. Something that smelt much too sweet to be an Alpha’s scent. His eyebrows twitched as he felt his Alpha stir at the scent.

Akashi didn’t like that.

“Let go of me!” You whined as you pushed against Murasakibara, the larger than life purple haired Alpha that looked rather tired and drained. He looked a lot like Shinso in that aspect. “I wanna see.”

He looked back to you with a low growl as you were stuffed in a corner behind him. “No, Y/N-chin. Aka-chin said no.” He reasoned.

You let out a low hiss, your scent turning sour in anger. “Seijuro!” You shouted from where you were. You dropped to the flow, peaking from behind the tall Alpha’s legs to look at the Head Alpha of your group. That’s when Eijiro first saw you, with a frown on your face and determination in your eyes. Eijiro’s Alpha perked up at the sight of you. You were the most beautiful Omega he had ever seen in his life. You frowned as you looked to the Alpha who didn’t even look at you, who was too busy scowling at Eijiro’s attention on you to notice much of your anger. “Seijuro, tell him to let me go.”

“Y/N, I told you to get in the other room with Tetsuya and you didn’t listen.” He reminded you, when you had first spotted Pack A from outside.

You rolled your eyes. “They’re people, Seijuro, just like we are.” You reasoned as you put a hand to your chest. That didn’t seem to sit well with the other Alpha at all. You rolled your eyes as you turned to look up at Eijiro, your eyes looking up at him with something he wasn’t entirely sure what to call. “Excuse me, Head Alpha Kirishima,” You spoke with your head slightly down and exposing your neck towards him. At the sign of respect and submission, Eijiro couldn’t help but find you looking even more tempting. An approving rumble left his chest, showing that he was willing to listen to you. Akashi motioned for Murasakibara and Kise, who were the closest to you in your group, to block you out of sight, which made you let out a small yelp. At the sound Katsuki glanced at Eijiro who scowled at Akashi.

With another hiss you somehow managed to bully your way out from their grasp. “I swear I will bite your knots off!” You glared at the two of them for trying to stop you. The both of them lifted up their hands in surrender as you glared at them. You then turned back to Eijiro. Akashi, moved to block your path, showing he didn’t want you moving closer to the other Alpha. You frowned at him, but obeyed him as your Head Alpha. “Head Alpha Kirishima, tell me, is your pack based near here?”

Eijiro’s gaze eased at the sight of you. He nodded. “Yes, it is. Maybe a day’s walk away but nothing that can’t be tackled. Just further out of the city.”

You hummed as you nodded your head at that information. He could tell that slowly you were releasing your sweet scent into the air to try and calm things down and decrease the tension. As the only Omega in the room, Eijiro was appreciative of your actions. “How many pack members?”

“Twenty-One.” He answered simply.

You perked up at the number and glanced at Aomine with a pointed glare. It was a wordless exchange with the large blue haired Alpha but he scowled and looked away with a tsk. He knew what you were trying to tell him. If he had killed Eijiro, you all would have been way too over your head with the group you were dealing with.

You turned back to look at Eijiro. You swallowed down heavily before looking between Akashi and Eijiro. “It’s futile fighting it’s futile trying to kill each other. How about we talk about a possible alliance or maybe even… merge.” At the mention of your suggestion, Akashi let out a low growl at you. His magenta eyes bore into you with almost malice at the thought. You lowered your stature slightly but stood your ground. You took a step closer to him. “We need it, Seijuro.” You whispered to him before turning to Eijiro. “Humanity is better together than separated. Don’t you think, Head Alpha Kirishima?” You asked.

Eijiro hesitated as he saw Izuku and Katsuki glance at each other before glancing at him. Eijiro let out a heavy breath as he thought on it for a moment. “More people mean more mouths to feed, it means more noise, it means more attraction from bad people or the undead.” He explained.

“It also means more hands to help and more eyes on the ground.” You rebutted. Eijiro’s eyebrow twitched with a slight smirk. You shrugged. “Its better to have packmates than uncertain friends.”

Eijiro looked to Katsuki. The blond Alpha looked up to him before looking over at the group in front of him. Then his eyes looked to you. Then he looked to Eijiro. Eijiro looked over to Izuku. The green haired Alpha glared at the opposing side but then looked to his Head Alpha. He huffed but kept his grip on his rifle. Eijiro looked to Akashi but answered to you. “I’m willing to discuss.”

Akashi scowled.

You smiled. “Wonderful! Please, it’s late and its past sunset. Stay the night.” You encouraged, happy to see new faces as you looked around to all of them brightly. Your packmates were not so bubbly.

It took a long time for the negotiations to be met and for either side to be somewhat happy. You also got to learn all their names. You learnt quickly that the pink woman’s name was Ashido Mina, she was a beta and she was very extroverted and lovely. Although the other Omega in your group, Kuroko Tetsuya wasn’t so eager about her extervertedness, you didn’t seem to mind. Then there was the other Beta in the group, and Mina’s partner, Sero Hanta. He was nice and rather laid back and didn’t seem bothered by the Alphas in the room. Then there was an Alpha similar to him, Todoroki Shoto. From then you realised that they were all old heroes from before the world went to shit. Shoto was just as you remember him from all the girls that had crushes on him, stoic and quiet. Then there was the loud Alpha that you knew from the tabloids, Bakugou Katsuki. The blond was trigger happy which was a bad combination with Aomine and Kise but they were pretty satiated easily.

Then there were two Alphas that peaked your interest. First was the green haired Alpha with freckles on his cheeks and a dangerous yet friendly look in his eyes that could change at any moment. Midoriya Izuku. At first you thought the Alpha was a rather friendly a passive person, and you weren’t too offput by his presence, but you realised the undertones of a prime Alpha in him. It was clear that he wasn’t trying to present himself as such and yet he carried a presence to him. Then lastly was the Alpha that you couldn’t help but keep your eyes on, Kirishima Eijiro. He was the largest out of their group, pure muscle and an absolute tank of an Alpha. Although he was friendly to you, always looking deep into your eyes as if he could read you like an open book, he held a firm presence to him that told you why he was Head Alpha. Even when you went to bed last night, in a room upstairs with Tetsuya, you couldn’t help but think about him.

How large he was. How deep his ruby eyes were. How sharp those teeth were that could puncture into your neck so easily.

It was such thoughts that plagued your brain. You tried not to think about them as the next day you had a lot of walking and relocating to do. You were quickly ushered to putting on your scent blockers along with Kuroko because of how dangerous it was for Omegas now in this new world. Zombies were drawn to Omega’s scents like flies to a carcass. It was horrifying how one sniff of the scent could send them all barrelling towards the closest Omega first. So you had to be careful and under the radar as you travelled.

The best part of travelling is that everyone had to be quiet in order for it to be successful and for you all not to attract attention, which meant no fighting of the two opposing groups. However, Eijiro was right as the further you left from the city, deeper into the woods, just a days walk, did you reach large walls made out of metal and wood that blocked out anything from the outside, it was well hidden too which was a good thing. With a wave from Eijiro, you were all allowed inside into the large compound.

At the sight and sound of bustling people working around the area, you couldn’t help but feel excited and almost nostalgic at the sight. The camp had one side with a river as its border so that there was a constant source of water. The sound of the river seemed to numb most sounds of the people inside making it a great noise canceler. It almost seemed like it used to be a camping site, with cabins and a cafeteria too. Of course, there were newly built structures too and tents too, but it was functional, and it was working and it was beautiful.

You were quickly introduced to the pack and to the few other Omegas that were there, and you were put into a cabin with some other Omegas, away from the Alphas in the Miracles for the first time in a long time. It was almost relieving to have your own space again in some sort of way. And you also had a hot meal. You hadn’t had one in a long time, but you did have one.

You were happy in this new camp with all these new people too.

You sat on a tree stump around one of the fires that were lit to keep people warm. You looked up at the stars, looking at how bright they were without the city lights and all the pollution. It was a bit of a chilly night, but that was to be expected near a river.

“Hey.” You turned your attention over to Eijiro who moved over to sit next to you on another old stump. The large Alpha held two hot cups in his hands. He wore a light sweater that suited him well as he offered the one cup to you.

You smiled warmly at the gift and accepted. “Evening Head Alpha Kirishima, thank you.” You bowed your head in gratitude as you looked down at the cup. It smelt like tea which you were now very grateful for. You held the mug between your hands as you kept your body warm.

“No, please.” He waved a hand down. “No need for the formalities, Eijiro is fine.” He assured you.

“You are Head Alpha of his pack,” You said reminding him. “I have to acknowledge that.”

Eijiro looked at you for a moment intrigued by the statement. He scoffed as he looked down. “Well, at the end of the day, I’m just Eijiro. But if you want, Kirishima is also fine.” He informed you as he turned to look at you, the light of the fire illuminating in his ruby eyes. “So, how have you been? How’s the pack treating you? I hope the duties you were assigned aren’t too much.”

You smiled. “Well. Very well. And don’t worry about the duties, I understand. We all have to pitch in to help and keep this place running, it only makes sense.” You assured him of your understanding as you nodded your head. “You’re all so nice and I’ve made some good friends, like Mina, Momo and Pony, even with Shinso. I’m…” You looked up to the stars once again with a smile. “I’m glad I’m here.”

Eijiro watched you for a moment. He wasn’t sure what was wrong with him and why he was so fascinated by you. You were something else entirely and he loved to watch you. He could sense so much from within you. At first, he was worried it was just because you were an Omega and conveniently, a good looking one at that. There weren’t many Omegas left and he was worried that his dumb Alpha just wanted you for your second gender. However, watching you as practical Head Omega of your group, watching your reasoning and your way of thinking was more attractive than anything physical.

Eijiro looked down at his cup, “Well…” he turned to look at you. “I’m glad that you’re here.” You turned to him in surprise at the statement, your eyes wide as you stared at the Alpha next to you. “From what I’ve seen, you’ve been doing well here. Not many people can adapt as easily as you have.” He spoke truthfully. You ignored the warmth in your face as being caused by the fire and not his words.

You moved to drink from your tea before it got cold. You swallowed down hard. “So… what have you been up to?” You asked him.

He let out a breath. “Been moving and chopping some logs and had some meetings with Iida and Akashi and the others, by the way, he really doesn’t like it here.” You giggled making him smile. “I’m serious, he acts like I’m condemning him to hell.”

“He’s just…” You hesitated as you let out a soft scoff. “He doesn’t like change.”

Eijiro nodded as he kept looking at his cup. He took a sip of his own tea as a comfortable silence settled between the two of you. The low rush of the river and crickets nearby along with the hush of people talking behind you filled the space between the both of you. “So… is he your Alpha?” He asked casually, but felt a heavy stone at the back of his throat.

You snorted as you shook your head. “God no. None of them are. I mean… sure we’re a pack and I’m an Omega so, I don’t really have much chose when it comes to…” You stopped yourself before you got too personally, and looked down at your grip on your cup. Your grip was harsh. “But I’ve never let one of them claim me. I mean, it’s the end of the fucking world and I shouldn’t be so picky… so many Omegas out there who didn’t make it would kill to have a choice of mate like me, but I…” Your voice trailed on, not entirely sure what more there was to say.

Eijiro nodded his head as he looked at you. “Hey.” You turned to him. “You aren’t forced to be with any of them. You’re free to do what you want and be with whoever you want.”

You scoffed softly. “That’s easy for you to say, Mr Head Alpha…” you spoke lowly. “I’ve already accepted life as an Omega in this world. If I’m not with a pack, I’m either waiting to die at the hands of zombies or going to be stolen away by people worse. Omegas are scarce and when people start getting comfortable, pack Omegas are the first people to look to. I understand my role as a femme in this world. Doesn’t make me helpless but it’s a scary truth. I don’t really have a choice.”

“You have a choice in pack.” You paused at what he was saying as you turned to look at him. Eijiro straightened up his posture. “That’s all up to you.”

You looked at him a bit unsure in what he was implying. You opened your mouth to speak.

“Y/N!” You visibly jumped out of your skin as you turned to look back at Akashi and Aomine. Both Alphas looked angry with who you had been found talking to. Aomine glared at Eijiro with a low growl. Akashi didn’t say anything but you already knew what he was saying to you.

You swallowed down hard before looking to Eijiro. Eijiro tensed at the smell of your scent, heavy and laced with anxiety and fear. You gave him a weak smile and a nod. “Thank you for the chat.” You spoke lowly as you left behind the tea you had and left over to them.

Eijiro watched with a worried look as Aomine grabbed the back of your neck making you let out a small yelp as he stirred you away from Eijiro along with them. Akashi didn’t say anything as he glanced back at Eijiro. He huffed before turning to look back forward again, ignoring the other Alpha. Eijiro had an uneasy feeling in his stomach, a worried feeling about you.

Eijiro moved fast and quickly to the one of the Omegan barracks. His heart beating loudly in his ears as he tried to be quick about it. What Mina had told him was limited but enough to make the Alpha’s hair stand up in worry. He was light on his feet as he finally reached the cabin he was looking for. He opened the door, the room vacant all for one person.

You were sitting on a chair near a window. You turned to look at him, and that’s when he saw it. Bruises on the side of your face, recent enough for Eijiro to know that they weren’t old. Dried blood was on your bottom lip. You stood up in surprise. “Head Alpha Ki-”

You couldn’t finish your statement as Eijiro crossed the room in short strides and immediately cupped your face, looking at the bruises on you. “What happened?” He asked, a furrow to his brows and worry in his voice. “Who did this to you?” He asked with a low underlying growl as he inspected your condition.

You moved your face out of his grasp with a sigh. "You need to leave."

He paused for a second before frowning. “I’m not leaving until you tell me what happened and we get you help.” He stepped closer to you but you took a step further away from him.

“No, I can’t be seen talking to you.” You stated, turning away from him. You held your arms closer to your body not wanting him to press forward on that matter. Part of you was hoping he would just go away so that you could be in peace.

Eijiro paused. His eyebrows furrowed. “It was him, wasn’t it?” He asked lowly.

You didn’t answer as you tightened your grip on yourself as you tried to ignore that question. You heard a low growl from Eijiro in annoyance. You sighed, closing your eyes. “What does it matter?” You asked softly with a shrug. “It’s fine. You don’t have to worry about it.”

“I am going to worry about it!”

“Why?”

“Because-” Eijiro stopped himself at his raised voice. You turned back to look at him as he had his eyes closed and he took a deep breath. His scent was raging, releasing pheromones of aggression and anger, but it quickly changed to having a heavy undertone of worry and care. He opened his eyes and looked to you. You watched his handsome face ease as he stepped closer to you.

The large Alpha let out a low chuft from the back of his throat, asking for permission to touch you this time. You hesitated but nodded your head with a soft chirp. He gently caressed your cheek, his thumb grazing over the bruise so lightly you didn’t even feel it. A low rumble came out of his chest, almost in a comforting sense. You looked up at him with wide eyes, looking into his ruby ones. He looked so concerned, eyebrows furrowed as if he wondered how someone could even think of hurting you. He leaned down forward, and you squeezed your eyes shut, bracing for something to happen.

It took a moment, but nothing happened. When you opened your eyes this time, Eijiro had put his forehead against yours. His rumble only grew louder as he lightly scented you. You were stiff for a moment before relaxing, allowing him to scent you. You let out a hum as you lifted your neck, exposing it as he leaned forward.

His large hands went to rest on your hips as he pulled you closer, affectionately scenting you. You weren’t sure what to make of this, but it made your heart leap out of your chest and your Omega purred like a generator. You felt a flush rise up your neck. You weren’t usually this swayed but his large figure dwarfing you as he held you to his side made you feel butterflies that you had never felt since the end of this stupid world.

He let out a deep breath. “If you would allow me…” He started lowly. “I want to take care of you.” You listened to what he was saying but was half distracted by the feeling of his thumb stroking your arm. “But I can’t do that if you don’t want to be part of my pack… if you don’t want to be mine.”

You looked up at him half unsure. “But what about Akashi and the others. They would never allow it.”

“It doesn’t matter what they allow.” He lets out sternly. “I’m Head Alpha.” He moved his hand to lift your chin up to look at him. He raised a single eyebrow. “Aren’t I… Omega?”

Your eyes glanced down at his lips before looking back up at his eyes. Your mind went numb for a second but you nodded your head. “Yes… you are.”

You felt almost like you couldn’t breathe in his arms and yet you wanted him. You wanted him more than you wanted to breathe. You could feel it in the air, it was as palpable as ever. It was almost suffocating. He was right in front of you and you didn’t know what to do. You wanted him against you. You wanted him to consume you. You wanted him to ravage you and take you as his own. You wanted his bite on your neck. It ached and thrummed between your legs almost as consistently as your heartbeat.

You turned your head, trying to breathe, trying to align your thoughts once again. However, it didn’t even last a second that you tried to recollect yourself as Eijiro moved your face towards him. His lips claimed yours in security and assurance. It was slow and it was gentle. You weren’t even sure if it was real. All you knew was that you could feel the heat that radiated off of him and you wanted more of it.

The moment he pulled away, letting out a soft breath you wrapped your arms around his neck, pulling him back down again. Eijiro let out a low rumble as he reached to put his hands back on your hips. He deepened the kiss, holding you tighter. You closed your eyes as you let yourself be consumed by his figure. For a second, just in his embrace, you could forget about everything and focus on the Alpha in front of you.

Eijiro stumbled back with you in his arms, putting your back against the wooden wall of the cabin. You gasped as Eijiro gripped your thighs and hoisted you up. He let out a determined growl as he held you up with little effort. He once again attacked your lips, his need to be with you, clasped around you, inside you, was so great it almost made him want to discard everything going on and sink into your soft cunt.

He could smell how needy you were, he could smell it in your scent and he could taste it on your lips. He loved it more than anything.

But he had to be patient.

Eijiro leaned back as he took a deep inhale and angled his face down away from you. His breaths laboured as well as your own. You could feel his half hard cock against you, making you whine as your thighs twitched. You nudged his jaw with your nose as he held you up. You had never felt such a strong and almost careless bond with someone like this before. It felt almost as if you had no control over your body, as if you were entirely acting off of instinct.

And yet it felt almost amazing.

He let out a low sigh as he brought his face to the crook of your neck. “You’re staying with me.”

You closed your eyes as you felt the beat of his heart against the palm of your hand as you rest it on his heart. You nodded your head. “Okay.”

“WHERE ARE THEY!” Akashi shouted as he pushed past others to move towards Eijiro who stood talking to Bakugou before he had to pause to look at the angry alpha. Eijiro turned towards him with a raised eyebrow. Akashi moved with Aomine and Kagami behind him as he moved towards Eijiro. At the confrontation, immediately Bakugou turned on the defensive as he started growling, staying at Eijiro’s side. Akashi had an angry look in his eyes, one that couldn’t help but ripple off of him in waves of his scent. “Where are they?”

Kirishima looked down at him before shrugging. “I don’t know who you’re talking about-”

“Don’t play stupid with me, Kirishima.” he let out threateningly. “Where the fuck is my Omega?”

“I didn’t know you had one.”

Aomine rolled his eyes getting fed up on behalf of all of them. “Y/N! Where is Y/N!”

Eijiro blinked before putting on a surprised face. “Oh Y/N…” He let out as he folded his arms. “Y/N is safe away from you.”

“Away from us?” Aomine stepped forward causing Katsuki to do the same. Noticing the scuffle, Izuku paused with a basket of nectarines in his arms. He handed them to Shoto who’s eyes widened in surprise before heading over to Eijiro and Katsuki’s side. Aomine scoffed before looking to Eijiro. “They are our Omega!”

Eijiro’s grip on his arm tightened as he glared over at them. “You don’t deserved the privilege of having an Omega if you lay a hand on them.”

Aomine opened his mouth but paused. Akashi had a hand up, signalling for him to keep quiet. His gaze hardened as he looked at Kirishima, he took a step forward. “They are our Omega. A masc, let alone a Head Alpha, has right to discipline their Omega how they see fit.”

“Discipline? Slapping an Omega, that’s what you call discipline?” Eijiro asked, his patience wearing thin as he stepped forward, suddenly, the area around them grew quiet as people stopped what they were doing to spectate the group. “How dare you treat an Omega like that?”

Akashi scoffed. “It’s none of your concern.”

“It’s all of my concern as Head Alpha.”

The magenta haired Alpha growled in annoyance. “You worry about your pack members and I’ll worry about mine.”

All it took was one glance to Aomine and suddenly there was a gun pointed at Katsuki. Everything happened so fast, Eijiro wasn’t entirely sure if he could even say a single word before it happened. He froze as the piercing sound rang through the air, everyone diving down in fear of the bullet. Eijiro’s heart stopped as he could barely breathe.

Katsuki was down on the ground, Izuku having tackled the blond Alpha before the shot could have gotten him. Katsuki put his hands to his head, feeling that he was in fact alive and not dead. However, Izuku let out a pained groan from atop of him. It was then that Katsuki quickly realised the green haired Alpha had been shot in his place. Warm hot blood spilt down from Izuku onto Katsuki making the blond trigger in a reaction. “Deku!” He pushed Izuku up, trying to see where all the blood that was now falling onto him was coming from. Izuku’s shoulder had an entrance hole from the bullet in it as he let out  pained groans as he held his shoulder. His eyes were squeezed shut as in agony as he bit down on his bottom lip. He bit back pained cries as he lay in Katsuki’s lap now. Katsuki put a hand to Izuku’s face. “You fucking idiot… It’s okay, it’s alright.” Katsuki said lowly. He looked up at one of the bystanders. “SOMEONE CALL A FUCKING MEDIC!”

Eijiro was frozen before looking at Akashi. Katsuki looked up and watched as Eijiro’s eyes turned black as his arm hardened.

You paced back and forth as you stood outside the medical bay on the grounds. The screaming had stopped a few hours ago. It was enough to make one sick. When you had heard all that had happened while you stayed in Eijiro’s cabin, you felt absolutely ridden with guilt. Learning that Izuku had taken a built all because of a scuffle concerning you had you feeling as though maybe you had done the wrong thing.

The door opened into the late evening air, the cycads singing the entire time. You looked up to Eijiro who closed the door behind him. He let out a heavy breath but smiled at you. “He’s going to be fine.” You let out a relieved breath, nearly falling to your knees. “Whoa!” Eijiro quickly caught you in his arms, holding you up.

You leaned your head against his chest as you tried to fight back the tears that spilt from your eyes. “Oh thank goodness.” You whispered in relief. “I was so worried. I couldn’t bare it if he-” You couldn’t say it as it got stuck in your throat.

Eijiro gave you a gentle smile before shaking your head. “No, don’t worry. Recovery girl is one of the best in the game, and her quirk is healing so he’ll make a good recovery. We just don’t have anaesthesia left so he had to go through removing the bullet awake. He passed out not too long ago though.” He reported. You kept your eyes squeezed shut as you held onto him for dear life. Eijiro frowned as he pet down your back. He picked you up and started walking down the dirt path.

You all had to be especially quiet after all that had happened. From the gun shot, to the fight that had happened afterwards, it was way too much noise and brought enough dead to your door that was unnecessary. You hard heard that Eijiro, Iida, Shinso and Sero had effectively kicked the miracles out of the community. It was only due to the sheer number of undead outside was the reason they didn’t kill them.

Alive enemies were worse than dead ones.

But you just hoped they wouldn’t bother any of the pack again. You didn’t want to be the cause of problems.

Eijiro carried you safely in his arms towards his cabin. Most of the pack had gone to dinner or were with Izuku currently. You chose to wait outside, wanting some time to yourself. Although the Omegas comforted you through it, telling you that this wasn’t because of you and none of this was your fault, you still felt consumed by guilt.

Eijiro entered his cabin, closing the door back with his foot as he walked over to his bedroom. This cabin wasn’t bigger than the others, but Eijiro had it all to himself (Head Alpha perks). He placed you carefully on the bed before crouching in front of you. “Hey…” He let out lowly as he held your hands in his own large ones. You looked at him, his ruby eyes lulling you in as he talked to you. “You’re safe now. You’re safe. You’re with me.”

You swallowed down hard as you nodded your head. You gave him a weak smile before looking down at your hands. You let out a stuttered breath. “Eijiro…” You started.

“Hm?”

“Why?”

“Why what?”

“Why are you doing this?” You looked up at him so damn confused. You didn’t understand it. You didn’t understand him, you couldn’t understand him. It didn’t make sense. There were Omegas, femmes that here that had been with his pack longer, gorgeous and trustworthy, that were more worth the attention than you felt you were. You shrugged as you gave him a slight cynical smile. “I don’t get it. You could have just cut your losses and just left me out with them. It wouldn’t have been that hard. One of your pack members wouldn’t have been nearly killed because of me.”

Eijiro watched you speak wordlessly, watching your eyes entranced almost. A sad smile on his face as he watched you gently. “Y/N when I first met you… I found your presence captivating.” He spoke softly. His thumb traced over the knuckles of your fingers as he did so. “Your reasoning and commitment towards the betterment of the people around you and the community you find yourself in was… well, it was admirable. I found it admirable. I found myself drawn to you. I would have done this for any Omega that found themselves in this situation, it isn’t right to be treated that way. However,” He reached a hand up to your face, gently caressing you. “I found myself entranced with you… I hope you can forgive me for that.”

You swallowed down hard before a small sad smile came to your face. You shook your head as tears came to your eyes. “There’s nothing to forgive.” You shrugged with a soft whisper.

Eijiro smiled making the butterflies in your stomach flutter. Eijiro… you couldn’t help but get so giggly with him around. He made you feel like a young Omega all over again with a crush that felt way too good for you. You smiled as you leaned down to him, placing a kiss to your face. Eijiro chuckled but kissed you back with a rumble out of his chest.

You found yourself purring in response as you reached for his shirt, pulling him closer to you. Eijiro once again, found himself too deep in your scent, your touch, your presence to think logically even though he had only started kissing you two seconds ago. He moved to slowly push you back onto the bed, falling back with your back against the sheets. He caged you in easily making you feel so small underneath him.

Eijiro hummed at the taste of you on his lips. You wrapped your arms around his neck, trying to pull him in closer as you moved your hips up, your legs wrapping themselves around his torso. Eijiro pressed in further down. With one rut down against you, you both separated with a heavy groan into the air. The feeling of his clothed sex against your own made you feel so damn needy. It almost made you just want to rip your clothes of and jump on his cock until he knotted you. Part of you didn’t even want foreplay. You just wanted him.

You both found yourself in a steady movement of him grinding his hardening bulge against your own clothed cunt that was now covered in slick. You whined as you tightened your hold on him, burying your face in the crook of his neck. Eijiro moved to try and lick over your scent gland. Immediately he moaned at the taste of you on his tongue. He loved it. He wanted more. Which is exactly what he did, lapping at your scent gland wanting to have the taste of you memorised on his tongue.

You moaned at the feeling of his hot tongue on your neck. A small hiss escaping your lips as you felt sharp canines just skim over your neck. “Alpha…” You let out into the air, making a low rumble thunder out of his chest, causing a shiver to run down your spine.

Eijiro moved to unbutton your shirt, moving to undress you as he kept you pinned underneath him. His cock was aching and he couldn’t think straight. He couldn’t think past finally getting you on his cock, even as he slipped off his own shirt. Not with the way you were now looking up at him, bare and wide eyed as you stared up at him like a doe in headlights. It was an exhilarating feeling that had him aching to be one with you.

Just as he moved to push a finger inside you, you put a hand to his wrist, stopping him. You shook your head. Instantly that raised red flags in his head. Although you could guess just by the bulge in his cargo pants alone, Eijiro was big.

Okay, that was a lie.

He was fucking huge.

The last thing he wanted to do was hurt you by trying to bully his cock in a space that wouldn’t fit him. Although the thought of forcing his cock inside you, seeing the way your whole would struggle to accommodate him as you whined with tears in your eyes, you barely being able to breathe as Eijiro stretched you out further than any Alpha could before… it made a part of him excited which half scared him.

“Let me…” You pushed him back to stand as you sat up on the bed. You shuffled off the bed as well before slowly sinking to your knees. “Let me service you, Alpha.” You said as you slowly sank to your knees, keeping your eyes on him. You watched his ruby eyes slowly turn dark as he swallowed down hard. He allowed it with a deep grunt making you smile.

You stared at the bulge in front of you as you were positioned on your knees. You were careful as you found a comfortable position to stay in. You carefully moved to unzip his pants, taking down the zipper as you pulled down his pants first with a bit of his help, allowing him to step out of them. You then moved to pull down his briefs and thank God you had fast reflexes, the else you might have gotten smacked in the face.

Your eyes widened as you were met with the monster in front of you. A thick girthy cock that you were sure had you drooling. It was beautiful. Thick and heavy, leaking pre from the tip that made you want to kiss it. You wondered how on earth you were gonna take it inside you. But then the thought of struggling on such a beast had slick slipping out of you and onto your thighs.

Wanna read the rest of this smutty deliciousness? Head over to the link below!! This is one of my more spicy ones so, it belongs and will stay on AO3. DO NOT REPOST ON ANY OTHER PLATFORM ANY OF MY WORK.

[358jours]

Yanqing x GN!Reader⎢But I’m so ‘eepy

Word Count⎢1300

Genre/Tags⎢SFW, fluff, Reader is a big introvert and is sleep deprived, shopping dates, PDA, written and posted before game launch⎢Crossposted on AO3

You stifle another yawn as Yanqing drags you around. You’re holding hands, fingers laced together. He walks ahead of you, loud joy in his steps. He’s almost always sporting a smile in public, but the happiness radiating off of him right now is something else. He forced you out of your room today, and though you love his presence, your social battery can only last so long. At this point, you’re practically dead weight he’s carrying on his own.

Yanqing is an energetic young man, extroverted, optimistic, though perhaps a bit naive. He enjoys anything that has to do with swords the most such as taking care of them, training, competitions. He’s also a big spender on his hobbies, always ending up begging his father –or even you– to finance his basic needs. Many people are aware of who he is due to all that, and also the fact he’s the lieutenant. 

You are the opposite. An introverted soul, sleep deprived, fond of staying inside. You tend to stay up far too late into the night, kept up by good video games, and bad decisions. “I can still play, like, fifteen minutes more”, cue three am beeping on your alarm clock after hours passed unnoticed. You could count on one hand those aware of who you are too. First General Jing Yuan, the leader of the Luofu himself, then an unnamed accountant, whose existence only matters for a single reason (your pay), and Yanqing himself. Perhaps Marshal Hua might count as well as she knows about everything, but you never met her personally. 

Yanqing is the only person able to drag you out of your room for more than an hour, and the only person able to drag you out outside at all. Perhaps ‘drag you out’ is too strong a word as you always consent to going out with him, but your mood is a bit sour from your dead social battery and the fatigue in your body. As far as you’re aware, everyone on the Luofu market street has dubbed you “Yanqing’s sleepy partner” (You can’t really blame them, it would be quite awkward to ask “so what’s your name?” while your self-proclaimed knight in shining armor is right by your side). You have a very “cat and dog” personality contrast that makes people laugh, opposites attract or so they say. 

.

Yanqing pulls you forward amidst the crowd. “Finally, we’ve arrived at the Artisanship Commission!”

You take a moment to take in the sight. The sun is high, barely two in the afternoon, and illuminates the red city radiantly, this shop as well. The view is beautiful, yes, but honestly your mind is so jaded, it’s hard to grasp reality. Hopefully this is the last stop for today, Aeons know you won’t survive if you don’t get your afternoon nap. You hear Yanqing's voice and– oh he’s talking to a vendor, nevermind. They seem to know each other, by the way they laugh at least. 

You look over to the swords on display. They’re all impressive, a vast range of different colors and sizes. The one you like best is mainly clear blue and has a yin-yang on its guard, it looks pretty though perhaps a bit heavy for Yanqing? The second one is thinner, it’s mainly black with white and blue accents. It would look good in his hands. The one beside it is ew full-gold yellow, and though the color is less than attractive, the details forged on it are stunning. 

You don’t notice the vendor handing Yanqing a sword. He lifts the hand you’re holding, and looks at you curiously. You let go sheepishly to which he only smiles. The vendor giggles. Ah, embarrassing. 

You space out once more while Yanqing listens with grand attention to the explanations about the ki-controlled attacks the sword can perform. You’re kind of staring at him as he tests the sword through different movements, touching the blade with the tip of his finger. It looks alright, but the swords on display are prettier. He hands it back, the vendor leaves for a moment, and comes back with another. The same happens, and again, and again, and you feel your legs more and more. Trying not to yawn becomes harder and harder.

Your interest is peaked when the vendor brings him the sword with the yin-yang guard. They talk about the features again, he moves it a bit. He hums, does bigger movements, it seems he likes this one too. You rest your head against his shoulder “I like this one.” 

He shifts his head slightly. “Really?” 

“Yeah. It’s pretty and it goes well with your outfit. You should take a dark gray scabbard to go with it.” 

Yanqing hums. He looks at the sword one last time before handing it back. “Alright, I’ll take two, and two dark gray scabbards.” 

The vendor looks very surprised, but happily obliges. They shuffle, occupied in preparing his purchases. Your partner sports a smile on his face, his happiness showing through his proud stance. You don’t fight your yawn this time, and close your eyes. You open them soon after at the sound of a pathetic whine and your name however. Yanqing’s face is contorted in dread. You’re a bit confused about what is wrong, your mind foggy— oh. 

.

His wallet is completely empty. 

You laugh loudly, which makes him even more embarrassed. “Hey, come on! How am I supposed to pay now? And I already said I was taking it home too…” But it only worsens your fit. You grip onto his arm to not fall. The vendor comes back, and Yanqing hastily hides the hollow pouch. He looks at the vendor worriedly as you continue laughing against him. 

“You two are adorable together. Mind repeating your joke?” The vendor smiles at you both. 

“Yeah, thank you. Uh.” Yanqing let out an embarrassed laugh as he scratched the back of his neck. 

You recover enough to hand your credit card to the vendor. “He forgot his money at home.” Yanqing stutters as the vendor snorts. You’re handed back your card, and your partner receives his new swords. He carries them with his left arm while his right hand is occupied, as he refuses not to hold hands with you whenever you are out. 

You walk together for a bit, saying nothing. He’s not dragging you everywhere like before anymore, thankfully. The sun is still high, but at least forty minutes have passed, if not more. Yanqing is the first to break the silence, “You should name it, the sword. But it’s important so you should think deeply about it, yeah?” 

You hum, your mind occupied by other priorities. You pull him in a direction. “Nap time.” 

“What?!” He’s taken aback, clearly confused and in shock. “No way I’ll let you name it that!”

You pull him again and— push him to sit on a bench? He’s still lost, looking at you for clarification. He’s by the far side while you go sit in the middle. He’s about to ask more when you suddenly lay down. Your head goes to rest on his lap. “Nap time, wake me up in one hour or if it starts raining.” 

Yanqing opens his mouth and closes it, still confused although now flustered. “Really? Right here, right now? I thought you disliked being in public.”

You hum a bit, shifting, making yourself comfortable on the hard bench. It would take longer than one hour before getting sunburned right? So this is probably fine. Between the sun high in the sky, the soft breeze, and the comfort of Yanqing, you don’t think you’ll have much trouble resting in public. “Bed is too far, and I’m so ‘eepy.”

He huffs, although there’s a smile on his face. “Alright.” 

[equxvedits]

needy alarm cocks

ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ Synopsis: you wake up to gojo' head between your thighs but are still craving for more. so, you turn to your boyfriend, toji.

・❥・characters: gojo satoru and fushiguro toji.

・❥・requests

warnings: mdni, polyamorous relationship, somnophilia, oral sex (f. and m. receiving), fingering, sixty-nine (kinda but not really), no protection, heavy squirting, hints of overstimulation, aftercare implied but not written 

・❥・wc: 2.6k

・❥・masterlist

Hot. Wet. Sweaty. Those were the first things you felt as you came to. Your eyes barely open as your sight was blurry from unshed tears.

You had just awoken from having a wet dream, your boyfriends fucking you into oblivion at a drive-in theatre.

The scene of such a theatre was featured in a movie you watched right before going to bed, and your first thought had been how it would feel to be fucked in such a setting.

Such thoughts were probably the catalyst that incited the wet dream in the first place.

Taking a few moments to regain your footing, you continued to heave out breaths, trying your best to open your eyes completely.

Strangely enough, your lower abdomen still felt tight, body feeling fuzzy for some reason. As you finally opened your eyes, you immediately saw ocean blue.

Meeting your boyfriend's eyes, you let out a gasp from seeing him hold you in such a promiscuous position.

He had your left leg flung over his shoulder, cheek resting against your thigh as he kitten-licked your pussy. Not once did he break eye contact.

You slowly turn your head to the right to see your boyfriend, Toji, still asleep. As ecstatic as this felt you didn't want to accidentally wake him up, knowing well how hard it is for him to catch sleep.

"S-so good, 'toru~...But- it's so l-late! Go to sleep..." You whisper, hand moving to tangle your fingers in his hair.

"How can I sleep with your squirming against my dick, baby?" He coos licking a stripe of your leaking entrance.

"W-what—?"

"Woke up to you whimpering like a kitty, love. Had a wet dream did you? Suppose it was good 'cause your panty here is drenched." He says before finally pressing his tongue flat against you.

You muffle a moan by biting your lip, eyes falling on your panties that bunched up on your right thigh, and he was right.

The garment was indeed drenched, the crotch area a darker blue in contrast to the original light blue.

Your cheeks flush in embarrassment at the sight, growing red when you feel Satoru's tongue against your slit.

The tip of his tongue rested right beneath your entrance, meaning the wider part of his muscle was pressed against your puffy folds.

You could feel his breath come in intervals, your sex growing warmer due to this. Since you were already teeming with pleasure due to your dream, you were on the edge of cumming without Satoru having to do much.

So when he started to suck your folds, your back was arching off the bed. The soft squelches and slurps burn your ears as the tears finally flow down the side, disappearing into your scalp.

His tongue delved deeper, nose pressed against your clit for added stimuli as he breathed against your skin.

Something about getting eaten out right next to your sleeping boyfriend really turned you on, and you were almost tempted to moan out loud and wake him up.

But you don't give in to your lust-filled brain and continue to clamp your hand over your mouth.

Satoru didn't stop his ministrations, even as your fluids soaked his lower face and continued to flow down his neck, some dripping off his chin.

When he felt your spongy walls spasm, his teeth softly bit your clit resulting in you cumming hard on his face, your cum flowing out and onto his hand.

Satoru pumped his fingers diligently against your g-spot to prolong your release. Eyes rolling to the back, your toes curled at the intensity as Satoru cleaned up all of your arousal before moving away from you, revealing his damp face.

He brings a finger to the side of his lip, wiping a bit of your slick and slipping it in his mouth, sending a wink your way as he does.

"W-where are you going?" You ask softly when he gets off the bed and starts to walk towards the bedroom door.

"Gonna take shower, pretty girl. My shirt's all wet 'cause of you. Wanna join?" He asks looking back at you.

"No...I-I'm gonna need a moment." You replied, still heaving small breaths as Satoru chuckled.

"Not surprised, you came pretty hard there! Well, I'm just that good, hahahah!"

You had definitely stroked his ego, you had no doubt he was brimming with pride as he showered.

You had finally calmed down a bit, but the throbbing in your cunt never diminished. Still feeling heady, you brought one hand to your breast that was constricted behind your dainty slip.

You whimpered when you brought your other hand to your pussy, feeling the slippery wetness connecting with your fingertips.

You discreetly look to the side to spare a glance at your still-asleep boyfriend. You argued back and forth in your mind, having internal conflicts with your brain, one side telling you to not ruin his sleep, the other saying fuck it and fuck him.

And against your better judgment, you went with the latter, telling yourself you will make up to him later.

You get on your hands and knees, sitting beside his huge build, planning on your next actions. You bite your lip shyly when you gain a filthy idea, wasting no time to execute it.

Swinging your right leg over to his other side, you straddle his stomach, cunt hovering over his bare abdomen.

Your deft hands work swiftly in pulling down his sweatpants, sparing another look back to make sure he is asleep before you start to palm him softly.

You were already feeling hazy, it was taking everything in you to not grind against Toji's sculpted skin but didn't want him to wake up abruptly.

As you continued to massage your hand against him, you felt him stir beneath you. Turning slightly, you examine his face, watching his eyebrows pinch slightly, the scar tugging up with his lip.

He was still asleep but was surely feeling this. Once his girth starts to rise, you slowly lean forward, lowering yourself till your lips are close to his length.

Initiating with small licks, you dually worked to get his dick wet, wanting it to be harder. He was thick and heavy against your palm, his length nudging your hairline every time you worked closer to the base.

Your four fingers barely just barely connected with your thumb as you enclose your hand around his girth.

The sight never failed to make you drool, feeling a phantom stretch of every time his cock had been in you.

Finally, you wrapped your tongue around his tip, going to encase your mouth around him, slowly working his cock deeper into your mouth.

A gag broke through you when the head of his cock first touched the back of your throat, tears quickly pricking your eyes from the reflex.

You continued at a tormenting pace, hoping Toji was growing hotter at your touch.

He was.

Seeing your ass in his face was not something he expected to see after waking up. Your body bent over his abdomen, warm mouth wrapped around his cock.

The hem of your slip was not touching your stomach, giving him a view of your plump underboobs, the fabric constricting your puckered nipples.

From there he could also see your neck, eyeing the prominent bulge from throating his cock making him twitch in your mouth.

Your bare pussy was on display for him, the grool forming a puddle on his abs as it connected to your sopping hole with a clear string.

It wasn't uncommon for Satoru or him to wake you up in the middle of the night with your cunt wrapped around their cocks, or their tongues inside your walls, but this was the first time where you had been the one to initiate this.

You're not one to make the first move, even in sex, so he immediately knew that you had either been woken up by Satoru, or you woke up needy after a wet dream.

In reality, it was both.

He didn't hesitate to wipe two fingers against his stomach, scooping up your arousal and plunging them in your hole, wanting to watch it drip out again.

"Mmphh!"

You sputtered around his cock, eyes rolling back, but continued your movements. His salty taste melted against your tastebuds as you took him deeper.

"Isn't this a pretty sight..." Toji's rasped out, voice still rough from just waking up. His fingers bullied into your cunt, his fingertips pressing against the ceiling.

"Mmph! Ngh~ T-ah!-oji N-need more!"

"What was that, doll?" He hummed teasingly, his other hand squeezing the flesh of your ass.

"I-It hurts...I'm so- ngh! wet...need you s-so bad~"

You begged once you freed his cock from your mouth. Your moans grew louder as Toji's fingers worked deeper into you.

"Fuuh...-uck!! N-need more than that!"

Toji grinned devilishly at your words, and although you couldn't see it, you had certainly sensed it when another finger slipped into you.

His thick digits slowed down their pace, torturing you as you dripped down his arm. Your slick had trailed down his hand to which it was dripping off his elbow, making it apparent just how desperate you were.

"This wet from sucking my cock, doll? Or did the blindfold freak fuck you?" He asks, spitting on his other hand to rub it on your clit.

"B-both!"

"Oh? How'd he fuck you?" He pries, thumb luring you with its torment on your swollen clit.

"With h-his mouth..ngh~ He woke me u-up, saying my panties were wet...ahh~ 'cause o-of the dream I had..."

"Dream? Tell me, what happened in the dream." You freeze at his request, hesitating. You contemplated detracting him but knowing how you had disturbed his sleep, you decided to be honest.

"W-we were in your- ngh~! your car. 'Toru was fingering me in the b-backseat while you fucked my m-mouth!"

Your words came out extremely incoherent, struggling to form any words with Toji's fingers stuffed in your cunt.

"Fuck, you're so fuckin' filthy baby. Is that why I woke up to my cock in your mouth?" You nod in confirmation, cheeks heating up when he a gave a single thrust with his fingers.

"Fucked your mouth...in a car. Dirty girl...need to try that someday." Toji says with a nasty smirk on his face.

"Toji! Please!"

You pleaded hips moving back against his hand.

"Gonna have to work for it, baby." He teased, fingers now out of you as they pressed against your puffy cunt, rubbing softly.

You registered his words in your mind, taking the hint to move. You crawled forward till your pussy rested right against his thickness.

His cock was already wet with his pre-cum and your spit, making it a lot easier to slip him in, with a bit of difficulty of course.

Even after years, you fit him like a glove that was too tight. You knew that you would never get used to his size, feeling the familiar stretch prick tears in your eyes due to the sting.

He slowly sat up, broad chest pressed against your back. His hands fondled your breasts as you tried to accommodate his length.

Squirming against him, you look down to admire the exhibit. Your cunt wrapped prettily around him, enveloping him to the base as his trimmed hair was covered in your slick and spit.

His hand worked to pull one tit out, tugging at your nub. The straps of your slip were off your shoulders, barely hanging by a thread as it pathetically covered only half of your other tit.

You started to move, hips moving up and down at a steady speed. His lips met your neck, suckling on the sensitive skin as you moaned.

"Doing so good, doll. But, you need to move faster." He nips at your ear as you nod at his request, picking up your speed.

Your pace grew relentless as you trusted against him, Toji's hips bucking up occasionally to meet you.

"Taking me so good, look so pretty, baby." He praised against your neck as you cried out, feeling his tip hitting your cervix.

"F-feels so good..."

"Fuck...such a perfect pussy, so fucking tight like she doesn't get stuffed every night." Toji's praises flowed like honey in your veins, his tone sweet in contrast to his filthy words.

Since you were taking every inch of him, you had to lift your hips higher than it would normally require, mainly because Toji's thighs occupied too much space.

Your bare breasts bounced with every move, Toji having slipped off your camisole while you were too engrossed in bouncing on his cock.

Feeling the growing strain in your thighs, you snivel a bit, faltering in your thrusts. The amount of endorphins your body released might have been the only reason you pushed yourself to thrust harder despite the ache in your legs.

Toji looked from over your shoulder, admiring the ring of cream that formed around the base of his cock.

"Gonna cum over my cock, pretty doll? Can feel you gushing..." You nod dumbly, head pushed back against his shoulder as you continue to moan.

"Gonna cum-! cum f-for you...Ngh! Fill me, so good-"

Your blabbering intensifies as the coil tugs harder in your abdomen, not holding back your whorish moans as you chanted Toji's name.

"Pretty pussy, pretty face crying on my cock. Makes me want to breed this little hole." He hissed feeling his own cock swell up.

"Yes! Please! Want y-your cum! W-want you!"

Slurring over your words, your throat closes up before releasing a high-pitched moan. Your pussy gushes out your cum, convulsing around him.

When Toji notices the first spray of liquid, his hand moves to your cunt and starts to rub your clit aggressively.

His movements encourage your pussy to spray out even more, making you squirt heavily as you watch the liquid fall onto the mattress, completely soaking it.

Your legs tremble, thighs spasming from your intense orgasm. You fall back onto Toji, no longer having to energy or the brainpower to continue thrusting.

"That was so. fucking. beautiful. Pretty baby's all fucked out, wanna see you cum on my face like that."

He coos, now moving to thrust upwards into you, back against the headboard.

"T-toji baby. Please cum in me..."

You whimper out, face showing pure bliss as you press your cheek against his neck, nose touching his adam's apple.

"Fuhhck...wanna fill you so bad, doll. But can't do that..."

He breathes out, feeling your pussy still gripping him in anticipation. He grasps your waist, slipping you off his dick as your face falls on the wet mattress, your hands beside your head.

Toji finally orgasms, gritting his teeth in pleasure. The white liquid comes out in a few long spurts as they fall onto your ass, some dripping right onto your swollen and wet pussy.

Toji takes a few moments to breathe, watching your face as your cheek rests against the bed. He reaches out his hand, soothing it over your back.

Your heart hammered right against his palm, telling him that you were still recovering from your orgasm.

He gets out of bed to fetch a cloth to wipe the mess off of you before he is interrupted by a whistle.

"That was a great show, never seen her squirt like that. Got room for another?" Satoru strides into the room, walking to the opposite bedside wanting to admire you.

Your expression was fucked out and he was not sure if your eyes had even registered his presence.

His fingers suddenly touched your pussy, making you jolt harshly. His digits rub your cunt, spreading Toji's cum to make your folds wetter.

He moves swiftly to hook his middle and ring finger in you. You mewl in discomfort, clearly sensitive to the touch.

"Let her be, she's swollen. It's only gonna hurt her if you touch her." Toji says roughly, glaring at the younger male, who returns the favor.

Three years into this relationship, and they still only tolerated each other for your sake.

"What a pity—" Mid-sentence, he gives you one last thrust against your g-spot making you spurt out another stream of liquid. You cry out, pussy already gushing around his fingers.

"—I really wanted to fuck her." He completes, pulling his fingers out after pressing a small kiss on your lower back.

He walks towards the door, playing with your slick on his fingers.

"Make sure to clean everything up! 'M not gonna help cause I just showered. Bye-bye!" He waves back at Toji with the same hand, displaying your arousal dripping down his knuckles as he walks out.

Toji just clicks his tongue.

"Fuckin' brat."

[howtobecomeadragon]

Will blends in, no matter where he is.

Is he the love of Mike's life that Mike couldn't see right in front of him? Is he hiding from Vecna with every new outfit? Is he just so passive in his wants and desires that he literally doesn't stand out? Is his self doubt leading him to disappear a little bit?

Either way, it seems like his outfits, the set design, and the blocking lead to Will blending into the background in pretty much every single scene he's in.

Obviously it's a little hard to make the case when he's in the same outfit for 5 of the 8 episodes he's in, but let's take a closer look.

4x01, the only time he's wearing red, he's blends into the school doors when he has a freeze response to El's bullying.

4x02, Will blends in with background blues at the airport specifically when greeting Mike and specifically right as he makes eye contact with Mike, just a moment before their heads drop, completely synchronized.

4x02, Will is often standing in areas lit blue, with swaths of background actors wearing blue behind him.

4x03, Will wears gray as he unsuccessfully tries to get El back at the white-ish gray police station.

This is where is gets trickier: Will wears this outfit for the rest of the season.

4x03: Will blends in with the walls, lighting, and background objects in each room we see him in as he's wearing light brown, tan, and yellow.

4x05, while everyone else is popping either because of their bright white or bright colors against the yellow of the sand, Will blends in perfectly.

4x06, Will's shirt nearly perfectly matches the shades of yellow and blue in Suzie's bedroom. The patterns on Suzie's wall exacerbates this affect. Further, he's tucked into a dark corner of the room, making him nearly disappear in that top right shot above.

4x06, Will continues to blend with the yellows of the curtains and painting frame. He's blocked in front of the yellow foliage and brown bark of the trees in the below picture instead of in front of the green foliage Jonathan is in front of, where he would've popped more with the contesting colors and brightness.

4x08, Will blends with both the tan of the van and the sand outside.

4x08, Will continues to blend with the sand compared to others dressed in more contrasting clothes.

4x09, Will is situated in front of yellow walls several times, filmed from those angles instead of in front of more contrasting colors.

4x09, Will is in front of the yellow van (while both Mike and El have darker colors behind them, from the opened door and behind the van). Will stands in front of the brown door at the hospital (although I will say, Will stands out more at the hospital than anywhere else. Not too sure what to think of this). No contrasting background colors at the cabin or outside.

Has anyone else noticed this? Does anyone have thoughts about this choice throughout the season?

[mauesartetc]

A while back I got a comment that demonstrated a misconception as to what the character design process actually entails, and I thought it had real "teachable moment" potential. So let me make this perfectly clear:

Drawing a character is NOT the same as designing one.

Let's say I wanted to draw a guy. No backstory, no defined personality traits or preferences, no details about his current life, just doodling some random, generic guy who popped into my head.

That's just a drawing.

But what if I decided to flesh him out more? What if I wanted his appearance to reflect his lifestyle and inner life as well? Here's where the note-taking comes in.

And now for the visual research:

I thought the bodybuilding angle would provide a fun contrast with this guy's profession. The mental image of a huge, burly dude working on a clock or watch with tiny, precise movements just makes me smile. Perhaps I could give him small, nimble hands that would suit his line of work.

Now that I have a better idea of how Mikhail's face and body will look, it's time to establish a pose.

Of course, I never expected to employ all the personality traits I started out with inside this single pose; those were just a jumping-off point. No one drawing will ever be able to encapsulate every single facet of a character, unless they're extraordinarily flat and generic (see also: random guy I doodled at the start of this post). If I wanted to write a story with this guy, I'd have to figure out how all the traits play off each other and how they'd cause him to react to different situations. There would be a lot more note-taking and development involved, but for the sake of keeping this post (somewhat) brief, let's just focus on visuals for now.

On to color!

I decided to give Mikhail a carnation in his pocket (for its round shape), specifically a red one, which represents deep love and an aching heart. Thus, the flower needed to maintain its red color for the symbolism to come through.

For some reason I initially pictured this guy wearing a pink shirt (perhaps as an offshoot of the "romantic" angle), but I wanted to try some different colors inspired by the 70s catalog pages I found. I ended up really liking the contrast of the cool blue shirt with the warm red pants, and that option made it into my top three as a result. I lined them up next to each other to compare them, and in the end, blue won out over pink. I think it also reflects the "colder", more cerebral, less-emotional parts of his personality well (namely "systematic", "stern", and "callous"- one from each column!). Just goes to show that you shouldn't get too attached to your first draft, as better ideas are just around the corner.

I then lightened the blue of the shirt so it wouldn't compete so much with the rest of the outfit, and wouldn't be quite as loud and "in your face". Mikhail strikes me as a bit of an introvert, so the calmer, quieter blue is a better fit. I added a darker belt and watchband and de-saturated the flower just a bit to make the values feel more balanced, and I think we've got it!

Let's see the final result!

Y'all, I was not expecting this process to make me emotional, but there's something special about fully realizing a little guy you've spent hours working on. All of a sudden you look at him and go, "Oh my god, there he is. That's him." This man wasn't even a twinkle in my eye a couple weeks ago and now I'd protect him with my life.

And the thing is, the only reason I'm calling this design "done" for now is that I basically just brought it into existence to make a point. But if this dude were attached to a larger story, he'd be nowhere near finished. I'd have to make a ton more iterations and go a lot more in depth with my research than I did (especially with the Armenian cultural stuff). Overall, though, I hope this quick project properly highlighted the difference between a single drawing and a more fleshed-out character.

Later!