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cobaltperun · 1 year ago

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hi ! can you please write an angsty fic with a happy ending with gn!reader x tara or cairo your choice where t or c breaks up with r and r becomes a fuckgirl and t or c gets jealous. there could be some sort of conversation along the lines of r saying “how i chose to get over you is none of your business” and t or c responding “don’t” totally okay if you don’t want to or are not comfortable !! <3

(Don't) Let Go

Cairo Sweet x Female Reader (Request)

Masterlist

A/N: I usually keep this for the end, but two things, Anon added a correction, from GN! to Female Reader, so just pointing that out to clear potential confusion. Second, this depicts some unhealthy coping mechanisms, so I just want to say, do not follow R's example. Also, Anon, hope this is what you wanted 😁😁

Word count: 1.8k

She watched you from afar, her eyes narrowed, hand gripping the glass of wine so hard she was surprised it didn’t shatter and a frown that told her company not to interact with her unless necessary. You were drunk, dancing with a girl you were flirting with, your hands were on her hips, and her back was pressed against you as the two of you laughed. Tonight’s distraction. It didn’t escape her attention that this girl was a blonde, tall, green eyes, with plenty of make-up, though she could see she was still fairly pretty. Last night you went to the apartment of some red-head the night before that, some other girl with a tattoo who dyed her long wavy hair some ridiculous shade of orange to look like some anime character. The point was, each night you chose a girl that was the exact opposite of her and while Cairo wasn’t jealous, she hated seeing you like this.

Did she have the right to complain though? She broke up with you, she ruined yet another relationship. She ruined everything she touched.

It’s been a few years since she ruined her friendship with Winnie, since she thought she found her love in Miller and was disappointed and in a way betrayed. And she could never trust again, but you somehow broke through her shell, offering company she didn’t even realize she was craving.

It wasn’t like she was following you, or keeping tabs on where you were, or who you were sleeping with, it just so happened that the group she just finished a big college assignment with wanted to celebrate so they made her go with them. And the other two she knew about? Rumors, mainly, though she did catch sight of you with the girl, who lived a block away from Cairo, last night.

What were you doing? You weren’t ruining your life, entirely at the very least, you still managed to keep up with the classes, but you were drunk for most of the day, and if you weren’t drunk, you were hungover. Why did you break up again?

Oh, yeah, because she wasn’t ready to fully commit to the relationship, afraid of getting burnt again, and chose the worst possible option. She just ended it all, over a text, no conversation, no explanation, she just sent the message and blocked you everywhere. She couldn’t ask for forgiveness, though she greatly regretted what she did. She couldn’t watch you take that girl to your apartment, or go to her apartment, though.

So, she said goodbye to the group she came to the bar with and made her way toward you through the crowd of drunk partying people wasting away their free time. “Y/N,” she called out to you over the loud music and she watched as you staggered back, your eyes gaining some clarity as you recognized her.

“Cairo,” you slurred, your hand falling from the blonde’s hips.

“Come with me,” she didn’t wait for you to respond, she didn’t wait for the surprised, and a bit to drunk to understand what was going on, blonde to catch up with what was going on either. She just grabbed your hand and pulled you along. And you let her drag you to the counter and pay for your and hers bill and dragged you outside to look for a cab.

“What are you doing? I was having fun in there,” you leaned against the lamppost, barely standing and not even looking as the bright lights probably made your head hurt.

“By ruining your liver?” Cairo snarked, much more annoyed than she hoped she would be. This wasn’t her business, even if she stopped you tonight what was she supposed to do? Babysit you until you got your shit together? She didn’t have time for that.

A voice in the back of her head told her she was probably the one who pushed you toward this behavior. Her consciousness, perhaps?

“None of your damn business,” you glared at her and she hated seeing that look in your eyes directed at her.

“Right, get in,” she dragged you along as the cab pulled up and she gave the driver her address.

It took her a while, but she managed to get you to her apartment and to the sofa in her living room. She took your shoes off and pretty much pushed you to lie down before she went to get a blanket. When she came back you were already asleep, and she wondered how you managed to actually fuck any of those girls when you were this drunk?

She wasn’t jealous. She just wondered.

She made her decision, she broke up with you.

She still found herself thinking about you every now and then, because truly, you didn’t deserve it. You treated her right, better than anyone before you, that was for sure, you didn’t quite share her interests, but you were more than willing to listen, to grow by experiencing them with her. She could count on you if she wanted a thought-provoking debate, or a passionate night. She could talk for hours with you, or be perfectly comfortable in complete silence.

And she ended it.

And she thought it didn’t matter to her, but as she watched you sleeping there all the times you spent together came back and she… she wanted to fix things, to get a second chance, to make it work this time. And if anyone asked, no, a tear didn’t fall from her eye as you mumbled her name.

~X~

You woke up with a pounding headache, expecting to see a blonde next to you on the bed. Instead you were hit with the smell of spring field, the scent Cairo used when washing her clothes and everything else. You blinked at that and groaned, burying your face in the pillow. The books surrounded you, on the shelf, on the coffee table, everywhere and you only knew one person that had this kind of apartment…

“Damn it,” you cursed, tempted to just walk out and pretend this didn’t happen.

“Damn it, indeed,” and so much for that plan, you turned to the side, toward her bedroom doors and saw her, just as beautiful, enchanting even, as she was the last time you saw her. Before she went and broke up with you over a text and blocked you on everything. And then promptly refused to even acknowledge you existed despite your attempts to at least talk to her to make sure you didn’t hurt her somehow.

“Cairo,” you sighed, sitting up slowly to avoid making the headache even worse.

“Y/N,” she nodded, walking over to the kitchen and bringing you a glass of water and aspirin.

You just watched her, frankly curious and suspicious at the same time. What was her deal? Breaking up with you like that and now acting like this. So, once you downed the aspirin and water, you turned your attention, or as much of it as your headache allowed to Cairo. “What are you doing?”

She sat down in the armchair to your left and you were reminded of all the times you’d spend here, working on some assignment, together, or separately, not really caring as long as you were together. “Babysitting you, sine you clearly can’t help but get drunk and fuck any girl that doesn’t look like me,” she sounded like she had the guts to actually accuse you of doing that, and sure, it was true, and you would be the first to admit it wasn’t the healthiest coping mechanism but…

“How I choose to get over you is none of your business,” you bit out, feeling the anger and frustration from the month that passed since she broke up with you reaching a boiling point.

“Don’t,” she suddenly said.

And you stopped, flabbergasted by her response. “Don’t what?”

“Get over me,” she dared to say, and you laughed, looking away from her in utter disbelief.

‘Don’t get over her’ that was what she said? After all this time that was what she was telling you? That she sort of regretted breaking up with you.

“Are you for real right now? You sent me a text, blocked me and then acted like I didn’t exist!” you raised your voice, angry at her.

“I know,” she nodded, not even looking for an excuse.

You snorted. “You know? No, that’s amazing, you are unbelievable, you know? You really expect me to run into your arms? After everything?” you demanded.

Cairo shook her head, but you saw her biting her lower lip. “Y/N, I made a mistake, I apologize. I shouldn’t have hurt you like that,” the cracks in her unbreakable mask appeared, and she closed her eyes, missing the surprise on your face. “I was afraid of getting hurt again.”

So, she hurt you instead, before you could hurt her. She told you, on one long night, what happened to her, with Miller and her best friend, and as much as she hurt you, you somewhat understood her fear. “Do you have any idea how many times I got slapped or just kicked out because I called a girl your name? No matter how different they looked? You’re all I can fucking see,” you still loved her, because as much as she hurt you the time you spent together was some of the best time of your life, you thought she was the one. “How can I trust you not to do this again?”

Cairo looked at you, surprised, tears filling her eyes though she tried to hold them back. “I can’t blame you if you choose not to trust me again, I probably wouldn’t be able to trust you if our positions were switched,” she confessed.

You reluctantly opened your arm and gestured for her to come closer, and though surprised she did. She sat down next to you and hugged you, her hands wrapping around you tightly as you hugged her back. It still felt right. This. Being in each other’s arms.

“I need a bit of time, I need to take it slow if you want to give this, us, another chance,” you said, knowing that you couldn’t keep destroying yourself over this, and that maybe, much like her actions poisoned your life, they could be the antidote you needed.

Cairo nodded. “As much time as you need, I’ll be right here waiting,” she promised, the conviction in her voice made you believe that maybe, just maybe, reconsidering this relationship wouldn’t be the worst outcome you could imagine.

#cairo sweet x female reader #cairo sweet x reader #cairo sweet #miller's girl #jenna ortega x reader #x reader #x female reader

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missfrustration · 7 months ago

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strictly psychic business (reigen arataka x fem!reader) 18+

A/N: my first fanfic i wrote on ao3 two years ago. part 1 of the "strictly messin' with a psychic" series.

rating: explicit! minors do not interact please!

tags: smut, porn with plot, vaginal sex, oral sex, good person reigen arataka, smoking, one night stands, hook-up, top reigen arataka, light dom/sub, bro eats it like a madman, wacky socks, consent is sexy!!, no use of y/n

word count: 8k

part 1 part 2

You held the invitation to tonight's networking mixer in your right hand and your purse in your left as you scampered down the street. You were about a block away from the most prominent business event center in downtown Seasoning City, running slightly late. You cursed yourself for taking too long to get ready. On top of that, you should’ve figured that being a visitor of this side of town also meant it would take you longer to get there due to the unfamiliarity.

Looking in the mirror earlier, you felt too good to walk out the door so fast. You donned a silky blue mid-length dress that hugged your curves while still being modest. The front was a very subtle v-cut, while the back revealed almost half of your back. Your hair was styled earlier this morning, and your makeup was soft glam with a hint of dramatic brown eyeliner. Because of this, you had sway with each step of your walk that slightly lessened as you reached the event’s doors.

As you glance at the fancy door’s golden handle, you hear a voice coming from inside. You cringe, knowing it’s the host of the event. As you slowly open the door, your suspicions are confirmed. The CEO of the host company is finishing his welcoming speech, as everyone watches him on the main floor. This is horrible timing for you to walk in, but you take your chances. You meet a few pairs of eyes slightly gawking at you once you enter the room. They seem stragglers themselves from the way they are distanced from the main crowd, so you don’t mind.

As the host bro makes one more finishing statement, you scan the room more as people start to clap. You are hoping to spot some familiar faces from your company, only to be disappointed by the mass of bodies mostly turned away from you. Although it was a little isolating, you think you blended in with the others well enough that no one was giving you scowls.

From the corner of the hall, you spot a man that captures your attention. While everyone’s formed social cliques, is on their best behavior, and in classy attire, the man before you is the exact opposite. This dirty blonde in a tacky, gray suit is lazily leaning against the wall about 50 feet away from you. Plastered on his face is the most indifferent look you’ve ever seen. You notice his legs crossed over which reveal…some very eye-catching socks. Because of the distance, you can’t see the design save for the neon yellow and deep brown they have on them. They are very noticeable under his suit pants that were tailored too short for his legs. It’s impossible to tell if his pants were intentionally short or if it was just secondhand. One hand is resting above his head while the other is picking in between his teeth. As the audience roars with applause, he kicks off the wall and yawns.

People start to disperse around the hall now, both talking amongst themselves and heading to the different fancy food stands. You lock your eyes back on the blonde, only to be met with his eyes. He’s looking straight at you with a goofy smirk on his face. Before you could react, the contact was broken from the groups of people filling your vision. You get slightly annoyed at the crowd, and keep staring, waiting for the commotion to clear up. By the time you could look again, he was gone. You click your tongue, feeling like an idiot for trying to stare at some random stranger. ‘Whatever,’ you think, ‘let’s get this thing over with.’

About an hour has gone by since you arrived at the venue, and you’ve been relentlessly worn out. After meeting with some colleagues shortly after arriving, you meet some of the businessmen who are associated with the main companies that have sponsored the event. While you let your colleagues do most of the talking, you half-heartedly listened in on the conversations. You despised the networking aspect of your job. You could tell everyone, including collogues, feigned an excessively polite attitude while speaking to one another. It was all an act to create these hallow connections. After about an hour of this, with a minimal amount of business cards and contacts in your pocket, you dismissed yourself and found your way to the luxurious bar area. Typically, mixers don’t provide bars, much fewer ones that are all expenses paid. You can’t believe they had all this money to sponsor this… so you were taking advantage of it for the rest of the night. As soon as you got there, you flagged the bartender and ordered a vodka lime. As you sipped, you scanned faces at the bar table. If only…

You would want to talk to him. Out of all the different suited men, he was the most on your mind tonight. Exactly why, you weren't sure, but being able to ask him why he was here in such an idle way would give a little clarity. You wanted to know why you found him so enticing.

Then you spotted him.

He’s at the end of the bar with a big platter of food and a lemon sour. His finger is in his ear, and he slightly squints when pulling it out. Oh wow. And he doesn’t give a fuck. Hm.

By the time you decide if sparking a conversation is a good idea, you’ve already sauntered over to him. After your first glass, you were acting impulsive. His platter of food looks like it was previously filled to the brim judging by the number of empty toothpicks and cherry stems that scatter the plate. Only a few fruit cubes and a mini sandwich are what's left. You stop in front of him and briefly check out his socks. Upon close inspection, you can finally figure out that the brown and yellow socks he’s wearing are crudely drawn cartoons of monkeys and bananas, respectively. Oh, tooo funny, you thought. He sways his head up to look at you, slightly chewing the rest of the contents in his mouth as he tilts his head.

“Hey there.” You stifle a laugh. “Nice socks.”

“Hey, it’s you from earlier. That girl who came in super late. Thanks, I take pride in my appearance.” He emphasized the super and pointed to you as he took a small sandwich held up by a toothpick on his platter and chomped into it.

“Wow, the one and only. This seat taken?”

“What do you think? Be my guest, sweet thing.” He gestures towards it dramatically as you scoff at the name and sit.

“It’s not sweet thing,” you proceed to informally introduce yourself to the man with your name. “By the way, I didn’t stand out as much as you, Mister… uhh-”

“It’s Reigen. Reigen Arataka. The Greatest Psychic of the 21st Century is at your service. I would give you a business card but I’ve run out for tonight. You interested in my services?”

Not the services you typically offer. You thought. Stifling a laugh, you continue, “Psychic, huh? Why the hell did you get invited to a tech mixer? This doesn’t seem to be your scene anyway.”

“I’m just that good I’m needed everywhere. Actually, I could ask the same out of you, Miss I’m-too-pretty-for-this-place.” He emphasizes the last sentence with flashy hand movements, finishes the sandwich, and starts gnawing on the toothpick with a rather indifferent expression. Rodent-style.

You held back a blush at his subtle compliment and fire back, “That so? I was required to come here for company reasons and not of my own accord. Now, why don’t you answer my question about why you’re really here? I’m not buying your story.” You lean forward in your seat and look right at Reigen. He looks at you with a somewhat confused face, puts down his now abused toothpick, and sighs.

“I don’t fancy your attitude, I might just not tell you. Not that it’ll matter either way.”

“What about another drink in return?” You use your thumb to point at his now empty glass, offering to get him a new one in exchange for some answers. He’s fascinated you at this point, so you would love to see this conversation fully.

“I’ll pass. ‘M not trying to piss myself blackout drunk at the nearest gas station.” As he says this, he reaches into his suit pocket and grabs a pack of smokes. “Care for a cancer stick instead?”

“If I get what I want.” He shrugs at your response as you both head out to the nearest exit. It seems to be an outdoor patio about a hundred feet away from the bar and would be considered vacant save for the few bunch hanging around.

“Fine by me.” He responds. After two attempts, Reigen takes one cig out of the box with his mouth. He then meekly takes one out for you, and quickly retreats the pack in his pocket. The cigarette starts wiggling up and down gently in his mouth as you both start walking to the outdoor patio. As you watch him do this you nearly trip into the screen door. Reigen opens it for you in time, however. You hear him snort as he maneuvers his arm to keep it from bumping into you. It’s a small, sweet, and awkward gesture.

As you walk out, you met with a slightly cool air kissing your skin and amber lights dangling on the pergolas above you. There are a few seating areas with even fewer suited men smoking cigars and chatting. You both migrate to the balcony area, which looks over Downtown Seasoning City. It’s a beautiful sight that wraps up the whole venue, even if it’s not as noticeable to most of the guests.

“So… you're in tech?” Reigen hands you your smoke as he pulls out his lighter and brings it to his fresh one. It takes a considerable amount of flicks to light up and barely lasted long enough to light up the cigarette.

You shrug, largely unengaged with his question. “Yeah, software developer- My turn, what’s your angle? You should answer this time.” You lean back against the balcony with a smirk and lock eyes with him.

“You wanna know that bad huh?”

You nod, moving in closer.

“For the food honestly. That’s my answer, you happy?” He gives you a shit-eating grin, obviously enjoying the annoyed look on your face.

You pause for a moment and sigh, “Guess I shouldn’t be surprised. Oh well.” He chuckles at your response before it eventually dies out in the night air.

There is a moment of silence shared between you. Reigen drags a puff out of his cigarette as you think about excusing yourself. You should’ve guessed that you wouldn’t be satisfied with the answer of the man with unsightly, mismatched socks. Before you can, however, he speaks up.

“I wasn’t invited actually.” He sighs. You peer up at him with a raised brow. He continues, “They saw the suit and just let me in. I came here at first wanting to advertise my services to other businesses but instead got bombarded with them doing the same thing. It was obvious they didn’t even hear what I was saying to them… they are just so dang caught up on the next line they plan to say.” He takes another long drag of his cigarette and looks out to the city. “After the first few I gave up. I guess I can’t blame them, so I thought I would stick around and eat what I can. After all, free food digs, so I’on mind.”

You hum in approval and cross your arms. He seems like the type to rarely open up to others, much less a stranger like you. You appreciated the effort. Eyes still locked on him, you chuckled “You act more naturally telling the truth. I like that. To be honest, it blows ass. Welcome to my world, baby,” You gesture to the venue dramatically and give a half-hearted chuckle. “This just comes with the territory.”

“Sounds like it sucks. I feel bad for ya.” He looks back at you, a slight blush on his face due to the cold. You see he has a somewhat nervous demeanor for a few seconds before quickly switching back to his previous suave one. The subtle compliment you’ve given him must’ve struck a chord after all. After a few moments of locking eyes, you discover the deep brown that envelops his pupils. They resemble the color of deep, rich honey. You blush at yourself due to your admiration of a nearly total stranger and have to break eye contact out of pure embarrassment. He points to your cigarette gingerly, “Uhh, you need a light… yet?” It makes you snap out of any deep thought you were in.

You nod, “Yeah, if you don’t mind.” You never smoke, but you didn’t want to deny Reigen for fear that wouldn’t have indulged in your interest in him.

He takes out the lighter from inside his suit pocket again and scoots closer to you. He gently wraps his hands around the cigarette being lightly held by your lips and tries to flick the light to life.

Flick, flick, flick. Flick. Flick, flick.

Each time Reigen flicked the lighter, a light ignited quickly but died out quicker. You figured it was due to the lighter’s life nearing its end. The gradual wind isn't helping, either. He tries a few more times with his hand cupped more and body closer to yours.

“Tch. I don’t know if you will now.” He clicks his tongue again after the last try with his cupped hand lightly brushing your nose, sending a slight shiver down your back. You peer below his face and hands and just now notice his tie has been loosened and the button-down has the top two buttons undone, showing a glimpse of his collarbone. You two are so close that if you stretched out your hand a few inches, you could touch his chest. Does he know how enticing he is right now? You feel your breath hitch at the subtle appeal of it as you come up with a great solution.

“Sorry, ‘bout that.” He puts the cigarette back in his mouth as he retreats the lighter to the nearest pocket he can reach. As he takes a step back, you find the perfect opportunity to execute your plan.

“It’s alright. I found a better way, anyway.”

“What do you m-” You quickly step up to meet his face. You take your cigarette and meet it with the lit-up end of his. You lock eyes with a now surprised Reigen as you gracefully blow in through your cigarette to light it. Your faces are so close to each other that it causes both of you to blush. Reigen hitches his breath as he looks deep into your doe-like eyes with more intrigue. He’s suddenly way more interested in your intentions than he had been up to this point. However, you can tell this is very out of his comfort zone, as when you pull away, he’s frozen with both hands in the air and a cigarette holding onto his mouth for dear life.

You try to act as suave as you can about it, however. In a tone that sounds largely unaffected by what you’ve done, you remark, “Thanks, Reigen. Didn’t know I needed that until now.” You then take a long drag off your freshly lit cigarette with a flirtatious grin. You needed the nicotine as relief at this point to calm your nerves down, both excited and nervous about how he’ll react to your advances.

It takes a moment for him to respond. “Wow, I suppose like my women forward now.” He breathily says. He somewhat fidgets with his tie as he composes himself into that rather matter-of-fact demeanor again. “Are you trying to turn me on right now? Because it is so working.” You admired the way he could switch up so fast. It made it more enticing to get him riled up. He finally caught on to your flirting, too.

“Oh, of course not, sir.” You fake feeling accused, lifting your hands in surrender. “I wanted to talk strictly business here. My work is very professional, in fact.”

He ignored how ironic it is that you state how professional you are when you were the latest out of all the people at this mixer.

“Something tells me you’re not in the mood to talk about work either,” Reigen sarcastically states as he raises an eyebrow. He lifts his cigarette to flick the ash off. It sparks something primal in you as your last sense of inhibitions finally snap.

“Oh wow, I wonder what gave it away. So,” You step in closer and lean up to whisper in his ear, “What will you do about it?” Your lips lightly brush the lobe of his ear, and Reigen jumps from your hot, moist breath.

Reigen doesn’t respond for a moment. You see a drop of sweat roll down his forehead as you feel his arms shift around you. A thought briefly passes your mind, Why is bro so sweaty? “I see,” he murmured, “Well in that case...” You suddenly feel his hand firmly on the small of your back that skims just above your ass. The grip is firm and causes your breath to hitch.

“Sorry, it’s been a while. I’m surprised,” He doesn’t look as nervous anymore, now sporting a lustful grin. You sigh in both relief and lust as he finally states, “but I get the gist of what this is.”

“Yeah? And what do you think this is?” You start to toy with his pink tie as you look at the man merely inches away from your face. The amber lights of the patio reflect on his face and bring a spark behind his eyes.

“Heh. C’mon, I’m psychic, remember? I know what you want. Let’s go already.” He gives you a mischievous look as he starts leading you off of the patio with his hand still firmly placed. You shiver so much at his touch, it's enthralling. You can’t imagine how you’ll feel if things go beyond this.

“Well, I mean,” his hand leaves you as both wave around so frantically it's hard to follow. He abruptly stops and holds out his hand, inviting you to take it. He releases a breath that seems less easygoing than Reigen hoped for, and more exaggerated. “Uh, no pressure. Only if you want.”

You stifle a laugh as he gingerly takes your hand in his. You can feel the slight, no scratch that, excessive clamminess in his hands. You find it cute, but really… why is bro sweating so much? Whatever, a risk to spend the night with him is just what you need.

“You’ve caught me, Reigen. My hotel is only a few blocks away. Now, show me what a psychic can really do.”

As soon as you closed the door to your hotel suite you kick your shoes off, ready to jump Reigen. You spent the travel to your hotel mostly in idle conversation. Just from the few minutes, you learn that Reigen’s life is filled with interest that makes you further intrigued by his mystique. While it made you more intrigued, it made you even hornier.

What could you say, you were willing to see what powers this psychic really packed.

By the time you were prepared to pounce, you felt his hands latch onto you. With a soft but steady grip, Reigen pinned you against the wooden door of the hotel room. You shuddered at his forwardness, as well as the cold surface your semi-bare back was pressed up against. He doesn’t do anything following this for a while, however, and you squirm under his gaze for a moment before you break the silence.

“Hey,” You awkwardly said.

“Hey,” He says back. “This… this is okay, right?”

He lightly brushes your shoulder with his thumb, showing that’s what he was talking about.

“You’re cute. You ask me that after pinning me?” You blush as you giggle.

He blushes in embarrassment and rubs his hand behind his head. “Man, my fault… you’re sexy. You’re right, though. I apologize.”

You breathily respond, “It’s okay,”

“I can kiss you though, right?” He asks in barely a whisper as he leans in closer to almost touch your lips. You softly smile, nodding your approval. Like clockwork, you feel his lips press against yours tenderly for the first time. They are warm and soft, but a little chapped at the fullest part. His hand reaches the bottom of your jaw to lightly lift it, deepening the kiss. As you melt into it, a soft breath lewdly escapes you.

You want more of him, so much more than a kiss. You needed it now. Wanton ignites in your core as you hold his head between your hands. Your tongue reaches between his twitching lips, pleading for entrance. To your satisfaction, he swiftly obliges and invitingly parts his lips for you. You feel him shudder against you as you slip your tongue to collide with his. It ignites something in him, further deepening the kiss as much as he can.

The tender kiss you both shared is now escalating into an intense makeout session. With it, comes a plethora of flavors on his tongue that dances with yours. You taste the hints of lemon sour on his tongue, along with a slight taste of the food bar helpings he had at the mixer earlier. Above all, the taste of tobacco from earlier lingers, covering the insides of his mouth. You so softly shiver from the sensation.

Tonight was the night exclusive for only the two of you. It’s a night full of impulse and lust, which you would love to take to the fullest. Reigen must feel the same too, as confirmed by his break of the kiss. He must be reading your mind or something with how great his timing is. He lightly hovers his hand over the smallest part of your waist and looks deep into your eyes, “Is it good to touch you here?”

You meet him with the prettiest doe-eyes Reigen has ever seen. Although he peers into innocent hues of brown, he’s thinking of anything but innocent thoughts. After a moment of catching your breath, you give him a nod yes, which he instantly reacts to. However, he’s relieved that your waist is still clothed by your dress, as his now extremely clammy palms won’t be detected by you just yet.

He places his palm firmly on your waist and slides it up and down to gently caress it as continues his tirade on your mouth. You softly groan into it as your tongues dance together. His grip presses into your skin firmly, further locking you between him and the cool wooden door on your back.

He breaks the makeout periodically and asks the same question for your shoulders, down to your waist again, down to your hips. His touch is slowly driving you wild. It’s like he’s slowly teasing you, waiting for the perfect time to take it a step further. It’s riling you up and leaves you panting, wanting more.

With his free hand, he brushes your hair back and breaks the kiss once more. In a breathy rasp, he asks, “Can I kiss right here?” With his lips now hovered over the side of your neck.

Your core tingles at his words. In anticipation, you hold your breath as you whisper yes. He hungrily takes your neck in his mouth, starting with a wet kiss in the center. He connects his tongue to the kissed skin and traces it down to the top of your shoulder. You lull your head to the side to give him more room to work his magic. He stops briefly to caress your waist more as he travels back to the neck. He takes his lips and slowly peppers your neck with small kisses right up to the ear. You lean into his mouth as it slowly sucks onto the lobe of your ear. It sends a shiver down your spine as you mewl in approval. Your ears are too sensitive for this in all the right ways.

“What… What about here?” You hear the faint shudder in his voice as he whispers in your ear. His voice sends a spark from you as you realize what he’s asking. You peer down to see his hand lightly brushing over your left breast. Satisfaction washes over you after what has felt like hours of this little game he’s been playing.

“Please, Reigen.” You panted.

That’s all the motivation he needed. He releases a hot breath of relief, you squeak a little as he grabs your clothed breast in his hand and squeezes. His mouth stays on your ear as he nips and pecks all over. You instinctively grab a head full of his hair and tug at it as you slightly pant.

His touch is driving you crazy, your body feels like it’s being put into a trance by this psychic. It was so much, it wasn't enough. Either way, you knew that you needed more from him. You jump the gun and lean into him.

“Please touch me more, Reigen. I need more.”

Your words snap him out of his actions as he locks eyes with you, a bead of sweat rolling down his face as he responds. “My bad… it’s been a while. What do you want me to do exactly?” The pitch in his voice rises higher than it needs to at the last sentence.

You take Reigen’s tie in your hand as you lead him into the bedroom part of your suite. “First, can you help me with this zipper?” You turn around so your back is facing him.

“Oh, sure thing.” You think it takes him a bit to realize you mean the dress zipper, as Reigen stands idle for a moment. After a few moments, you hear him shift and land his hands on you.

He somewhat fidgets with the dress, lightly grazing the bare area of your back and checking the edges of the fabric for the zipper. You barely hear him murmur, ”What the- how do I even get this thing off...Ah! There we go.” which causes you to giggle.

“Got it- Hey, don’t laugh!” He lightly stammers. You both revel in an awkward moment, which pauses as soon as you both hear your dress fall to the ground. You forgot the zipper of the dress reaches down to your ass, which makes the dress instantly slip off if zipped down all the way.

The chilly air of the air-conditioned hotel suite instantly hit your back as you indistinctly arched into Reigen. His hands land on you as you fall back into him. Instantly, the concentration of his scent is prevalent when you lay the back of your head on his shoulder. You smell the cheap cologne he had on his neck, and the musk he carried which must’ve elevated from the amount he’s been sweating tonight. Finally, you could detect the familiar smell of cigarettes on his clothes.

“You… really don’t know what you’re doing to me right now.” He peers down at your now highly bare body with more of his hot breath landing on you. As you turned around to face him, he has a full view of your figure. Except for your frilly panties covering your ass, you left nothing to the imagination. You watch as Reigen slowly gazes at every curve and edge of your figure. From the plushness of your lips to the fat on your arms, the fullness of your chest and hardened nipples, to the small of your waist and wide hips you have, to the plump shine of your legs.

“God, you’re so sexy like that. I won’t be able to resist myself anymore.” He spits out. He covers his mouth with his hand as a dark blush envelope both of you.

You place his hand on your cheek and look up, “Then, touch me wherever you want.” You plead with him.

That seems to do the trick. He locks you into yet another feverish kiss as you help him out of his upper garments. He throws his blazer to the side. The pink tie swiftly slips off of him along with the button-up you both work on taking off. You instantly claim the newly exposed skin with your hands as he does to you. You feel the slight sweat on his body and palms as you both explore each other. He keenly grasps your breast once again, and you moan in excitement. He studies your face to see its reaction as he toys with both of your hardened nipples in between his fingers. He leans down and pops one into his mouth while continuing to play with the other. You rake your nails down his back, which causes his teeth to graze over the areola, sending electricity down your spine and heat through your core. You arch your back and lightly pant from the sensation.

Reigen comes back up with a pop that echoes throughout the room. He groans in approval. You were on fire with lust at this point. Needing relief, you grabbed his chin and lean into him.

“Reigen,” You mewl in his ear, “I’m gonna be honest with you. I'm really fucking wet right now and I might die if you don't do something about it asap.”

You swear you feel Reigen slightly jump into you in response. Suddenly in one fluid motion, he squats down, picks you up by your middle, and lifts you. Instead of dropping you, he carries you to the bed and softly presses you into the sheets. He sits back up and catches his breath, wiping the sweat off his brow. You raise your eyebrow, waiting for his response.

“I can uh, definitely do that for you. Now, is that a comfortable position for you?”

You gulp and nod your head. You rub your thighs together in anticipation as you realize just how wet you are. Your underwear feels slick against your heat due to how sodden it is. You whimper a little from the sensation as Reigen perks up from your sounds. He also craves more of you as you do him. He’s about to show you how serious he is about this.

“Great. Can I take this off?” Reigen gently asks, standing over you from the bed. You hold your breath and nod as his skinny fingers instantly hook around your panties. You feel the garment slowly slide down your legs, closing them to not reveal to Reigen how wet you are. You watch as he tosses them to the side and looks at you with a confused look.

You’ve grown a little nervous now, biting your lip and looking away from him to not reveal anything. It’s embarrassing that you didn’t think about this until after the man has you stripped down to the tee: you haven’t shaved in a bit. It’s not too bad, but it would be enough to ruin his night if he’s into bare skin only.

“Um, I haven’t… I haven’t shaved in a few-”

“A real man hunts through the jungle.” He deadpans.

“H-huh?”

“You heard me. I take pride in… well, you’ll see. But you won’t see if you’re like this.” Reigen sighs, gesturing to your body and slightly pinching the bridge of his nose before looking back to you. “What I’m trying to say is, it doesn’t matter to me if you have or haven’t.”

On his immediate response and genuine tone, you could tell he was serious. Of course, you still wanted to do this, but still, your thighs rubbed together, causing you to blush even harder. You feel his thumb gently on the plumpness of your calf.

“Relax. Open sesame.” He softly orders, raising an eyebrow. “Will you do that for me, darling?”

You swallow thickly. Now that you think about it, it’s him. The psychic before you sweats a little excessively and has the least business casual socks you’ve ever seen. You trust him, nod back to him, and begin spreading your legs. He smirks in satisfaction, blushing deeply.

“I’ll show you how much that means to me.” He soothed.

He grips both inner thighs and spreads them for a full view, causing you to bite your lip and squirm under his gaze.

“Wow,” Reigen stammers, “you weren’t kidding when you said wet.”

Reigen admires as your cunt glistens in the moonlight. Its illumination makes your juices almost sparkle as it seeps around your lips and down to your ass. “So beautiful.” He thinks out loud.

You feel his hot breath tingle against your heat, causing you to whimper in pure wanton.

“Please, please-” A moan rips through your throat and stops the words in their tracks when you feel Reigen’s hot tongue glide against your inner thigh.

“Relax, I said. I’ll take care of it.” He cooes, wanting to let his mouth do the talking.

His fingers keep a hard grip on the hamstrings of your legs, not letting them close in again. His tongue traces shapes and squiggles around the skin of your inner legs–slowly reaching their way toward your pussy. You start panting in anticipation. What a fucking tease he was. The psychic knew just what to do for you to want him more.

Your hips buck up trying to meet his lips, but to no avail. You groan in frustration, cursing the grip he had on your thighs. Your pussy throbs with the need for him to go further. He gets the hint, however.

“So needy!” He playfully huffs. God, he’s a piece of work.

Your thoughts are cut short as Reigen’s tongue traces one line from the bottom of your slit, to the tip of your clit. An inhumane noise spills off of your tongue and you unconsciously wrap your calves around Reigen to envelop him. He returns to the bottom again, tongue practically gliding in and out of your folds. There was little to no friction due to how wet you’ve gotten. He’s tasting all of you with one motion.

He flattens his tongue out on top of your clit. His right-hand releases the hold on your leg as it traces around your slit. With his fore and middle finger, he squeezes your labia, sandwiching your clit between them. With his now pointed tongue, he explores the bud with urge, keeping steady eye contact with you while doing so. You tremble under him, fisting his hair.

He begins a relentless pace on your sensitive bud. Electricity runs down your spine as you buck your hips into his face further. He already buried his face into your heat, lapping up all of your juices and slowly building up those white, hot coils of pleasure you’ve been craving. With the pace he’s going, you aren’t too far off.

Reigen's dark brown eyes study you during this. He wants to enjoy every reaction, every moan, every pant that you make under his touch. Your responses help him see what certain angles and touches get you undone. With a sweaty forehead, he quickly brushes the hair out of the way as you admire him. He looks so beautiful like this.

You whip your head back in bliss, unapologetically basking in your arousal. Fisting his hair, you use it to guide him in all the right spots faster, quicker. He looks at you, with a darker blush covering your face as moans and whimpers come out of plump, parted lips. He could tell your close too, and strategically laps it up like a madman.

You come undone further when he dips two long fingers inside your folds, curling in and out at a dizzying rhythm. He perfectly reaches the gummy spots inside you and pumps into them with vigor. His tongue increases its pace, creating sloppy sounds on your swollen clit from his spit and your juices. All the stimulation he’s given and the hard eye contact he’s given you this whole time is starting to unravel you. It was becoming enough to climax you right then.

“F-fuck, Reigen!” You start to lose your composure, mewling his name over and over as your grip on his hair trembles and your legs start to spazz. Your hips sporadically jerk all over Reigen’s face as you ride out your orgasm. Your back arches, seeing hundreds of stars in your vision, and shockwaves grip your body. You sing his name one last time like it’s honey on your tongue as your entire body goes limp.

You go completely still, basking in the afterglow from Reigen’s work. You’re guessing that his way of saying that he was rusty earlier was a cop-out. He was way too skilled for his own good. Frankly, if this is his version of being rusty, you are nervous about what he’d be like if he brushed up more on his game.

After a moment, Reigen comes back up and looks at you, finally pulling his fingers out of you.

“Holy crap! You came pretty quickly.” You glance at his face. Different types of juices from your pussy and his mouth have covered his whole face and dripped down his chin. His hand is floating in the air, with fingers covered in some of your creamy, sticky substance.

“No shit. You’re really good at that.” You cooed, sitting up.

“Of course. I take pride in all of my abilities.” He smirks.

He lays his fingers on your bottom lip, inviting you to suck on them. Looking deep into his eyes, you do so graciously. You messily lick it up, tasting the tanginess you’ve made. He seems pretty satisfied with this.

You just now notice the ache in his pants. Under his suit pants, his throbbing dick is almost begging to be let out. He notices you staring right at the tent, causing him to palm it for some release. His face slightly scrunches up, and you realize he needs this as much as you do.

“What do you want to do now, Reigen?” You roll his name on your tongue like butter.

His lips meet yours, causing you to taste yourself once again and focus straight on Reigen when he pulls away.

“I want to see you, I want to see you come,” He says shamelessly staring at your body. His hot breath dances over you.

You pretend to ponder his request, acting like you have to consider if you want to or not. “Hmm. I think we can work something out.” You respond, seeing some relief washing over his body.

With grace, you start undoing his belt for him. You unbuckle it, tossing it over with the other abandoned garments. He finishes the rest, shimmying off the suit pants and boxers, giving you a very generous view of what he was hiding.

You gulped at the girth of his cock. Under the shine of moonlight, you can see the length is average but very thick in girth. The tip was pink with a shaft decorated with several veins. Honestly, it doesn’t match up with the skinny build he has, but you weren’t complaining. Reigen watches as you lick your lips, telling him you like what you’re seeing.

The first impressions of his freed member completely distracted you from those socks again. Now without his pants covering them, you see that his socks are abnormally long. They go halfway up to his calves. You blink in disbelief. Bro what.

“Again, nice socks. You keepin' them on?” You tilt your head in confusion. If he didn’t just finish giving you the best head in ages, you would have really questioned why you brought this man here. You really couldn't take mismatched monkey and banana socks seriously.

“Yup, they bring me good luck. Take this night, for example, that’s what attracted you to moi, correct?” His eyelashes playfully flutter as he flamboyantly gestures to them. He sits down on the bed, adjusting himself to directly face you.

You scoff at him and roll your eyes, trying to take him down a few pegs. “Yeah,” you giggle, “something like that.”

“Hah, that’s what I thought!” He suddenly takes the meat of your hips and pulls you towards him, causing you to gasp.

Your back falls against the bed, as Reigen sits over you.

“So, are you gonna show me what a psychic’s real powers are?” You jokingly purred.

“Only if you want me to, pretty girl.” He sits over you, rubbing the bottom of your cheek.

That’s all you want at this moment. He pulled you in the perfect position for him to sheath himself inside you at any point, sending a shiver down your spine.

“Please do, I need you inside me.” You beg him. Reigen steals your lips then in another steamy kiss, both of your bodies pressed together. His skin is warm against yours, feeling his cock rub right against you.

He pulls away and travels down your body in kisses and bites. He takes a few moments to suck the flesh around your breasts, leaving a few lovebites dancing around on your skin. When he reaches your legs, he takes both and gently places them on his shoulders.

Oh fuck. He was about to destroy you with this position.

He takes his cock, rubbing it up and down against your entrance to coat himself in your juices, earning a delicious whimper from you. He couldn’t help but admire the lewdness on your face. You look so beautiful like this to him. With one last question of consent and you nodding, he lines himself up with your entrance and tenderly pushes it in.

The feeling of him stretching you is so sensual, you start to hiss as you feel him inch by inch. You trembled, feeling your walls stretch farther than they’ve had before, taking a while for you to adjust. Every single inch you take in makes you want him more. You and Reigen both share a sigh of pleasure the deeper he plunges in, a deep blush speckling both of your skins.

“Fuck… hah, that's good. You have… no idea what you’re doing to me right now.” He grunts. His voice felt like a drug to you. He finally sheaths himself in you, feeling dizzy by how you swallowed him up with such warmth. He couldn’t control himself anymore.

“Show me then, Ara-AH!” You gasped as he suddenly pulls out just to hilt himself again, urgently. Seeing how well you’ve taken him, he continues with a raw, languid pace of pumps into your core.

Indescribable pleasure fills your body like electricity as your back arches. You feel stars each time he pulls out just to thrust himself back in again. Still, you haven’t fully adjusted to his girth, turning you into a moaning mess. You try to cover your mouth to stop the unholy noises from coming as your body clamps down around him. To no avail, you can’t even bite down on your lip to stifle them. You look at him, admiring the sweat running down his forehead as he lets out breathy groans and grunts from above. You grab onto his arm, nails digging into his flesh as you shudder from his girth. His face contorts into one of pure pleasure at each pump he dishes out to you, his hips powering the movements with vigor.

Your toes curl at the delicious sensation that you feel each time he fills you up. As pleasure takes over pain, you were desperate to move along with him. Unfortunately, your legs that are wrapped over his shoulders pinned you against him and the mattress, making it hard to move them against his firm shoulders. Your hips slightly roll up, bucking to meet his, resulting in a shock of pain and pleasure reaching you as he hits your g-spot just right.

You instantly dissolve into pleasure, lewdly reciting his name on your tongue like it was the death of you. With each pump, he was carefully unraveling you into a hot mess as you reached closer and closer to your climax

Against your better judgment, you moan his given name more, followed by a symphony of pleasurable hums and moans.

“Ugh, please say that again.” His pleading voice sounds so angelic, you had to oblige.

“Yes… Arataka. Hah…” You breathily moan.

“Again.” He growls, pulling out and pounding in even harder than before. The room radiates with the clapping of his balls against your wet cunt. Its lewd sounds and a new wave of pleasure from Reigen’s girth puts you into a new wave of existence.

“S-shit!” You follow with even more whines of his name. His pleas to keep you talking have you turned into an incoherent, blubbering mess under him. It was fucking hot being ordered around like this. You wouldn’t be able to resist the climax anymore

He picks up to an unrelenting pace, with his hips snapping up and down relentlessly on your already sore cunt. His hands lock onto the edges of your hips, giving him more force to pound into you. You squint your eyes shut and your knuckles turn white, awaiting the right moment to peak your crescendo. You just needed a little bit more.

In between his thrusts, it’s almost as if Reigen read your mind, knowing exactly what you need. In a slight pause, he praises you. “Jesus, you’re beautiful.”

His words push you over the edge. You thrash under his body, the orgasm taking over your entire being. You silently scream in pleasure with the widest mouth you could muster. You clamp around his member as spasms radiate throughout your body. Reigen’s breath hitches, watching the angelic show you’re giving him and almost stopping from how hard your walls have started squeezing around him. It flared a newborn vigor for him, however, as he tries to jackhammer through to his end.

After the first few seconds of the first wave, you whimper numerous profanities and praises on your tongue, barely registering what you are saying. You feel almost drunk off of Reigen’s touch, bucking up for more satisfaction.

Meanwhile, the show you’ve been giving Reigen sure has done well. He calls your name in pleasure, looking down at your flushed face as he also starts to slowly teeter over the brink of cumming. His pace is relentless, trying to chase of own end.

At times like this, you think it’d be good to give some words of encouragement. “Please, cum for me, Arataka.”

His damn explodes, shooting ropes of white hot cum inside of you. Reigen weakly rides it out, giving airy moans with each mindless thrust. Your walls milk every last drop of his seed that he has to offer to you, as his hips violently sheath into you once last time.

His body quakes under you as he also goes limp. He practically falls on top of you, your tits giving him a perfect cushion to rest his head upon. You gracefully accept, however, enveloping his sweaty body and damp hair around your arms.

You both take a moment to catch your breath, amazed with each other and yourselves for what a mixer night has brought. There’s nothing in the air for a while except for the two of you breathily recovering in your afterglow.

You mindlessly run your fingers through his dampened hair, fully satisfied by what this man had to offer to you. He put that work in, which was highlighted by the ripeness of his sweat.

After the silence of the night takes over, and you both have recovered from your climaxes, you look at his face, softly giggling when you see he’s been peeking up at you this whole time.

“Yeah. Not too fucking bad for a night, Mr. Psychic.” You purr to him.

“You said it, alright.” He responds, brushing the remaining strands of hair on your forehead. He pauses, “Y’know, if you ever want more of my services, definitely call whenever you need a, uh- spirit exorcism. I always treat my clients well.”

“I’m sure you do, Reigen.”

------

Part 2 here!

ao3 | tiktok | kofi | masterlist

#reigen arataka #mob psycho reigen #reigen arataka x reader #mp100 #mp100 reigen #mob psycho 100 #reader insert #x reader #fem reader #fanfic #my fanfic

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lilcocoluv · 2 months ago

Text

SHE OWNS IT!

ft luigi mangione x f1!reader

i never feared death or dyin’ i only feared never tryin’ i am whatever i am only God can judge me now We Own It, 2 Chainz & Wiz Khalifa

authors note!: f1 has started, yippy! yes, i’m a ferrari fan—and yes, i am heartbroken and actively trying to ignore what happened for the season opener. also, i'm new to headcanons so this is longer than normal, please bear with me.

content warnings!: unrealistic progression of falling in love, he speaks italian, inaccuracies of italian speaking, perhaps even racing (?) becuz author can't keep up with fia, female driver (sue me), platonic relations with the grid, underlying beef with some drivers, a vv tiny amount of smut, ferrari is actually smart (?), 2024 grid setup (expect carlos is in williams) *i don’t think any of that matters but still*

status!: i am open to requests but please be patient with me. i am a student currently going through midterms with chronic writing blocks and procrastination (and i have a life!)

18+ only. don't like? block and do not interact with me. your media consumption is not my responsibility. i did not use the main tag for luigi so it is your problem if you're somehow reading this with dismay.

─────────˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ˖─────────

THE BEGINNING: the meeting.

you two met during a race week–the home of two religions; the catholic church and Ferrari. the ironic home, rooted and nurtured by the loyalty engraved into the hearts of the italians and international fans alike. where legends are born and come to die.

he came only because of his friends and for the sake of living life to the fullest–plus he was Italian after all so attending the f1race in the home of ferrari only seemed right.

it’s the cliche trope: bumping into each other. you were preparing for the race after qualifying, earning yourself p3 to the proud hearts of ferrari fans (only heightened after charles got himself p2), and he was looking for some homeland shaved.

he flirts while trying his best to act like he doesn't know you and how incredibly important you are to women everywhere but he does break

"you're a fan, no?" you ask with a smirk at his eyes widening as he tries to force out reply

he goes with the smooth and hopefully charming comeback, relying on his heritage, "è una cosa che viene dall'essere italiani"

he ends up with a photo of you together and your number in his phone and vise versa

that day in the Grand Prix, you finished second following Charles in 1st; shortly after the podium filled with some tears and a whole lot of smiling and cheering along with singing the anthem with pride engulfing you—your phone binged repeatedly of “congratulations!” and “so proud of you” yet only one caught your eye: from luigi sending his praise and an invitation to late night celebrations with shaved ice and some drinks

let’s just say charles and the ferrari team were a bit disappointed when you let them know you couldn’t come to the afterparty but would join them the next day at the factory

INTO THE RELATIONSHIP: the dynamic, one year and half later.

you two are weirdly compatible; he lives for traveling so he most often than not is coming with you to every race–and loves the summer/winter break; and you always enjoy slow days where peace and silence is the only thing you know and he embodies just that

you kept the relationship underwraps for awhile—five months to be exact

though, he understood and respected your boundaries, he still wanted to yell on the top of mountains that; “i am in love and am so proud of my girl!” but he would journal it instead.

hard launch the relationship during the season opener with him, proudly by your side, and hands intertwined

it took awhile for him to get used to the fans suddenly asking him for a photo or at least saying a “hi”/”hope you're well” but he surprisedly set boundaries well through a instagram story:

“hello to all the new people! thank you for the warm welcome as well. just wanted to set some boundaries: i’m a people person but not always up for photos. i still appreciate you guys being so kind and i will take photos with you when i am, what some say, mentally prepared.”

also the fans, especially the italian fans, love the fact he's italian-american, they're so proud that one of their own managed to bag a driver of their second religion

speaking of social media, he is a lot more active on instagram—not everyday and not more than thirty minutes—but suddenly it is more than just his face and the travels, it’d start being you and the races

story highlights! gosh two highlights: one for views on the road, and the other for you (he’s so proud and obsessed with you its not even funny)

he gets along with the other wags really well! they’re welcoming and even offer some advice from their perspective especially the ones who were new to the fame that comes with being the girlfriend/now boyfriend of a driver

the camera and commentators couldn't get enough of him during the first race he publicly attended, causing a very flustered yet charming reaction of a small nod and grin: “and this…this is the boyfriend of last name—funny enough i actually saw him on my way here and he’s a great fellow.”

oh he loves hearing the technical side of things, like he is up in all the teams businesses especially the ones who help create the car—the workings of the wings, the engine, importance of tire choices and preparation, etc.

often caught on the camera almost leaning over the rope barriers to see closer to the stats of your laps versus the ideal stats, it’s so funny and cute; the fans adore it and the team does too to be honest

sometimes some of the guys from the team will actually talk to him about it, even letting him hold an old version of your wheel and explains what each button, switch and numbers mean which he appreciates since he feels like he gets to know the racing side of you more intimately

it gets to a point where your fans start comparing him to nicole scherzinger: the way he cheers for you in the garage, the stressed expression as you overtake or lead, the small pout as he focuses to how he rushes to parc ferme, arms open to you, how he looks up at the podium with a big smile and a small prinkle of tears

on this, pda in parc ferme and on the paddock is entirely up to you considering he naturally comfortable with what you want (both of you understand nothing ever too intimate): the occasion deep kiss that leaves you breathless despite the speed as his hands cradle your face, on the cheek or forehead, always hand holding

small note: his friends definitely take pics of their tv and send it to him with the message of: “youre so whipped” — “tell her congrats” — “never would’ve imagined you as a wag but hell yeah man”

another thing! since he is so into your race, trust he will be irritated, or pissed if ferrari fucks up the strategy like the camera pans to him to see the reaction of a radio after a bad call of you saying, “we should’ve pitted earlier…what do you mean i’m p12?”: hes furrowing, even a petty eye roll once he realizes they just threw away a chance of two cars in the points

if you two ever arrive earlier or stay a day or two more in the country, he’d take care of planning the activities so you can focus on either the race or relax knowing very well how the stress can catch up with you and begin to strain your mind despite the privilege to live the life you do

CLOSING THOUGHTS: a f1 driver with a travel loving, computer science boyfriend!

he is literally always there for you; he loves being the person you come to after a race, to one you search for amongst the crowd, the one who can drive you home or to the hotel and take care of you and your aching body

"do you want a massage or a hot bath? do you need some painkillers? some water?"

or the one to worship it with kisses leading to the area where he makes you scream his name out as if he were the driver and he just won, the one to help you ride out another type of ecstasy and holds you while you shake and whimper

his voice comforting you, sending shivers down your spine as you wiggled out of pleasure: "sei così forte" - "eri così bella lassù" - "vincere non è mai stato così bello"

he'd always be willing to do whatever to make sure you felt good, healthy and relax between races; offering a safe and comfortable space for you to confide and melt away, stepping out of the strong and all powerful woman you had to be in the harsh cameras where weakness almost seemed forbidden

it is all new to him, almost a foreign land where he needed to relearn how to stay true to himself and at the same time, navigate you; a new landscape, a new language, a new way of being but it is all worth it

"i don't mind it, i mean, it's new and very...unexpected, but as long as you will have me, i'll do anything to keep you. madness and all."

you two make it work in hopes of racing together to the finish line where instead of a podium, its an altar

─────────˖ ݁𖥔.☁︎.𖥔 ˖─────────

final notes!: i hope you all enjoyed this. i really liked writing this and would love to write more on this trope, so if you want some more, let me know! please leave a like, comment, or reblog. in the meantime, please stay healthy and look out for yourself. keep posting about luigi. keep being vocal. keep the spotlight on the corrupt justice system that fails the innocent. donate when you can as well. safe safe, friends. 🫶

before i sign off, here the important links to frequently visit for updates on the case and offer financial support:

legal defense of luigi mangione and more information

donate to his legal team

vanni, signing off!

#luigi mangione x reader #luigi mangione fic #Luigi Mangione imagine #Luigi Mangione fanfic #Luigi Mangione fluff #Luigi Mangione x you #im a sucker for a female driver #luigi mangione x yn

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am-i-the-asshole-official · 1 year ago

Note

AITA for asking someone not to make my art about a ship I hate?

This happened a couple months ago, but I’m still kinda unsure if I handled it correctly.

Basic rundown of events: I posted some art of a character on their own in the evening, and when I woke up the next morning, someone had reblogged with an addition about a ship that’s a big notp for me. I messaged them to ask they delete it as politely as possible, because people had been interacting with that version of the post specifically and it made me uncomfortable. They responded by saying I was being immature and needed to learn not to police what other people do on the internet. We exchanged a couple more messages, and I tried to explain my position my throughly. Neither of us was overtly hostile or anything, but I felt extremely talked down to by their tone of voice. After our conversation, we both blocked each other, and that was that. They never did delete their addition.

Why I think I might be TA: we weren’t exactly friends or anything. Neither of us followed each other. I’d seen them around in the fandom, and they’d reblogged some of my art in the past, but I think messaging someone I didn’t know instead of just blocking them might have been a bit of an overreach. Plus the ship in question is canon, and not particularly controversial or anything, so most people in the fandom probably wouldn’t have minded.

On the other hand, the ship being so unavoidable is a big part of the reason it upset me so much. It’s hard for me to exist in this fandom without having to see it constantly, and I don’t even ever mention the other character in it for fear of this exact thing happening. I’ve had people be assholes on my posts about the ship I prefer, or go out of their way to interpret my romantic posts about them platonically, or add tags to my art about how they only like my ship as backstory and not endgame. I don’t want to have to put a disclaimer every single time I post about this fandom. I just want to enjoy the things I like without being negative all the time. Which is why I figured messaging privately was more polite than making a stink where everyone could see. I specifically mentioned that I knew they wouldn’t have known and wasn’t mad.

No one actually ended up reblogging their addition, which is also a strike against me, but I got a lot of likes on specifically that version of the post, which made me scared they were going to. I hated the idea of having to turn off reblogs on a piece I’d worked pretty fucking hard on because a version I found so upsetting was in circulation. If it was just tags, I’d have blocked, but it being an addition is different. I don’t think asking people not to make my posts about it is “policing what other people do on the internet”. You’re in MY house, on MY post with MY art I spent hours on. Making additions to art posts already seems somewhat rude to me, that’s just not something you do, but I guess that’s a matter of the corner of tumblr culture you’re used it.

Also, their response felt very aggressive and condescending. They implied I was, like, a kid, and I do think I’m somewhat younger than them, but the only information about my age in my bio at the time was that I’m an adult, so it felt like a rude assumption. My age doesn’t have anything to do with it.

Again, though, I do absolutely see how my initial message could read as entitled. During the rest of our messaging, I did lose my temper a little bit at one point; I said something about how I’ve had to deal with shit in this fandom before, and I don’t remember the exact words since, again, we both blocked each other, but I know I swore at them. That might’ve come across as more aggressive than I wanted, and probably didn’t exactly help deescalate. (Can’t say for sure, I don’t have their side of the story)

Like I said, this situation was a bit ago now, but it upset me pretty bad at the time, and I’m still not entirely sure who’s in the wrong. So, AITA?

(Also to get ahead of this: please don’t make this about shipcourse in the comments. It’s not about that. They and I have similar opinions on that discourse from what I’ve gathered anyway. Thanks.)

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole #ship discourse

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stardustdiiving · 5 days ago

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Okay so going through the Rukkhadevata tag and saw one of your posts so I NEED to know: what is up with the International Teyvat Immortal Yuri Polycule. Spare no detail I'm ravenous here.

I FORGOT IVE MENTIONED FTHE ITIYP (international teyvat immortal yuri polycule’) ON THIS BLOG HELP

Massive tangent of thoughts below the cut (warning it gets kind of out of hand)

OK see. there’s less a concrete vision with this and more that I think it’s just really funny to start running with the fact Genshin is not above just canonizing lore where unexpected combinations immortal characters may know each other. Genshin in general just likes to pair up fascinating combinations of characters (like, in events and such) in a way where it gives a lot of immortal yuri crackshipping this funny sort of Canon Plausibility that’s really entertaining, especially when you start piling a lot of really specific layers of ship lore on top of each other.

To give an example: Ganyu and Yae Miko canonically know each other. This is immediately compelling. Like, okay sure both of you have been around so long as active participants in your respect nations it’s not unbelievable you guys got to know each other eventually but this raises alot of questions. How and when did you both meet. What does this mean for your respective social circles?

If you add yuri to this situation I feel you naturally have to start asking questions like “do the other Liyue adepti know about this” and “how do the Other Adepti feel about Yae Miko” which means inevitably you’re going to have to consider things like “would Cloud Retainer sit down and tell Yae Miko if she breaks Ganyu’s heart because it turns out she was just using her to cope with the fact she’s depressed Ei blocked her on Facebook after Makoto died she will peck Yae Miko within an inch of her life”. You additionally have to consider Yae Miko’s stances on any other yuri happening in the Liyue adeptus social circle. Like does Yae Miko know Guizhong and Madame Ping were gay. Does she know Does she know this. What does she think about it? Did she ever get involved for fun because Yae Miko feels like someone who probably would just be personally familiar with every immortal lesbian in Tyevat? Consequently, what do the Liyue adeptus sapphics think of Yae Miko’s weird introverted jock wife.

These are all really important things to consider. I think Ganyu and Ei would stand in the corner of a party awkwardly drinking wine because Yae Miko temporarily left them alone and Ei would be like “ummm. Thank you for….Keeping Miko company while I was In the Plane of Euthymia, Miss Ganyu” at the exact same time Ganyu is like “I’m so so sorry for going on a picnic date with your wife 231 years ago i thought you guys were Divorced and wanted to help her out because she seemed really depressed. also don’t tell her I could tell she was depressed or she’ll get scared of the emotional intimacy and explode”

And then you can just start building off of things from there. Like its canonical lore that after Egeria died in battle during the Cataclysm Rukkhadevata used her consciousness to stop the flow of Abyssal corruption in the Girdle of the Sands. this, too, can be yuri if you think about it. Who is going to stop you. The original 7 were all friends and Venti and Zhongli spent their first on screen interaction flirting at the dinner table so much they nearly gave Xiao a panic attack during the 2023 lantern rite. I feel it’s just not realistic to assume they were the only archon couple happening. We need to consider that maybe the in-game dendro/hydro bloom reaction is really good because Egeria and Rukkhadevata kissed at least once

And with Rukkhadevata being involved in this you really have to consider that any yuri you do with her curses Nahida by association. In my mind’s eye there’s a situation where the archons all meet up for the first time and Nahida and Ei are trying really hard to socialize and then Ei offhandedly drops the nuclear bomb of information referencing the fact Nahida’s previous self before she lost her memory and became like 7 years old dated her sister and Nahida’s like….what. And Ei’s like ah yes it was quite the situation. very funny. Barbados tried to get me to help you both hit it off bc he thought it would be funny but this stressed me out so I hid behind Yae Miko until it was over. And Nahida is just haunted by this information and has to go home and deal lethal amounts of psychic damage to Wanderer by informing him her previous self dated his dead aunt. The far reaching consequences of things like this are kind of compelling to me.

Im running out of steam answering this but I trust you kind of see the vision here. I just need like alot of the immortal women in teyvat to all know each other and have like an intricate web of who’s casually kind of dated/dating who that causes 20 layers of situations because of the impact it has on their respective social circles. Yae Miko is probably relevant for like 90% of it because tbh she’s probably on a first name basis with every immortal sapphic in teyvat and responsible for introducing half of them to each other . Shes organizing tea parties for them or something. Imagine this

#asks #genshin tangents

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zorosdimples · 10 months ago

Text

THESE LITTLE DEATHS OF MINE ꒰ okkotsu yuuta x reader ꒱

minors do not interact—i will block you. cw: angst. reader’s stream-of-consciousness and emotions regarding yuuta’s line of work. ambiguous ending (hope is alive). brief sexual descriptions. reader is gn and implied to be shorter than yuuta. wc: 1031. notes: fingers crossed that this makes sense :’-) it’s a little all over the place.

A piece of you dies each time he recklessly throws himself in harm’s way.

Caring for others to the detriment of his own wellbeing is as natural to Yuuta as breathing. He won’t ever admit it (not in words, at least) but you know his heart better than your own. You have held it bloody and beating in your clammy palms, felt the muscle contract and expand, contract and expand; you have seen the truth buried within its chambers, vessels, and valves.

Yuuta believes his suffering is deserved—a cyclical debt he must repay for unwittingly chaining his childhood love to this realm.

Each little death is painful. Gasps of air clatter in your throat, unable to reach your screaming lungs. Violence rends your spirit and severs your very being, its splintered fragments crumbling to dust. You’re a vessel of who you once were, your boyfriend’s life your only concern, his medical updates the gospel.

It’s a basic trick of the mind—a twisted form of self-preservation—convincing yourself that your own injuries aren’t serious. Tattered nerves and a frayed psyche simply need stitching; what is ripped can always be mended.

Though every time you think you’ve grown accustomed to seeing him bear another senseless scar, you’re proven wrong.

═════════════════

Two hands can’t count all the conversations you’ve had like this, his body rigid and prone, your tears threatening to carve crimson rivulets down his wan face. There’s a cruel voice that whispers in your ear: from a distance, he looks like a corpse. A new wound weeps profusely on his abdomen, a weary smile tugging at his split lips.

“I’m going to be okay,” he soothes before you can say anything.

It’s unconvincing. Maybe it would be easier to trust him if you hadn’t been in this exact position over a dozen times before. Yuuta soaks up your expression, honing in on the furrow between your brows. If he had a little more strength, he’d smooth over the wrinkle with his thumb—there, all better.

“I’ll be good as new in a couple days.” He tries to keep his tone breezy, but you hear a coarse rattle when he exhales. “Then we can laugh about this, yeah?”

Sniffling, you rub your puffy eyes with the heel of your palm. Your mouth curves into a pout, your lips the delicate petals of a flower curling shut. “Don’t make promises that you can’t keep.”

“I could never break a promise to you.”

You find the pulse point on Yuuta’s wrist, taking comfort in the dull lub-dub, lub-dub, lub-dub.

═════════════════

He decides to tell you now.

You’re crammed together in the shower, wet skin slipping and sliding, soap suds swirling across the tile and down the drain. The water is hot, steam fogging up the vanity mirror. (You both like to write your initials in the condensation, drawing a heart around them like lovesick teens—a silly way to reclaim some of your lost youth.) Yuuta diligently washes your body, nimble digits working at the knots in your shoulders before lathering your back.

“Tomorrow morning, I have to leave for an assignment. I’ll be gone before you get up for work.” His voice is muted—a ghost of whisper—and you suck in a breath. His touch trails down your spine, lingering over each vertebra before he reaches your hips and grips the fat, thumbs stroking your softness. “I’m not sure how long I’ll be gone…”

It takes you a few beats to process the news; you release the breath you’ve been holding. You squeeze your eyes shut, tracing over the crack in your words before you speak. “I wish you wouldn’t.”

“I have to, my love.”

“I know you do.”

Deafening silence stretches between you like a void, filling the distance between your bodies.

“Say something,” Yuuta entreats.

He bows his head to smear a kiss against the nape of your neck. While the water is scalding, his lips are cold, and you tremble. Crystalline droplets blur your vision as you turn to your boyfriend, seeking solace in his embrace. A lithe arm wraps around your waist while the other cradles your head.

“You don’t get to leave my side at all tonight. Not once,” you mumble into his chest.

“I wouldn’t dream of it. I can’t risk disappointing you, can I?”

His irises are too deep, too blue—mournful as the twilight sky.

═════════════════

It always plays out the same, the evening before he leaves. You’ve made a ritual of it, a sacred, holy rite. There’s an unspoken understanding between the two of you that this could be it—which is why you must devour each other wholly.

Loving and being loved by Yuuta is usually honey-slow and tender. But when everything is at stake, you can’t get enough of one another. It’s reminiscent of your first time together: sloppy kisses that wet your chin, blooming marks that litter your bodies, stuttered confessions in the rare moment that you part for air. You finish around his fingers and tongue until you’re dizzy and pliant. And by the time he enters you, a flame engulfs his movements, everything brutal and incandescent with passion. It’s his declaration of love. Of possession. Of yearning.

“Don’t leave me,” you cry, clawing at his shoulders—your lifeline.

“I’ll be back,” he promises. “I’ll come back to you. Always.”

Eventually, you collapse in a heap of damp sheets and sticky flesh, your limbs inextricably tangled, your lover still buried inside you. Moonbeams slip through the edges of your curtains while you drift off as one.

═════════════════

The trill of the alarm startles you awake. The room is empty—save for your lone figure, nude and sore. You roll to Yuuta’s side of the bed and nestle beneath the covers; the herbal scent of shampoo clings to his pillow. If you close your eyes, you can pretend he’s beside you, gazing at your profile with disarming adoration.

I’ll be back.

You revisit that moment, play it frame-by-frame, memorize his insistent stare and the decisive set of his jaw. A stray tear pearls at the outer corner of your eye and rolls down your temple, wetting his pillowcase.

I’ll be back.

Hopelessly, you wish that Yuuta didn’t have a habit of making promises he can’t keep.

═════════════════

#yuuta x reader #yuta x reader #tw angst #cw angst #yuuta <3 #༄ kae writes

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zenkindoflove · 27 days ago

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I've been thinking about this question a lot, and I like your thoughtful answers to fandom, so I'm gonna shoot my shot so feel free to delete this.

Do you think there's space for unity and/or peace in the ACOTAR fandom (everyone goes their own ways and just does their own thing in their sub-communities)?

I have thoughts, but I'm curious about what you're going to say!

Oh boy. This is a doozy to answer. I’m going to put my thoughts under a cut because it’s mostly going to be me rambling about how I think fandom has changed in the last ten years and also some thoughts I have about the ACOTAR fandom specifically and what I’ve observed in the last year and a half I’ve been active here.

My tldr answer is: No. I do not think there is anyway we will ever just get along and find peace.

I’ve been reflecting for a while on why that is, and I have some overall theories. The first is something I think that is true about fandoms in general these days and is completely outside of our control.

I think social media has created more toxicity in fandom, and the biggest driving factor is that social media forces us to socialize with each other by valuing individualism. In the days before all these big social media sites, in order to engage with fandom (or the internet in general) you had to seek out communal spaces on your own based around a specific interest. You were always a guest/visitor in these spaces, and there were norms set in place for how to interact and engage with people. Now, the big websites that we all interact with each other on (tumblr included) requires us to create profile pages that we curate to represent who we are. We see our blogs as the “content” we create - both as a personal diary and a way to express our individuality and “authentic selves” that we share. Now, there is some value to that, but I think what it does is it makes us exist on these different platforms with a “me” first mindset. This is MY blog and I’ll say and express whatever I WANT.

But the reality is that there are communal spaces that exist on these platforms too. Such as the tagging system on tumblr. Tags are designed to be followed and ways to project your thoughts and share them with a community. And yet we still must do that from our home territory – our blogs. The posts co-exist in both spaces. And try as we might to enforce best practices and rules of how to use these spaces, people still are aggressively ego-centric in how they want to engage because they see their profile as their territory.

I don’t think that there is any way to request people to not act that way. Of course we want to curate and have freedom of expression in our own spaces. And we try to encourage ways for people to not see things they aren’t going to like (blocking, filtering tags, etc). But ultimately, to form community on these sites, we have to essentially follow people instead of only interacting with them in these communal spaces – which opens us up to basically witnessing every thought they have.

I think that is wherein lies the problem. We see things we don’t want to see, opinions or takes that irritate us, from people we otherwise enjoy. And this is fandom. We feel strongly about the subject matter no matter how you slice it. Otherwise we wouldn’t be here. I just don’t think we were meant to know all of this about each other. No matter what, you’re going to see something that pisses you off, and then cue the antics where people try to feel righteous or justify their irritation by stirring up shit. And on and on it goes.

I say this as someone who very much as participated in and perpetuated this cycle. I include myself in the offenders because after all – I am ultimately a stubborn, passionate human who wants to gossip and fight if I see something unjust. I am not immune, and I have observed this exact mindset in how I see my own behaviors.

Now – for the ACOTAR fandom specifically – I think we are basically this problem on steroids. I think partly it’s because of the nature of the fanbase. For so many people in this fandom – this is their FIRST fandom. While that is a beautiful thing, it also means a lot of people come into this space not understanding the norms of fandoms in general that have tried to address avoiding toxicity in the past. I also think that, frankly, a lot of people coming here from the bookish space are bringing in very weird ideas about censorship and shipping beliefs that essentially makes us have the same exact conversation over and over again – all because they still need to go through fandom university to unlearn a lot of the bullshit other places on the internet have ingrained in them.

I also think that the nature of this series – serial romances with a large cast of characters – it makes our fandom more fragmented then I have seen in other fandoms. We don’t just have one or two big shipper groups – we have multiples and they all have distinct flavors and personalities of how they interact with other groups and each other. This goes beyond just the toxicity of the ship war. A lot of toxicity exists within shipping groups or between shippers/stans for characters you would otherwise think wouldn’t have an issue with each other, and I think that is in large part because there are several competing interests and a lot of value placed on popularity. We see followers and post stats as currency (as is true for how social media works in general), and we use that in how we judge each other and whose voices matter.

I guess to not be totally doom and gloom, I do think there are ways to mitigate the toxicity. And that is finding a smaller group of like-minded people and forming a group chat or discord server with them. It won’t stop it completely. I think the most important element of this is finding people who you share the same interests - not just the same frustrations. You’ll still gossip and blow off steam and talk about what the new drama and bullshit that is going on in either your side or another side of the fandom. That's normal. But having time to really talk about the things you like and be positive is much more fruitful than only relating to each other because of what you all dislike. Search for people who are also looking to get the same out of fandom as you are, such as earnest connections rather than “reach” or “engagement”. Make friends because you share interests and how you think about the characters you love instead of who you think will make you more popular.

TBF, I have never been in a fandom that has known true peace, but I do think there is something unique with the ACOTAR fandom and how it really insists on playing all the top hits of worse fandom behavior on a loop. For me – I think taking a step back recently from how I’m participating in this fandom and the role I have within it has changed where I’m putting my energy. I do not see myself being here for a long time, but I do want to have a good time. I've been in enough fandoms to know my "Best by" date, and while I'm here, I'm trying my best to make the most of it.

#ask me anything #ama #ask games #fandom wank #i hope this was the thoughtfulness you were hoping for #its been on my mind a lot

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bambisafe · 2 days ago

Note

First time with our beloved Claire. Goodnight or day 🥰

trans!re2r!claire redfield / fem!virgin!reader

word count : 1.8k

warnings : sexual content / minors and men don’t interact or you’ll be blocked. claire and reader are best friends, slight manipulation, (claire is a tiny bit of a perv), slight alcoholism, vaginal fingering, cunnilingus, praise, claire has a potty mouth, girlcock, protected sex, missionary position, mating press, claire is emotionally stunted and wants you BAD, ambiguous/open ending.

author’s note : i had a million different ideas for this request and this is the one that won. i hope this is okay. i can make another version if you wish. i can also make a part 2 should this story continue. either way, thank you for leaving a request <3 (ps: the tiny pic of claire’s arm is from my re2 gameplay)

it started off as a conversation. casual. friend bonding over drinks.

have you ever had sex?

your told her no, and she didn’t judge. didn’t react strongly. she simply nodded, looking down into the bowl of her wine glass.

“i feel like i’m never going to, i haven’t found that right person, y’know?” you went on to explain an still, she nodded, humming along.

claire had been pining for you forever, had built a tower of dreams with you and her, and fuck if she didn’t wish to be the one to take your purity.

it’s selfish, she knows. your first time should be centered around you. but she’d be lying if she hadn’t fucked her fist to the thought of bending you in half.

“i want it to be with someone i trust. someone who i know wouldn’t hurt me.” you droned on, eyes sparkling.

a blinking neon sign above claire’s head. me! me!

she rests her chin in her palm, muttering mindlessly. “what if it was me?”

you look up, startled, eyes round. “w-what?”

maybe it’s the wine or her overwhelming desire but she’s feeling too confident to get flustered in the moment.

“i’m your best friend, you know i wouldn’t hurt you,” she shrugs. “we trust each other, right?”

you did. you knew each other’s secrets, even desires— the things you wished you could feel.

and she’d be the one to make you feel them.

“yeah,” you whisper, features brightening like a glimmering star. “we do.”

when she got you in her queen bed, she was prepared. scarily so.

“you’ve done this before?” you wonder, sinking into the sheets, adjusting your hips.

claire huffs a chuckle, scratching the back of her neck. she doesn’t tell you the bottle of lube and box of condoms in her bedside drawer was reserved for this exact occasion.

sure, she’d slept around before a few times but this level of prep was for you.

“yeah, a few times,” she mumbles vageuly, kneeling down on the mattress, strawberry flavored lube in her palm. “nothing crazy.”

you wriggle out of your shorts, bare and beautiful, as you lay back and spread your legs. and her eyes seek out your pussy like an animal tracking prey. her cock twitches.

“uh—“ she clears her throat. “yeah.”

tentatively, she squeezed a decent amount of the transparent liquid between your lips, your hips jumping at the contact.

“a little cold,” you chuckle.

claire’s lips quirk up, delighted at watching you squirm. “sorry.” but she isn’t.

squeezing another quarter-sized amount into her palm, she looks to you for confirmation, surprisingly tender. “you sure you wanna go through with this?”

and you nod, to her relief. she respects your boundaries and would’ve shut this down immediately if you weren’t feeling up to it but she couldn’t deny the rush of excitement that went straight to her dick.

“yes,” you reassure. “i want to.”

claire licks her bottom lip, heart thundering against her chest as she sinks her fingers between your folds.

her breath hitches, nearly moaning outright but somehow composes herself. well, for the most part.

her panties are soaked with pre. had been since the moment you agreed to this.

“h-how’s this?” she swallows, rough fingers rubbing slow circles on your slick clit, occasionally working downward, dipping into your hole but not quite pushing in any fingers.

gripping the sheets with iron fingers, you nod stiffly. “y-yeah.”

fuck, your voice. that pretty lilt, borderline whiny. she has to keep from grinding her rock-hard cock into the mattress.

not yet, she thinks. can’t scare ‘er off.

“yeah?” her breathing’s a little heavier, slow and deep, as she teases her middle finger along your entrance, thumb absentmindedly rubbing at your sensitive bundle.

“yes,” you full-on keen, hips jerking against her hand. claire took that as a sign you wanted more, wasting not a second as she slowly sinks a finger into your sopping heat.

your toes curl, head tipping back as she worked her single digit in and out. nice and slow. extremely gentle. but her technique had you losing grip on reality.

“a-ah, claire,” your hips start to move in time with her ministrations, thighs shaking.

“i know.” she croons, pressing her nose against your cheek. it was cold, a sharp pull back to earth.

“just you wait,” she grits, low, a dark promise. “just you wait until i get my cock in you.”

you whimper, clamping down in her finger.

“that’s right, baby,” she purrs, adding in another finger without warning.

you cry out, a mix of pleasure and pain pinching at the base of your tummy, inner walls squeezing her two fingers with overwhelming force.

if this is how you treat getting fingered, claire’s practically creaming herself already at what’s to come.

“feels so fucking good, doesn’t it?”

you only manage a small nod, bottom lip locked between your teeth, eyebrows taut, as you soak her fingers with every pump into your core.

“claire,” you gasp, legs squeezing shut around her arm. “i-i’m g-gonna—“

she nods slowly, forearms flexing hard as she pistons you on her fingers.

“that’s right,” she encourages, thumb swirling around your clit. “cum for me. that’s it, gooood girl.”

she watches you come undone, shaking like a feather in the wind, your tight little hole squeezing the life out of her fingers as a string on the most beautiful whimpers she’s ever heard fell from your lips.

“i’m not done yet,” she whispers, leaning in to capture your lips in a kiss, the action completely natural. “gonna stretch you out on my dick.”

she slides her fingers out of you, a rush of fluids draining from your rosy pussy.

without a second thought, claire leaned down, opened your thigh wider before delving in, letting her tongue drag along your used hole restlessly, an occasional pop emanating from between your legs as she sucked your juices off.

all you could do was lay there, twitching and oversensitive, the occasional whine leaving you when her wet muscle hit a particularly sensitive spot.

when she was satisfied, she pulled back, licked her lips like an animal who’d just finished a carnivorous feast and looked down at your tired face, rubbing your knee.

“sure you can take another round?” she presses gently. “don’t over-exert yourself.”

to her utter surprise, you nod. goddamn, you were a trooper. and a sexy one at that.

claire smirks a bit, patting your head. “that’s my girl.”

she prepped herself to the max before even thinking of entering you; condom, lube (both for you and herself), and slow pacing.

she boxed you in, hovering over you in missionary position as pressed a few gentle kisses to your neck, feather-light and airy.

“ready?” she asks for the nth time, blue eyes meeting yours. when you give her that weary smile, whispering your yes, she takes that as her cue.

wrapping her fingers around the base of her cock, she nudges the leaky tip against your clit, sucking in a sharp breath as her pre mixes with your arousal.

“fuck, you’re so wet,” she pants, rubbing her glistening tip along your slit, the inherently wet sound you’re creating making her head spin.

“i’m gonna go in, ‘kay?” she doesn’t wait for a response this time, growing increasingly desperate.

her girth is anticipated but not expected. it stretches, burns, and sits heavy in your channel. your hands found purchase on her shoulders, nails digging into her pale skin.

“uh—“ you whine. “claire—“

“shh, shh,” she reels you in gently. “s’okay. you can take it.”

and take it, you do. every inch that demands the tight space of your wet hole.

she sinks in the final few inches, pelvis pressed against your clit, balls against your ass.

“wow,” you manage to croak out. “you’re so…”

what was the right word without sounding corny?

claire interrupts, the word at the tip of your tongue already swimming through her mind.

big.

“i know,” her head tilts, nodding. “is it too much?”

when you shake your head, pride surges through her, bright and loud.

“good,” she mutters. “gonna start moving now.”

it’s slow at first, hips cocked as she gently rocks back and forth. she’s straining every muscle, hard, ignoring every instinct to rail you into the mattress.

“t-that feels good,” and judging by your fluttery eyelashes and shaky voice, it did feel good. all because of her.

she didn’t want to rush this, or hurt you, plus you were feeling good, so she kept her pacing steady, just a gentle thrust, not even enough to rock the bed yet.

connecting your lips, claire prods at your lips, commanding entry and when you invite her in, lips parting like the sea, she collides her tongue with yours, dancing in a fiery tango.

she doesn’t mention it, doesn’t react, but she could feel you squeeze around her length the moment your tongues touched.

with a subtle uptick in speed, claire ruts her hips a little faster, just enough to make your tits bounce. she can’t see it but she can feel it.

you moan against her lips, deliciously so, voice shaky and weak.

parting from you, she sits back on her haunches, hauling your calves up her shoulders before she’s thrusting into you with peak speed.

you’re a whimpering mess now, head turned to the side, revealing that pretty neck, gripping the pillow like a lifeline as she plows you into the bed.

“you look so fucking good,” she practically growls, not feeling quite satisfied enough so she grips your thighs, pushing them back until your knees are nearly at your ears.

now you’re all spread out, leaving little to the imagination. she almost spills her load right then.

“ah, shit,” she grunts, railing into you so fast that bed creaked with a repetitive croak.

“uhn,” your glassy eyes find hers, blissed out. “‘m gonna cum again.”

“yeah?” claire’s breathless, panting, in fucking heat as she fucks you hard and fast.

“cum on me,” she growls it, almost feral, heart slamming against her hips. “soak my fucking cock.”

she talks you through it, her voice never not filling your ears as you hit your second orgasm of the night, body trembling, eyes rolling, back arched, as she watched a beautiful crescendo wash over you.

claire isn’t far behind, emptying an embarrassing amount of that milky substance into the thin rubber, crying out your name before collapsing on top of you.

“man,” she whispers, mouth close to your ear. “that was amazing.”

“earth-shattering.” you chuckle, flushed and spent.

“no kidding,” claire sighs, rolling onto her side, pulling you in, still stuffed inside you as she gradually went soft.

she wasn’t going to think about the fact that your friendship would never be the same, or that there was a possibility things wouldn’t continue from here, as much as she wanted them to. claire was just happy to be with you, to give you something you wanted. to take what she wanted.

#mars' writing ⋆.˚#claire redfield x fem reader #claire redfield x reader #re2 claire #claire redfield smut #claire redfield #claire resident evil #wlw x you #wlw x reader #wlw fanfic #wlw smut #resident evil smut #resident evil fanfiction #resident evil #resident evil x reader #resident evil x you #resident evil x female reader #mars' anons 𖤐 #mars replies ⟢

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stage-au-ask · 4 months ago

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had a better idea lmao INTRO POST!!!

I decided to make an askblog for my stage au!! Similar to the one I made only for Sonia, this one is just an askblog where you can send asks or interact with just about every character.

Please look this over before sending an ask

The characters are children. Don’t send NSFW asks and I’ll block anything that personally makes me uncomfortable.

This blog takes place years before the actual competition.

You don’t need to be familiar with the AU to send an ask, but the tag is linked above for anyone who’s curious.

The characters don’t know everything. If you want clarification on something in the story, specify that your ask is directed at the mod rather than a character please.

Every SDR2 character is present here and can be asked a question with the exception of Kaz 😔 because he arrives at the school after the timeframe this blog takes place in

This AU is SDR2-centric

Other RP blogs are free to interact! I don’t really plan to follow the exact plot of my au here lol

I want to answer more asks with drawings of the characters involved. I’ll maintag my art because I want people to see it.

That being said I have school and get overwhelmed easily so replies may be slow. Be respectful.

here's what each character looks like for reference

#ooc #danganronpa #danganronpa au #danganronpa ask blog #rp blog #danganronpa rp #sdr2 #danganronpa rp blog #danganronpa roleplay #alnst #alnst au #alien stage askblog #a drawing #original text #on computer

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anti-katsuki-lounge · 1 year ago

Note

Saw someone saying that most people in the "bnha critical" hashtag mostly just "suck deku's dick" instead of actually criticizing the story. The same person also had another post basically saying that the reason why midoriya gets treated so poorly by the narrative is because every other character's traits were "erased(?) to make up for midoriya's bland character*" * I don't remember their exact words, but they said something similar to that

Those two posts gave me such a headache that I blocked them immediately

I really hate it when people say this.

I’m going to be honest, as someone who likes Izuku, there’s things you can definitely criticize about Izuku’s character. I think that he’s far too naive in certain situations and doesn’t get called out for it much. Him trying to see good in Overhaul is one of those instances. I think he suffers immensely from selective intelligence. He’s supposed to be great at thinking on his feet yet it takes him very long to realize that he could be throwing more kicks. I also think that as the story progresses, he becomes far less creative with his quirks. You get some rare moments like him using Black Whip from his mouth after being inspired by Tsuyu, but we rarely get these moments of his intelligence anymore. He’s also not allowed to really reflect on his past, so he’s extremely stagnant in regards to his views about things such as his quirkless past and the bullying he’s suffered from Katsuki.

However, Izuku isn’t a bland character. The problem is he has a bad writer. We could’ve seen more of his and Ochako’s relationship. Unlike many other relationships, the two are built around the idea that they constantly have each other’s backs. I wanna see more of this. I wanna see more of them bonding. Maybe Ochako asks Izuku for some hand to hand combat training. Maybe Izuku learns more about Ochako’s life/ her hobbies and tries to plan things for them to do that they both enjoy. Maybe they can have a heart to heart about constantly being underestimated and being a part of a group that is looked down upon (Ochako being poor and Izuku being quirkless). With Tenya, maybe the two can study together. Tenya’s great at retaining information but Izuku’s better at being creative, so they can help each other there. They could talk about their feelings of anger and how they feel they have a large legacy to uphold. With Shoto, we can have Izuku and him explore what a normal healthy friendship is like. We can have them confide in each other about the abuse they’ve been through and about their relationships with their moms. These are things that could easily be explored with a character like Izuku and Hori has set up the building blocks of Izuku’s character that allows for these things to be explored. The problem is that Hori doesn’t do any of this. We’re expected to believe that the DekuSquad are close knit with each other, but we don’t see them interacting in anything that isn’t related to heroics. We don’t see much of Izuku’s creativity anymore. He has numerous quirks, but even if some overlap with the others, there are cool combos a hero nerd like him could come up with, but instead Hori would rather have him do the exact same things over and over again. The way Hori writes Katsuki also hurts Izuku’s character. Outside of the first chapter, Izuku’s never allowed to show anything other than fear and admiration for Katsuki. He’s never allowed to be unique or else he’ll utterly surpass Katsuki in something (Katsuki’s latest B.S power up is an example of this). He’s not allowed to reflect on Katsuki’s bullying and the effect it has on him nor is he able to hang out with anyone without Katsuki being nearby or involved.

Long rant, I know, but the point is that while there’s certainly things you can criticize about Izuku’s character, most of the issues with Izuku doesn’t come from being a bad character but from being written by a bad writer who prioritizes other things over developing his MC

#anti katsuki bakugou #anti bakugo katsuki #anti bakugo #anti bakugou #mha critical #anti bakugou katsuki #bnha critical

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five-rivers · 2 years ago

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Figment (More than Imagination)

AO3

(Be warned that this is an unfinished snippet.)

“You’re really him. The one from the festival.”

Izuku had been hearing similar statements all morning, since before he’d even gotten on the train, but it still made him blush! Was this what pro heroes had to deal with all the time? Wow! Izuku couldn’t imagine… Well, he could, but… The point was, he didn’t see any harm in turning and talking to the latest person to recognize him.

‘The one from the festival’ was a lot nicer than ‘bone breaking kid,’ after all!

(And both were better than ‘useless deku.’)

Now, it was a little different being approached on the street, in the rain, only a few blocks from UA, rather than just being acknowledged by fellow commuters, most of whom he saw every day, and coming out of an alleyway to do it was strange, but the guy didn’t look like a villain. Not that there was any particular villain look! That was to say, the person coming from the alley didn’t look threatening. He was thin, frail, even, and almost baseline human in appearance, with wavy brown hair, a nice shirt and a blazer, and a plain black umbrella. The only things that stood out about him were that he had two pupils and vividly cyan irises in each eye, and that his fingernails were painted that exact same color. Unless it wasn’t paint, and actually part of his quirk? Maybe a five-point or other specialized-contact quirk with a visual component? Not that Izuku should assume!

Oh! And he should really respond instead of just standing there, staring.

“Y-yep! That’s me! Th-the bone- bone breaking kid.” He smiled at the man, as brightly as he could.

“You look the same. I was worried you would be… different.”

“Ah, well, don’t worry! I didn’t get hurt that badly!” He was still alive, right? Even if Recovery Girl had said she wouldn’t heal him anymore… “I’m- I’m totally okay! But– Thank you for your support, mister!”

He bobbed a quick bow, then paused, unsure how to end this interaction. A stranger being concerned about him was… not quite a first, but… it usually ended pretty fast.

“I just… really want to shake your hand. Please.” The man held his right hand out, past the cover of his umbrella. “It would make me so happy…”

Izuku was immediately on guard. Maybe shaking hands upon first meeting someone new had been common in the past, but since the advent of quirks, it had become something reserved for the end of a meeting, one where people got to know each other fairly well, if that. Handshake events with celebrities required in-depth background checks and squeaky-clean records, and even then the celebrities usually wore gloves. Too many quirks were touch-based, too many quirks were destructive, or even just inconvenient, for the average person to feel okay with that kind of contact with strangers.

“I- I don’t know,” said Izuku, taking a step back. He didn’t want to be rude, and probably people asked heroes that all the time, but this was starting to get, uhm, uncomfortable. “I- I mean! I’ve still got all these bandages, so, it’s not very, um, good for me to be doing things with my hands!” He glanced at his own umbrella and cringed a little. “You know how it is. Injuries!”

The stranger’s expression - which Izuku was kind of having a hard time interpreting - didn’t change. He also didn’t put his hand down.

Against his better judgment, Izuku leaned forward. “Are you– Are you okay? Mister?”

The man crumpled suddenly. Izuku dropped his umbrella and rushed to his side, pulling out his phone. “I’m calling an ambulan–!”

The man’s hand shot out, grabbing Izuku’s wrist. His nails, sharper than they looked, dug into Izuku’s bandaged arm, deep enough to draw blood, and–

Several blocks away, well within the confines of UA, Yagi Toshinori’s eyes rolled up, into the back of his head, and he fell out of his seat, thoroughly derailing the staff meeting he’d been participating in.

“Pardon?” said Nezu. Answering the phone when perched on Aizawa’s shoulders was, perhaps, not entirely polite, but it was that or be underfoot while all of his very tall employees paced restlessly outside the nurse’s office. “One of our students was involved in what?”

This, of course, got the attention of absolutely everyone in the hallway. Excellent!

Not the student being involved in the incident, of course, but redirecting the staff’s attention to a problem that they could actually affect.

“Yes, yes, I will be there shortly,” he said. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention so promptly, Officer Tamakawa!” He hung up. “It appears as if one of our students was attacked by a villain on their commute and had an interesting reaction to the villain's quirk. Aizawa, Inui, I’ll need you to head to the hospital to confirm the student’s identity and to provide support.”

“Support?” asked Aizawa, both his eyebrows going up.

“The quirk in question has a psychological dimension, and there’s a worry that the student might lash out and injure themselves or others when they wake up.”

“Ugh,” said Aizawa. “Inui, you’ll have to drive. My eyes still aren’t back to normal.”

“Very good!” said Nezu, jumping down. “I will have the police send the relevant information directly to your phone!”

“Takashima Takuto,” said Tsukauchi, sliding into the chair across the table. "I have to say, I'm disappointed to see you again."

Takashima flexed his hands inside the special gloves the police force used to block his class of touch-based quirks and muttered unintelligibly.

"Do you remember the terms of your release?" asked Tsukauchi.

Takashima suddenly leaned forward, chest pressed flat against the heavy table between them. "You don't understand! I had to!"

"We'll get to that in a moment. Do you remember the terms of your release?"

"I-" Takashima leaned back. "I wasn't to use the active part of my quirk anymore."

"That's not entirely accurate. You're missing a few parts."

Takashima swallowed and began to bounce his leg up and down. "I was- I had to join the Fujitani Hospital psychiatric outpatient program, and I couldn't miss any appointments or medications."

"And?"

"And I had a- a work release where I could use my quirk… the active part of my quirk… if I had the… informed consent of the person, and approval of the hospital psychiatric board."

"Did you have either of those things when you used your quirk earlier today?"

"... No."

"So," said Tsukauchi, lacing his fingers together. "Explain to me what happened."

“I was– It was– It was self defense!”

Tsukauchi raised an eyebrow. “You’re claiming you were attacked?”

“Yes. Yes.”

“By a hero student?”

“... Yes.”

“Who you’ve never met before today?”

“It was– It was out of nowhere.”

“Alright. Where are your injuries, Mr. Takashima?”

“... What?”

“The boy you’re accusing of attacking you made it to the final eight in the UA Sports Festival. The arena had to be rebuilt after he and his last opponent were done with it. I find it difficult to believe that you were able to get away from him unscathed if he did attack you. Would you like to try again?”

“I- I- But if I- I had to, don’t you see? I’ve never seen anyone like him before!”

Tsukauchi sighed. “Can you explain that statement?”

“I saw him… Midoriya… I saw. With my quirk. On the TV. The sports festival. I saw him and I… didn’t believe it, at first. I’d never seen anything quite like that… The figments, they were hardly figments… The were… even more than Miss Inoue… almost real even without me… I had to.”

“Mr. Takashima, you recall that Miss Inoue almost died because of your reckless quirk use?”

“I was following the rules,” said Takashima. “I told her what my quirk did. I was a good psychiatrist. This will help him, too, Midoriya.”

“We have no idea what the long term effects on Mr. Midoriya will be,” said Tsukauchi. “As it stands, it sounds like you stalked him, ambushed him, and used your quirk on him without his consent.”

“I don’t… I had to. I had to make them real, once I saw them.”

“As it stands, it is recognized that you’re suffering from Compulsive Quirk Use Disorder, so, per your prior agreement with the prosecutor’s office, you’ll be remanded into a residential psychiatric program later today. Your lawyer’s been contacted, and should be able to give you more details.” Tsukauchi stood up.

“But,” said Takashima, weakly, “I had to.”

“No,” said Tsukauchi, “you didn’t.”

“A bit harsher than usual,” observed Akabane.

Tsukauchi scowled. “He’s almost killed half a dozen people with his quirk, and he always says the same thing, and his mother’s family always gets him out of facing real consequences. I’m tired of seeing him. Mental illness is not an excuse for mutilating people. This could have been prevented if the prosectors pushed for real intervention instead of that joke of a work release. There are medications he could be taking!” Tsukauchi angrily yanked a handful of paperwork out of the file folder on his desk and started filling it in.

“Still,” said Akabane.

“Midoriya is…” He let out a sharp sigh. “A friend of mine’s been mentoring the kid. I don’t really know him, but I know about him, and I don’t think my friend is going to take it well.”

“Ah,” said Akabane.

“It’s just– Do you know what happened to Miss Inoue? She was a patient of his, when he still had his license to practice. She had delusions of having worms crawling under her skin, eating her alive. She was lucky she didn’t have a detailed picture of what those worms looked like. They fell apart pretty fast. Mrs. Yamaguchi was another one of his victims; he convinced her to go off her antipsychotics so she could confront her hallucinations of her abusive husband. That stuck around a bit longer. Those are the worst two, but they’re not the reason he got put on probation. He started using his quirk on other people’s patients, and they reported him.”

“Nasty. But it sounds like he has a problem, too.”

“Yeah,” said Tsukauchi. “I just wish he’d gotten help for it faster.”

"Usually," said Dr. Aoki, as he led Aizawa and Hound Dog through the hospital, "the figments Mr. Takashima creates aren't so… lasting. Or detailed. Most of them lack significant internal organs or have other flaws that cause them to fall apart within a relatively brief period of time. Their creation also usually doesn't take such a toll on the host. I suspect the two things are related, but, well. You can see why we're so concerned."

"What kinds of figments are we talking about here?" asked Hound Dog.

"It's hard to say, precisely. Doctor - excuse me - Mr. Takashima worked with a broad spectrum of patients with an equally broad spectrum of disorders. If I had to guess, I would imagine some form of schizophrenia - that disorder can cause a wide range of detailed hallucinations - or Dissociative Identity Disorder - although that diagnosis has been controversial for years. Since the pre-quirk era at least." Aoki's hands fluttered. "We're far more concerned about physical ramifications, anyway, which is why we called you here. We have no idea how these figments might react to Mr. Midoriya or each other. We have them in separate rooms for now."

Aizawa sighed. "What are the figments of? What do they look like?"

"That," said Officer Tamakawa, who was escorting them, "is a whole extra problem." He stopped and opened a door, briefly. Aizawa and Hound Dog looked in. What was lying in the bed was unmistakable.

Tamakawa shut the door quickly.

"You see?" he asked.

“Was that a teenage All Might?” asked Hound Dog faintly.

#bnha #fic #my fic

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