#i know i got off topic some in some of these answers but whatever

[savage-rhi]

Magenta 😥

[monstermp3]

.

[unclewaynemunson]

If there is one thing Eddie Munson is good at, it's hyperfixating. He can spend hours upon hours wholly entranced by whatever it is that has his attention, whether it's a newly discovered band or a book series he's reading or some random new interest he likes to immerse himself in. It's something Steve, who himself has the attention span of a goldfish, will never really understand, but that's okay: even without understanding it, it's one of the things he loves about Eddie.

Some of Eddie's obsessions fade just as quickly as they appear, but others stay with him for years. So when he reaches a 1000-day streak on Duolingo learning Elvish, Steve has a surprise for him: two tickets for a Lord of the Rings convention in Chicago. The second ticket is not for Steve – they enjoy their own separate interests just fine without the other's involvement – but for Dustin, and the two of them wave goodbye to Steve with a suitcase filled with nerdy costumes and matching excited sparks in their eyes.

Eddie returns a few days later filled with stories about all that he and Dustin got up to.

'Guess who we met at the convention,' is one of the first things he tells Steve. He's bouncing around with excitement, too impatient to even wait for Steve's first guess. 'The guy who created the Elvish Duolingo course! And guess what? He lives in Indianapolis! I'm having lunch with him next week!'

And it's cool, Steve is happy that Eddie met his hero and made a new nerd friend out of him, he truly is – until Eddie shows him the picture that Dustin took of the two of them.

Here's the thing: Steve is not a jealous person. Not at all. He knows that jealousy is a gross thing to feel and he can't even imagine not trusting Eddie. But... he had not expected Eddie's lame nerd idol to have amazing hair, a lip piercing, and muscles in all the right places. The guy looks like a freaking model. And usually, that wouldn't bother Steve – he knows he's not exactly ugly himself – but usually he doesn't have to compete with guys who speak Elvish fluently.

'You should come with me, we can all hang out together,' Eddie suggests. 'I'm sure you'll love him.'

Steve is hesitant about it, but Eddie refuses to take no for an answer, and that's how Steve ends up at Vikram's house for lunch two weeks later.

Eddie gasps loudly when Vikram leads them into his living room, clutching a dramatic hand to his chest in true Eddie fashion. Steve knows it's not all theatrics, though: there's no way a room like this wouldn't genuinely impress Eddie. It's dark and filled with big leather furniture. Framed posters for various metal bands and horror movies hang on the walls. There are shelves filled with big fantasy books, and every corner of the room has a display cabinet filled with what seem to be collectors' items for various series.

If Steve had been hoping for Vikram to look more like a stereotypical nerd in real life, he would be severely disappointed: the guy looks amazing in a leather jacket that would fit perfectly in Eddie's own collection and black skinny jeans that show off a truly amazing pair of legs, making Steve feel oddly self-conscious about the couple of pounds he gained since he left his high school sports days behind him.

While they're having lunch – Vikram bakes his own bread and it's so good that Steve doesn't think he can ever stop eating – Eddie and Vikram enthusiastically talk each other's heads off about all things Tolkien. Steve, on the other hand, grows more quiet as time passes, not really following along and sure as hell not able to give any contributions to the topic at hand.

'Did you ever try to learn some Sindarin as well, Steve? Or are you more of a Quenya guy?' Vikram asks him in what is no doubt a well-meant attempt to include Steve in the conversation.

Steve hastily swallows a big mouthful of bread and feels his cheeks heat up.

'I never read those books,' he sheepishly confesses.

'Oh!' Vikram's eyes widen and Steve can practically see him think: You never bothered to show any interest in one of your boyfriend's favorite things?

'Well, I mean, I tried,' Steve rushes to explain himself. 'But I um, I couldn't really keep my attention to it. They're a bit difficult to read. For me.' Somehow, explaining it only makes him feel worse about it.

'Oh, yeah, I get it, man. Those books aren't for everyone.'

There is no meanness or hidden insult behind his words. But Steve only feels more like an outsider while Eddie asks Vikram some incomprehensible question that has Vikram giving an in-depth explanation about the difference between two words that literally sound the same to Steve's ears. And when Eddie laughs about a joke that goes way over Steve's head, then says something in that stupidly beautiful nerd language which prompts a laugh from Vikram in return, Steve is reminded in full force how ugly of an emotion jealousy is.

They say goodbye – Eddie says something in Elvish again and Steve has to watch Vikram laugh a joyous laugh about it again – and Steve is quiet during the drive back home.

'Is something wrong?' Eddie asks when they're home, perceptive as always.

'No,' Steve lies.

'Stevie, c'mon.' Eddie studies Steve's face intently, a frown between his eyebrows just barely hidden by his bangs. 'What's going on?' Something in his expression shifts. 'Wait. You didn't like Vikram, did you? Did you hate him?'

'No, I didn't hate him!' Steve is quick to say. 'He's awesome, Eddie, he's perfect and smart and funny and perfect.'

Eddie narrows his eyes like Steve said something weird.

'Why did you say he's perfect twice?'

Steve huffs and runs a hand through his hair in a nervous gesture. 'Just drop it, Eddie.'

'No, I'm not dropping it.' Eddie crosses his arms. 'What are you not telling me?'

Steve sighs. 'Okay, I didn't want to bother you with this, because it's my problem and not yours, and jealousy is an ugly emotion, but–'

'You're jealous of Vikram?'

'I mean, he's like, super hot, and he has this cool house, and he loves the same things as you, and you can speak your cool nerd language with him, while I'm too dumb to even read your cool nerd books and–'

'Steve,' Eddie interrupts him. 'You have no reason to be jealous.'

'I just...' Steve pauses, pinches the bridge of his nose. He finally manages to voice the thought that has been eating at him ever since he met Vikram. 'I don't want you to wake up someday and wish that you were with someone as smart as you are.'

The way Eddie's breath catches is barely noticeable. Then, he reaches out and gently places his hands on Steve's shoulders.

'I am with someone as smart as I am,' he says softly.

Steve scoffs.

'No, it's true,' Eddie presses on. 'Okay, so you don't enjoy reading Tolkien, and you don't speak Elvish. I don't care about that, man. I love the way you think. I love your inexhaustible knowledge of weird sports facts. I love how precise you are about weighing ingredients when you're baking something. I love your through-the-roof emotional and social intelligence.' He lifts one hand off of Steve's shoulder to pet his head, almost as if he's some kind of animal. 'You got a pretty big brain in there, no matter what you tell yourself, Stevie. And that's why I love you, more than anyone who speaks Elvish fluently.'

Steve tugs Eddie closer until their bodies are pressed against each other, his arms around Eddie's waist and his head resting on Eddie's shoulder.

'I don't think anyone has ever called me smart before,' he quietly admits.

'Well, I'll do it more often, then,' Eddie replies. 'Cause you are.'

(I wrote this because @undreaming-rambles has reached the unbelievable milestone of a 1000-day duolingo strike today. obviously that called for a silly fanfic celebration moment, congrats on your incredible perseverance aneta 💖 and credit where credit is due: this one was inspired by an episode of my beloved comfort show brooklyn 99)

[dipperscavern]

can I be cheeky and ask for riding jon’s face 🫣🫣🫣

yes… oh yes you absolutely can….. i fell asleep last night to the thought of jon snow canonically being a munch (funny enough) — we’re on the same wavelength anon ! (written w shy!reader in mind)

you’ve heard the talk, heard the different ladies from different statures talk about “the act”, and it’s always a different answer. some say it’s mediocre… others, that it’s their favorite way to feel good, and some, say it’s terrible. you’ve heard stories of men never caring about the woman’s pleasure, and how their only purpose was to give them children. the thought made you shudder.

you, yourself, have never had time. time to freely choose who you trust enough to share that sacred experience with (or even touch yourself). the men at castle black are sworn to celibacy, and even if they would abandon their oath for a night with you, you wouldn’t let them. most of the men at the wall are untrustworthy, and you want more than just a quick fuck. even if these thoughts plague you, you’re too busy with your duties to worry about it. a thing you’ve since long accepted.

until jon snow.

you had been there for jon since his arrival at castle black. never batting an eye at his surname, always trying to make his life a little bit easier. there was also the stolen glances, the soft touches you both passed off as “accidental”, the longing for each other. you both remained as merely “close friends”, until things boiled over and you found solace in each others lips. it didn’t go farther than that, the tentative kiss being soft & exploring, and that was okay with you. you didn’t expect more. until you got more.

sometimes, you hate jon for being so easy to talk to. your shy nature has slowly melted away in his presence, and you find yourself unable to be embarrassed about the questions you ask or answer. your late night talks are what keeps jon sane. he wants to know everything about you, and you both would talk till morning if you could (you have before). the topic often shifts, landing on anything and everything on the planet. even “the act”.

imagine jon’s surprise, when the most beautiful & endearing woman he’s ever met drops her gaze to the floor and bashfully tells him she’s never cum before.

jon short circuits. he asks if you want to. he asks if he can make you. and you say yes.

jon snow is a giver. tasting a woman is a pleasure in itself, and he’d tell you as much if you asked. his mind ran a million miles an hour, thinking about all the ways he could make you feel good. it doesn’t take long before the desire to taste you takes a hold of him, and so he does.

“You’re hovering.”

he’s not wrong. you are. you thought you had heard it all, but the act of sitting on someone’s face has clearly alluded your ears. you’re unsure. you don’t want to hurt him.. suffocating the first man you lay with would have you begging the gods to open the ground and swallow you whole. and it’s not just any man, it’s jon.

the soft glide of jon’s fingers across your thigh bring you out of your head. his hands are cold. they feel nice in contrast to your own skin, nerves lit on fire.

“I don’t want to hurt you…”

“You won’t.”

“Jon-”

“Do you trust me?”

he’s steadfast in his reassurance. his thumb has been rubbing circles in your hip while you both have been talking. does he do it all on purpose, or is he just this naturally desirable?

“You know I do, but-“

“Good. Sit.”

you still hesitate, and that’s when jon takes matters into his own hands. his hands stop their tracing, and instead grip your thighs, bringing you down himself.

whatever expectations you had are exceeded tenfold. jon eats you out like a man starved. your head spins with the way you can feel his tongue, exploring you and swiping over your clit. it has white hot pleasure shooting up your spine, and your thighs quiver ever so slightly, but jon’s firm grip keeps you in place. he’s confident in his movements, precise and sure in a way that makes you see stars.

jon thinks he’s found the place where he would be content to meet his demise. you taste so good, and the pretty sounds you’re making have blood rushing straight to his cock. jon has always loved the sound of his name on your lips — whether it be small acknowledgments in passing by, or just mentions in mere conversation. but he’s found he much prefers hearing you moan it.

you’re almost embarrassed how quickly he has warmth building up in your belly, pressure building as he gives you the most pleasure you’ve ever had. he’s giving and giving and giving, and you find yourself selfishly taking all of it. he doesn’t slow down, keeping a steady rhythm that makes the cord in your stomach wind impossibly tighter.

“Jon, I’m-!”

you don’t get to finish your sentence, interrupted by the snap of the cord in your stomach that was previously tightening. pleasure overtakes your nerves, flooding your veins and momentarily removing your ability to speak (or think). jon’s tongue doesn’t stop fully, only slowing down to help you ride out your peak.

you catch your breath, feeling jon kiss the inside of your thighs as small aftershocks have you clenching around nothing. you find yourself seeking his touch (as if he hasn’t been constantly on you), your hand running along the surface of your thigh to find his own. he reaches for you, trapping your own smaller hand beneath his own. it’s reassuring, grounding you back to the present after he brought you so far over the edge.

you move to get off, to let him get up & breathe — but he doesn’t release his grip, keeping you in place. you hear him speak.

“Only once?”

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Wicked Games 1

No tag lists. Do not send asks or DMs about updates. Review my pinned post for guidelines, masterlist, etc.

Warnings: non/dubcon, cheating, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

Character: Steve Rogers

Summary: you had a one night stand. Or did you?

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging ❤️

Your phone wakes you. The room tilts as you open your eyes. A dull hammering thrums in your temples. The morning light makes your brain rough as sand paper. 

Dregs of vodka stick to your dry tongue. The hangover weighs you down like an anchor. Just the thought of moving hurts. 

You reach blindly for your jittering phone. Bubbly music tinkles from the speaker. Shit. It's Barrett. What did he forget this time? 

You answer and put your clammy palm to your forehead. You squint at the ceiling then your eyes slowly round. Where the fuck are you?  

"Hey, babe. You at Wendy's?" Your husband asks. 

You gulp and peel your tongue off the roof of your mouth. This isn't Wendy's house. 

"Yep," you croak. Your eyes ping side to side. 

"Look, I'm sorry about last night. Things got heated and I know I was an ass--" 

You cough as you sit up in the strange bed. "Yeah, you were." 

"So why don't you come home and we can talk it out." 

You peer around the room and your lips curve in a frown. Where the hell would you go besides home your loyal best friend's? You scratch you scalp and turn your legs over the edge of the bed, "let me get myself together." 

"Babe. Please. I'm sorry." 

"When I get home." You hang up.  

It was a hell of fight. The minute he started yelling, you bailed. He knows better. You're not doing a ten hour day and coming home his nagging. So you left out your coffee mug. Big deal. You didn't say anything about the garbage bag he left out to be torn apart by raccoons. 

Whatever. Fighting over dishes. Not of it matters right now. 

Your clothes are on the floor. Someone's floor. Who it is is far from the point. You stand and stagger. You catch yourself on the nightstand. Your hand moves instinctively between your legs. 

You're naked and tender. Did you have sex? 

Think! You ran out with your purse. You went to Wendy's. She was up for a night out. A night to forget and body did you. First drink, second, third, then it gets blurry.  

Fuck! You didn't. You wouldn't. You're pissed at your husband but you wouldn't cheat on him. You're not that type of person. Right? 

You don't have time for that. You have to get out of here.  

You dress as you search the room. It's tidy. Half the bed is mad and the other half messed from your drunken slumber. 

You shake out your hands trying to shoo away the flurry of guilt and denial. Just get out. You'll think better with some coffee in your system.  

You push down the door handle slowly. You listen to the silence of the hall. You tiptoe out warily, checking left and right as you advance. It's a nice place. A condo. Much nicer than your cramped one bedroom. 

Not important! 

You come out into the spacious front room. It's as empry as the rest of the place. The kitchen too. The bathroom. No one. 

Your purse is by the door. Your shoes too. You grab both and let yourself out. You'd rather not face your mistake. 

No, you didn't do anything. You wouldn't. 

You hurry down the hallway to the elevators. You don't look back, just keep going. You don't think, just go. 

It isn't until you're outside the familiar cafe marquee that your let your mind settle. You enter and join the queue. Your order a black coffee and drink it at a stool by the window.  

You lean your elbows on the high table that stands inside the pane. You take a slow, savouring swig of coffee and let it trickle down your throat. You shield your face from the New York morning and put your hands over your ears. 

You can't remember anything but Wendy. Your anger had you ordering round after round, trying to drown out the bile. The thought makes your stomach lurch and you gulp thickly. 

You shake your head and groan. Your phone chirps. It's probably Barrett. Several messages from him and missed calls. All through the night. It's bad enough you betrayed him, you had him up worrying. 

No, you didn't! 

It can't have happened if you don't remember it. A generous stranger took you home so you didn't wake up on the curb. That's it. 

That's the story. Nothing happened. And you'll let Barret believe you were with Wendy. It won't make a difference. 

Your mind is set. Nothing happened. 

Nothing. Happened. 

Because you don't remember. Because you were too drunk to do that. Because you're married and it can't happen. 

You're going to finish your coffee and go home. Everything will be just like it was before... after you tell Barrett where to put that coffee mug if it's such a big deal. 

[pressureplus]

Various Dating Sebastian Solace Headcannons

Warnings: Mild Suggestive Content, Intersex Sebastian

◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟◞꒷◟ ͜ ͜ ◞ྀི◟୨୧◞ྀི◟ ͜ ͜ ◞꒷◟

He loves to kiss you more than anything, loves to be loved honestly

Please touch him, he hasn’t been touched in so long

He’s got a fascination with scars, any old scars that you let him see he will absolutely trace with his fingers

Mildly obsessive, 100% possessive, he doesn’t really like the idea of sharing you or letting other people flirt with you

Insecurity is the root of it mostly, who would choose a massive fish monster over any average human? Let alone an attractive one.

He tries to make light of his insecurities with jokes but know that he is genuinely concerned he isn’t attractive enough for you. He plays it up like he thinks he’s the hottest man alive…

He doesn’t.

Very playful and makes tons of jokes about lots of things, dark humor to cope included

Once asked if you were a monster fucker, leaned in real close so you could look into his eyes properly

Grinned because he already knew the answer

He doesn’t like being flirted with by other people unless this means he’s getting something out of them, flirting to get more data is not above him

He knows some of the sick freaks down here look at him funny, and though he doesn’t know why, he wont stop them if it gets him something he needs

Never be scared of him leaving you, he’s got attachment issues and trust issues. You’re practically half his heart.

You better be able to handle being pawed at. Maybe not a ton but he likes to grab at thigh, chest, hip, anywhere that has the most meat. He’s got favorites depending on exactly how you’re built

If you’re on the thin side, he wants to squeeze your hips or waist to feel like he’s got a firm grip on you

If you’re on the average side, he prefers anywhere he can see the most pudge, stomach included

If you’re on the chubby side, he absolutely loves your thighs as it’s the easiest thing to grab for

He only squeezes and bites you when he’s fully comfortable, and would be happy to accept the same

Leave marks. He’d like that.

He doesn’t grab things off shelves for you unless he’s in a hurry or in front of other people

He prefers to pick you up and lift you to whatever you’re trying to grab…he has a habit of not letting you go after though so be careful

He does have a sex drive, he’s just not super open about it…again, insecurities

He doesn’t exactly have a human dick anymore you know

He’s got female anglerfish DNA too…so he also has pussy just cuz I feel like he should.

Yes he struggles with the idea of you being disgusted by that, he had some body issues for a while over it too

Honestly thinks you’d be disgusted with him if you wanted to sleep with him, so he’ll never bring it up and he’ll be nervously avoidant about the topic

Plus, he’s practically twice your size! That probably wouldn’t be fun for you at all anyway

All in all, insecure but loyal and quietly loving. He’s still rude and honestly? Most people would probably tell you to leave that guy. Definitely not the brand of man you wanna bring home to mama

But he’s in love with you. Genuinely. Hopefully that’s all you need from him

[mypimpademia]

— You Look Good Baby

Bakugo x Black! Fem! Reader

Synopsis: Your boyfriend is your biggest hype man, and takes more pride in you than he does himself.

TW: Swearing

⇶ When you’re dating the Katsuki Bakugo, rest assured that he will make it his personal mission that you have just as much confidence as him, if not more

⇶ There will simply be no room for insecurities in your relationship when he has enough confidence for the both of you

⇶ Contrary to what most people think, Katsuki holds you in a much higher regard than himself

⇶ If there is anything he worships besides himself, it’s the ground you walk on

⇶ He hardly even calls you by your name, only ever “beautiful,” “gorgeous,” “angel,” “dollface,” and the occasional “sexy.”

⇶ Does nothing but compliment you, even doing so silently, with the way he ogles you making your heart stop in the best way possible

“K, c’mere and look at this dress real quick,” you call out to your husband as you twist to and fro in front of your mirror.

While your boyfriend isn’t the best in his personal clothing choices, or at least he wasn’t before you got together, he’s shockingly the best person to ask for clothing advice.

“Should I return this and just wear my other dress to the party? I don’t like the way it fits me,” you asked him as you spun around to face him.

If you didn’t know any better, you would say the look he gave you was one of disgust.

“The fuck are you talkin’ about? You look incredible,” he snarls.

Spinning you by your waist in the mirror with one hand, he uses his other to make your gaze meet your reflection.

“What’s not to like when you’re so damn perfect, huh?” Katsuki asks, while pressing kisses on your jaw and down to your collarbone.

Between kisses, he tells you everything he loves about how the dress looks on you while his fingers dance in the curls at the base of your neck. How the color makes your skin glow, how it fits your body so well, how you make the dress look good and not the other way around.

You can only whine in response, letting his words combat all the negative thoughts you had before.

“You look good baby, don’t worry your pretty little head,” he assures you, placing one final kiss on your lips.

“Thank you ‘Suki,” you huff in a bated breath.

“Don’t say thank you, say I know.”

⇶ If you didn’t already have a big head before dating Katsuki, you will after.

⇶ If he weren’t your boyfriend, his behavior wouldn’t be something you’d expect from him in a romantic relationship

⇶ Somehow manages to use his massive ego to build yours

⇶ He’ll always take a compliment from you, hell, he takes compliments from anyone, but coming from anyone else he only ever answers with some form of “I know.”

⇶ But when it comes from you, he always flips it back on you

⇶ You call him pretty, but he’ll always remind you that you’re prettier

⇶ You tell him he smells good and he’ll tell you that he’s ready to eat you up

⇶ You like his new shirt, but whatever you have on is better. You could be naked and it’d still be better.

⇶ When you’re dating someone as great as Katsuki Bakugo, it’s hard not to get a big head when you’re somehow always better than the “best person to ever exist,” (his words)

⇶ Shows you off in public, almost parading you around in front of paparazzi and at large events

⇶ And even on the rare instances that you’re not dangling off his arm, the only time he interacts with interviewers is when he gets the chance to talk about you

Katsuki had barely even walked halfway on the red carpet before getting annoyed.

The endless noise of press hounding him with questions, the bright flashes of cameras, and hands that have been god knows where reaching over the barrier, attempting to touch him.

He’s never been one to care much about his public appearances, and eventually stopped caring to answering questions as they almost never interested him.

But there was always a certain topic he couldn’t help but indulge in.

“Dynamight! Y/n hasn’t been with you at your last few events, fans are dying to know— have the two of you split?” An interviewer asked.

The crowd erupted into chatter and gossip at the question. From shocked gasps to fan girls hoping they’re getting their chance, Katsuki could do nothing more than roll his eyes.

As much as he hated to entertain such a nonsensical question, how could he pass up the opportunity to talk about you? And even worse, how could he let them think you were anything less than together?

“Split?” He chuckled. “Far from it. The wife’s at home watchin’, she just wasn’t feelin’ it tonight.”

⇶ Regardless of how long you’ve actually been together, you’ve always been and always will be Katsuki’s wife

⇶ He does plan to actually marry you one day, of course, but ever since you first got together you were as good as married

⇶ He’s instilled it so heavily that even the public forgets the two of you aren’t actually married

⇶ You can’t even count the amount of times you’ve seen “Pro Hero Dynamight’s Wife” in headlines to refer to you

⇶ And of course there’s the occasional, ‘Y/n Bakugo’ that will be written into articles as your attribution

⇶ While they often get changed by the publishers for credibility and accuracy purposes, Katsuki can’t help but relish in the thought of the day that you take his last name

“‘Y/n Bakugo Steals Spotlight From Hero Husband Dynamight in Custom Versace Dress at the Annual Hero Gala,’” you read out to Katsuki, who sits next to you on the couch.

“S’not really stealin’ spotlight if it was always on you,” he chimes, looking over to read the headline himself.

“Easy for you to say when you know everyone is there for you,” you said, playfully pouting your glossy lips.

“Yeah right, meanwhile it’s your name plastered on the headline,” he retorted, pressing a kiss to the corner of your mouth.

“Well technically it’s not my name,” you corrected.

Katsuki pulled back from you, as if you’d just slapped him or done something in the highest offense.

“Huh? The fuck do you mean it’s not your name?” He scoffed.

“Well I’m not a Bakugo, Katsuki,” you raised an eyebrow, confused by his defensiveness.

Katsuki kissed his teeth, and sighed in blatant defeat before perking up again.

“Guess we’re gonna have to fix that, huh?” He grinned.

Effortlessly scooping you into his arms, he held you in a tight embrace, making you squeal as a he peppered kisses all over your face and neck.

“I’m just gonna have to put a fuckin’ boulder on your finger, buy you the dress of your dreams, then make sure I get you the wedding of the century, yeah? Can’t have you walkin’ around sayin’ that’s not your name,” he punctuated his words with a suffocating kiss to your mouth, making dramatic and board line gross kissing noises for effect.

“Katsuki Bakugo, you have 5 seconds to put me down ‘fore I put my hands on you!” You laughed, breathlessly pulling away from the kiss.

“Or what, Y/n Bakugo?” Placing a rough kiss to your cheek. “That sounds good doesn’t it? Y/n Bakugo. Wonder how our kids’ names would s—”

“Katsuki!”

⇶ If Katsuki could get paid to take pride in you, he wouldn’t even need to do hero work anymore

—

Taglist: @megurulvr @zairene @planetlunaa @rynfiles @szaplsdropthealbum @dreampurpledreams @goldenglow149 @gender-queery @roaringlion @cosmiles @tatiquichi @snowsammi @lillizxzz @strawhatkia @nikorubakugou @ruubric @justadekusimp @lokalblackie @strwbskitkat @blkluci @sansfangirl24

Send in an ask or DM me to be added to all taglists, or fill out my form to be added to select ones.

—

Thank you for reading, follow for more! Comments and reblogs are heavily appreciated!

[landosjpg]

from my pov | ln

lando norris x fem!reader

word count: ~1.0k

warnings: heavily implied body dysmorphia, disordered eating, insecurities, COMFORT

note: based on this request. despite of the previous warnings and this being more of a comfort blurb, i feel the need to clarify that i am NOT encouraging these behaviors and, as some sensitive topics are discussed, please DO NOT READ if this could be triggering for you or have any kind of negative impact on your mental health. i am also writing this from my own experience with these topics; everyone’s experience is different, so please be respectful.

and last, but obviously not least, if you’re going through something like this (or through anything, really) PLEASE REACH OUT! and if you’re not ready to do so, for whatever reason it might be, reminder that my messages are always open for anyone who needs a little rant or anything i could potentially help with.

and lastly, i don’t know how i feel about this one (yes i’m insecure about everything i post, leave me alone) so please share your thoughts with me as always <3

it had started only a few weeks ago. summer was around the corner, and inevitably, your social media was filled with girls in tiny crop tops or “summer body” posts.

normally, you wouldn’t pay too much attention to them; you liked your body the way it was.

but this year it was different. the stress of the past few weeks had a bigger impact on you that you ever expected.

the first time you noticed you were trying your summer clothes on. the skirt you loved being a little tighter than the last time you had used it.

it was only a few pounds, no one could really notice. but you could.

you shouldn’t have give it a second thought, but insecurities got the best of you and that very same moment you had decided that you needed to do something about it.

you would just stop snacking in between meals. you had it all under control, and in to time you would feel good about yourself again.

that’s what you told yourself.

but your rule of no snacking soon turned into skipping breakfast quite often and trying to make your meals as light as possible.

but you found yourself checking your body in the mirror more often than not whenever you were left alone.

“i’m back!” you heard your boyfriend announce, followed by the sound of the front door closing.

you felt your heart skip a beat at the thought of lando finding you like that, so you tried to put on your clothes as quickly as possible and wiped your tears from your cheeks before walking out of the bathroom.

you slowly paced to the kitchen where you knew he was, one of his hoodies over your body and your eyes inevitably red and puffy.

when you entered the kitchen, you didn’t even need to say anything for him to knew you where there, even with his back turned to you.

“got us dinner,” he said, taking the food out of a white plastic bag. “your favorite.”

you could feel his smile even when he still hadn’t turned to look at you yet, and it broke your heart a little that you weren’t in the mood for some junk food.

when your eyes met his, his face softened at the sight of you. he knew you were feeling down, but he also knew better than to ask. you would tell him, eventually.

“go choose a movie,” he uttered, voice tender. “i’ll be there in a second.”

you nodded and walked to the living room, sitting on the couch and trying to find a movie that could lift your mood up. just a little bit, at least.

it worked, for the last half of the movie; it eased off your worries for some time, and you found yourself lying on top of your boyfriend, worries about your recent insecurities now gone for a while.

you heard him sigh, his fingers brushing your hair softly as you rested your head on his chest with your eyes closed.

“tell me what’s up,” he whispered. “you’ve barely touched your food.”

“i’m not hungry,” you answered, making him roll his eyes.

“don’t lie to me.”

despite his insistence, he wasn’t mad; his tone was still gentle, and one of his hands slipped under your shirt to softly caress the skin of your waist. the touch that normally would have made you feel instantly better, this time making you tense a little. and he noticed, so he squeezed your side, urging you to speak.

“i just haven’t been feeling good lately,” you mumbled after a few seconds, your voice muffled as you were hiding your face in the crook of your boyfriend’s neck.

“hm?” he only hummed in response, kissing the top of your head and waiting for you to explain further, not really wanting to push you.

“i’ve put on a few pounds these past weeks,” your words were barely audible, voicing your insecurities was never an easy task.

lando heard you, though.

“that’s not a bad thing.”

“but it is,” you cut him off before he could add something else. his hand slowly rubbed your back as he took a deep breath. “you’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend.”

he chuckled, “don’t be silly.”

lando squeezed you in his arms and planted another soothing kiss to your temple, trying to find the correct words to say.

“i’m not saying that just because i’m your boyfriend,” he said, his voice almost a whisper. he held your chin and made you look at him. “you’re gorgeous, baby. everyone can see that.”

your lips formed a little pout as you heard your boyfriend’s words, which he was quick to kiss away.

“and nothing will change that, ever,” his eyes met your teary ones, the corners of his lips perking up at your vulnerable state.

“but i…”

“nuh huh,” he cut you off immediately with a slight shake of his head. “no ‘buts’, love. you look perfect to me.”

he softly tucked a strand of your hair behind your ear as he spoke, his eyes soft and his touch gentle when he then cupped your cheek.

“i wish you could see yourself with my eyes,” his whisper made you sigh as he nuzzled his nose softly against yours, comforting and sweet. “you’re the most beautiful girl i’ve ever seen, baby.”

“do you really mean it?” your eyes fluttered closed as you spoke, eyelashes resting on your cheeks.

“of course i do,” you could hear the small smile on his lips as he reassured you once again, the fingers that slowly creeped up the side of your body tickling your skin.

a sigh escaped your lips, your arms circling around your boyfriend’s neck as you pressed your lips against his in silent gratitude.

how lucky of a girl you were, you thought, for him to be just yours.

[redflagshipwriter]

Hot Ghouls in your Area 9

masterpost

“Good morning!”

Jason winced and moved the phone a little further from his face. “Is this Doctor Fenton?” 

“It's one of them! What can I do ya for?” Jack Fenton boomed, just as bombastic as his newsletter made him seem. Jason knew, deep in his heart, that Jack Fenton was indeed the one who had selected green neon bold for his headings and borders. 

Angels wept. Jason scrubbed his palm over his eye. This man had no poetry in his soul. “I, uh, had some questions about a ghost. I've read some of your articles and your most recent published paper on the topic.”

“We love ghosts!” Fenton bellowed. “Ask away!”

“Do you know a ghost called Phantom?” Jason tried.

“...Sure do,” Jack Fenton said. “Whatcha need?” 

Jason cleared his throat. “It's somewhat complicated,” he said evasively, because he didn't need these people to know he was the Red Hood. Fuck. He should have either gotten his helmet stored away or not given his real name. Phantom knew his face and that his name was Jason. Any information that got around via Phantom might tie his face to his alter ego. If Phantom said he got married to Jason, the Red Hood, that could lead to the end of the Bat family vigilantism.

“...He cause you trouble, sport?”

Jason let out a slight laugh. “You could say that, though it wasn't really his fault,” he admitted. He cast a paranoid eye out the window to be sure no siblings were creeping on him. “No, it's really more that…” Fuck, he should have planned this better. “Is there any information you can give me about how a human could contact him?” 

Not that Jason didn't have a phone number for the guy. But it made him very uncomfortable to have any basic knowledge or way to track Phantom down if he decided to leave Jason to whatever was going on. 

“I could probably do that,” Jack Fenton said slowly, now sounding like an entirely different human being. “Say, you wouldn't be Jeremy, would you?”

Jason blinked. “...How did you know?” He went with. Phantom had contact with a human guy named Jeremy? That might be his in.

“Oh, well then, you've definitely got to come over,” Dr. Fenton wheedled. It somehow came across as shifty. “You'll be wanting a whole primer on how the Ghost Zone works, won't ya?” 

“That would be immensely helpful,” Jason agreed. “But I'd hate to take up your valuable time.”

“Nonsense!” Fenton bellowed. Jason nearly lost his grip on his phone in surprise. “Come over Jeremy, I'm dying to meetcha!” 

So, there was a plan. Jason packed for a day trip and dialed up his travel agent. 

“Fuck off,” said Tim. “I'm busy. Christ.” 

“I need an airplane ticket and a rental bike to Illinois,” Jason continued. He tossed his mostly full bag on the sofa and went digging for the socks he knew he had washed the other night. “I'm going to go see some nerds about my impromptu adventure the other day.”

Tim groaned. That was the first Jason had given any hint at all about what had happened to him when he'd been ‘sacrificed.’ “What nerds?” He asked wearily. 

Jason grinned into his sock drawer. Gottem. “Why, do you all know each other?” He asked blithely. 

“Do you always antagonize people you want favors from?” Tim whined. A keyboard clacked rapidly in the background. “Jason, I swear to God, you massive bitch. Cut the crap and communicate, or I'm hanging up.” 

Jason frowned at his socks and grabbed a random pair. “You don't gotta be like that,” he said sulkily. He slammed the socks into his bag with a very unsatisfying silence. “So, the ritual doohickey sent me to the infinite underworld, I met a guy there actually and we are magically connected because he's who that dumb ritual matched me up to. He doesn't want to be stuck with a human so we are on the same page about breaking this. We started looking for answers and he took me back to Earth since it's not good for humans to be in the green dimension for too long.” 

There was silence from the other end of the line for a few seconds. “You're fucking lying,” Tim said. 

“Only by leaving things out.” A bit stung, Jason pulled a hand through his hair and accidentally ruined his good hair day. 

“What are you leaving out?” Tim rejoined swiftly.

Jason laughed at him. “You think you're getting that kinda information in exchange for plane tickets?” He asked incredulously. 

“You are the most annoying person who has ever tried to kill me.”

Ouch. That genuinely stung.

“Fuck off.” Jason slammed the drawers shut. 

“I could guess aliens or supernatural off of what you just said.” Tim ignored Jason’s very good point. “Based off of your trip to the Gotham U campus and-”

“Are you still stalking me?” Jason cut him off, incredulous. He scoffed. “Little buddy, you already got my pixie boots, Red Robin costume, and my Dad. What else do you wanna take from me?”

“I think that you were there to assess Daniel Fenton,” Tim ignored him.

Jason was silent for a moment. There was probably no point in pretending that Tim was wrong. “You already knew about the Fenton’s connection to the supernatural.” He was suddenly tired.

“His older sister is an intern at Arkham, she stepped out of line to get a chance to talk to Jeremy Waters.” Tim didn’t seem to notice that the mood had changed. He was caught up on whatever twenty level plan was whirring away internally.

Jason looked at the wall for a moment, not bothering to think about why that name was familiar. “...and that is…?”

“The guy who kidnapped you, keep up,” Tim snarked. “Her supervisor guessed what she was hinting at, shut her down, put a note about it in the private server so there was a paper trail if she turns out to be a collaborator.”

““Private” is a strong word to describe that server.” Jason rubbed at his jawline and hefted his bag out to the bathroom to gather his shaving kit. 

“Mmhm,” Tim said blandly. “I bugged her phone. The signal is absurdly bad, unexplainably bad. She doesn’t send a lot of messages, but she had a very suspicious call with Daniel Fenton where, among other things, she hinted she had inside knowledge regarding some kind of local mystery, possibly criminal activity. Her brother accused her of supporting crime.”

Jason groaned. “I’m going to interview their parents.” He checked that the razor blades were stowed away correctly before snapping shut the travel case. Then he noticed that his bathroom mirror could use a wipedown. He left his bag for a moment to dig for the cleaner.

“Probably for the best,” Tim said, definitely misunderstanding his purpose. “They seem…” He trailed off when he couldn’t find an appropriate adjective.

“You should read a book,” Jason said, because he saw an opportunity to be an asshole. “Anyway, I wanna get out to the area tonight and see them in the morning. What’s my flight?” He spritzed the glass and watched his reflection blur. It was oddly comforting to not have to stare at his green eyes.

‘That ghost zone was the same green as the Lazarus Pits,’ Jason thought dully. He didn’t really want to think about it. But he had a pretty good idea why he hadn’t had the reaction to the place that Danny expected a human to have.

“Kon could take you,” Tim said sweetly, which was basically a death threat. It was enough to jar him back to the real world. Kon was still not feeling chill about the Titans Tower scuffle. It probably wasn’t good for him to be so petty, but Jason was not going to be the one to tell baby Superdork that.

Jason winced. “I was thinking more like United.”

Tim snickered. 

[jinhyun]

Omggggg

Lino and the "friends? Why are you looking at me like that?" prompt, where he asks reader what they are, and is finally frustrated (and whipped) enough to come clean about his feelings, after some time in their fwb/situationship, or wtv they had going on

Like some angsty (or maybe funny?) thing, with a happy ending obviously, it's all up to you if it's something you're interested in writing :)

Love your works, hope you're doing great love!!

"What are we?"

"Friends?" you answered in a heartbeat.

And maybe your answer had come just a little too fast for his liking; like you were too fucking sure of the fact that the two of you were just friends.

Not even the way your head had tilted as you spoke, or how your tone had come out as more of a questioning one, was enough to convince him you were not entirely sure of your answer either.

Minho remained silent, staring at you intensely enough to let you know with his eyes alone that he was not pleased at all.

"Why are you looking at me like that?" you asked, voice almost like a whisper.

He shrugged, taking his eyes off you and focusing on the door instead — the locked doorknob only seeming oh-so-ironic by then.

"Minho?" you pushed it, following his eyes and growing nervous at the sight of the cynical smile curving up his mouth.

"It's just funny, I guess" he finally replied, eyes fixing back on you. "I'm pretty sure friends don't lock themselves in the bathroom just so they can make out while all their friends are downstairs. I guess I got it all wrong".

"Stop it," you mumbled, grabbing his wrist when he tried to reach for the doorknob. "Are you really mad right now?"

"Should I not?" he raised a questioning eyebrow.

"I don't know, I..." you took a deep breath, not understanding how it all went wrong so fast. "I thought this is what you wanted? We were good like this? No strings attached?"

"Maybe at first, but things have changed now" he stated, looking into your eyes for some kind of confirmation. "Am I really the only one who feels that everything's changed between us?"

He wasn't. So, you let him know by lowering your head.

It had all started with a drunken kiss that later turned into more, but neither of you were stupid enough not to realise that the alcohol intoxicating your systems had only given you the little push you needed to do what you both had wanted to for a good while by then.

So, the next time it happened, neither of you needed to use alcohol as an excuse. And after that it just kept happening — over and over, like it was the most natural of things between you two.

You had never sat down to discuss the grounds of whatever this new dynamic of yours was. You were just friends who enjoyed the intimacy of each other's bodies, and you were okay with it so far. Your friendship didn't have to change because of it.

But it did.

Before you could even tell, it did; and you both were left feeling like the kisses you shared and the touches that made you come undone in a matter of minutes, meant something deeper than just two friends having fun together.

It was unspoken, but there had been a switch in your relationship; and although neither of you had been brave enough to bring it up —until now—, you both had welcomed it with open arms.

"Are we really just friends?" He asked.

You laughed under your breath, weakly. Still too stunned by the sudden question.

"What's so funny?" He frowned.

"Nothing," you shook your head, looking up to meet his eyes. "I just, never thought you'd care about labels".

"Well, obviously I'd care when Chan is trying to set you up with one of his friends".

That's when it hit you, why he had dragged you upstairs only a couple of minutes after the whole 'dating' topic was discussed — crashing his mouth against yours the moment the door was closed and cornering you against the sink, where he would later sit you down on.

Most importantly, however, it hit you why the question that was looking to define your relationship had so smoothly ran past his lips.

Smiling, you took a hold of his wrists, pulling him closer and placing them on your waist, before your arms snaked around his neck.

"So this is just you wanting to have some kind of claim on me?"

"I wouldn't call it a claim on you," he disagreed, softly caressing your sides with his thumbs out of utter habit. "Just, don't want you to go out with other people".

"Just say you fell for me and go" you smirked.

"Shut up..." he sighed, gently letting his forehead rest on yours. "But you're mine, though".

You could hardly hold back a squeal at the sound of those words abandoning his mouth, but you somehow managed to by biting your lip and shaking your head in defeat as a wide smile tried to break through. "Didn't you just answer your own question now?"

"Nope, I just said you're mine" he pulled you closer, tightening his hold on your waist. "Still don't know what we are".

You sighed, lovingly this time. It almost felt like a dream, where you got what you had wanted all along. Almost too surreal to believe this was reality.

"All of this because Channie vaguely mentioned setting me up with one of his mates?" You couldn't help but incredulously let out.

"Yes, now give me a proper answer".

"Why don't you take me out on a date first?" you proposed. "You know, like, a proper boyfriend and girlfriend date?"

You could see the way he beamed at the mention of said labels; he did not try to hide it at all. "And then I'll have my answer?"

You smiled, tenderly brushing your lips against his. "And then you'll have your answer".

Laughing under his breath as his hands cupped your face and his thumb traced your bottom lip, he whispered a small 'okay' before he closed the gap between your mouths.

Just like that, closing the deal.

"And you better not hit me with the friends bullshit again, becau—"

You shut him up with another kiss. One that would last longer, and that was enough for him to know you would never try to deny the obvious feelings between the two of you again.

[joontroverted]

hate the way you smile

bully! baji keisuke x popular girl reader

fandom : tokyo revengers

word count : 5.5k

tags : he is a bully (only to you tbh), dubcon, panty kink, he gives you a wedgie lol, pussy eating, anal fingering (just a bit), exhibitionism, groping, stalking (kinda), they are in school for the only purpose of them wearing uniforms, but I've been kinda vague about that because I hate writing high school aus, so you can def imagine them to be in college, all characters are 18+ only

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT, IF THESE TAGS DO NOT SUIT YOU, SCROLL

you're not a loser.

quite the contrary actually, you're very popular. 

you joined the school pretty late, which itself was not very common, causing everyone to ogle at you. and judging from the way they treat you, they liked what they saw.

your features and mannerisms captivated everyone, right from the way you walked into class to the little smile you gave after the introduction the teacher forced you into doing. that would've been called cringe on anyone else, but you pulled it off.

keisuke has been waiting for the other shoe to drop, but it never does. 

yeah yeah, you were the shiny new thing when you first walked in. and then you got most of your answers correct in class, no matter when the teacher called on you. most of the answers, that is, because when you got an answer wrong and the teacher corrected you, keisuke finally felt vindicated. that would be the start of the chipping of your bright exterior. 

but no. instead you snorted (and God even your snort was cute) and rolled your eyes, muttering stupid before smacking yourself on the side of the head with the tip of your pencil. that had the class giggling, causing even the teacher to smile as she continued with the rest of the topic. 

what the hell? what was even funny about all this? 

(he watched you tuck your hair behind your ear, with a little lopsided smile on your face as you suddenly realized the rest of the class had heard you. you fanned yourself as if that would blow the embarrassment away somehow, and for just a second your eyes flitted up to his. he turned away immediately.)

"what do you think of the new girl."

“huh?” says mikey stupidly, his eyes trained on takemichi of all people. keisuke shares a look with draken, deciding to get to the bottom of whatever that is, later.

“she has a name, you know,” says draken, stretching, as the three of them are spread out on the bleachers. 

“what, d’you like her or something?”

“very funny,” he replies, rolling his eyes at keisuke. “emma thinks she's really pretty, and you know emma. she immediately went up to her and started chattering away and the next thing you know they have a bubble tea date planned. i think she even dragged takemichi's girl into it.”

“i don't think they're dating,” mikey’s head whips around, finally decided to acknowledge the two of them.

“they hold hands all the time!”

“did both of them come and tell you word for word that they're dating?” says mikey seriously. 

keisuke and draken exchange another incredulous look.

“yeah, that's what i thought” says mikey victoriously. he turns to keisuke. “do you like her?”

“who the hell are we even talking about anymore?”

“the new girl, keisuke, god, how can you forget what you were talking about so quickly?”

“tch. there's nothing to like about her. gave me something to laugh at with that stupid little introduction she gave us on her first day, but she's just another girl. i don't know why everyone's so obsessed with her.”

“she gave me some of her lunch when she saw me sniffing her,” says mikey unhelpfully. “people should start doing that more.”

“you should stop sniffing people,” replies draken, disgusted.

“guess what she smells like!”

“like cocoa butter on some days and like flowers on others,” blurts out keisuke. 

both mikey and draken turn their heads to keisuke.

“that's what all girls smell like, what the fuck!” he retaliates, looking away, his face burning.

“emma doesn't.”

“yeah, and neither does hina. or takemichi,” drawls mikey, squinting at him. “and you're right. she does smell like cocoa butter. i don't know about flowers. but then again, i’m not the one obsessed with her.”

“i'm not obsessed with her!” hisses keisuke. “and keep your voice down, will you, i’m sure the rest of the world heard you!”

“mikey! draken!” a voice calls from the field in front of them. 

they all turn to see it's you, in your skorts and top, visor in one hand and racquet in the other. the skorts (who the hell came up with that mopey idea) seem to hug your waist just right, the shortness of them making your legs look longer. your top is sticking to your skin from all the sweat you had built up from the match you just had, the white becoming almost see through, and he wonders how you’re either actually goddamn stupid or that desperate for attention for you to wear a red bra underneath it.

you wave at them enthusiastically, and you're close enough to them for him to see your eyes land on him, and you give him a little wave too.

mikey and draken wave back. keisuke rolls his eyes and looks away. “fucking of course she plays tennis, how pretentious,” he mutters.

“how come the girl you're obsessed with doesn't give a fuck about you?” snickers mikey as you walk away, surrounded by your group of girls, chattering and laughing. 

“i'm not obsessed with her first of all, and second of all, we don't even know each other because i’m not a serial sniffer like you.”

“maybe you should be,” sniffs mikey, “‘cuz guess what i smell right now?”

“shut the- ”

“a boy in looove,” sing mikey and draken together, bursting into laughter.

walking home, the more he thinks about your tennis uniform, the more he's pissed off. that wouldn't be a regular bra now, would it? probably a sports bra. he imagines you peeling off the tight top in the locker rooms, laughing with the other girls. how the sweat makes it a bit harder to tug off the bra, causing you to flail around a bit, before it comes off fully. he thinks about you basking in the freedom from it for a bit, chest heaving from all the exertion of the game, nipples hardened from the sudden exposure. 

he imagines you bend over and tug off the skorts you were wearing, wondering what panties you had on. would they be red, like your bra? you seem like a stuck up bitch who would make sure of stupid things like that. judging from how snugly the skorts had fit you, your panties would probably be digging into your soft skin, wouldn't they? were your panties riding up your pussy? the thought is quickly followed by the image of tight, red panties wedged up your pussy, he could almost hear you whine as you pulled them down and off of you. he didn't even have to imagine the rest before he broke off into a run to his home so he had some material left to finish himself off.

bad thoughts. these are bad thoughts that are too raunchy and precious for someone as annoying as you. 

(to his utter irritation, it's the small smile you had on your face when you waved at him that pushed him over the edge at the end.)

you're not a loser.

so fuck knows why you're so hellbent on doing the project exactly the way you wanted to, with absolutely no room for creative liberties, no changes in font, and every single time keisuke suggested something he could see you typing up a storm on the group chat. he made sure to see the message, but not read it and then be conveniently offline for the rest of the day. he was sure you would resort to calling him to beg him to not deviate from the color pallete you (and you alone) had decided on. obviously everyone else nodded and went along with your decision. but you hadn't called. 

so here you are, trailing after him. 

“keisuke!”

he groans and keeps walking down the hallway.

“keisuke! i just wanted to let you know that i know it feels like i'm being so restrictive, but all these rules are just for the presentation, like the ppt!” you dodge a couple walking hand in hand and you turn around and wave at them. “you guys are so cute! anyways, keisuke, you have complete freedom over what you want to say during your part of the presentation!”

“ha, so can i talk about my favorite kpop star while the rest of you are talking about the american involvement in the korean war? thanks!” he snorts, striding away.

“i didn't mean whatever you want, i meant you can speak about your portion however you want! the format we've decided on is just for the ppt!” you hurry around a sharp corner he took, still following him.

“we didn't decide anything. you chose the topic, and you chose the format of the ppt,” he grits out.

“well, when we were going around suggesting ideas, everyone seemed to like mine, so they went with it. and you weren't even in the meet!”

he grunts. that was true.

you open your mouth to say something and someone’s calling your name, so you turn around to respond to them. by the time you turn back he's gone again.

“fuck! fuck!” you mutter, adjusting your tote bag over your shoulder. God, he is so irritating. him and how serious he always is about treating you like shit but never taking it all the way. you always feel the prick of his eyes staring at you, and initially you always turned to smile or talk to him, but he'd just look away and outwardly ignore you. 

you had taken to staring back at him, in hopes of him at least taking it as a sign to leave you alone but that hadn't worked either. 

instead, now you know how his silky hair slinks to the front of his face as time passes during classes, and how he absentmindedly gnaws on his pens with his canine teeth. you know how he actually prefers putting his hair up in a high ponytail rather than a low one on the few occasions that he does tie his hair. you know he's actually studying when he’s wearing his red reading glasses. he takes his blazer off often and he's rather ripped, and you're embarrassed to say that you might've asked around why. your classmates said he has a black belt and used to beat people up for fun. 

you can't figure out if that's a joke or not. 

you don’t care that he ignores you, you have enough friends and more than enough people who would pay attention to you. but it kept building and building. everyone said he was a quiet but nice guy. was rowdy when he was younger, but mellowed down and began to focus on school a bit more. you would love to see that side of him, especially now in the crux of the group project. he still had a wild side to him apparently and everyone knew not to mess with him and his loyal set of goons kazutora and chifuyu (who is quite the loser himself), but you'd had just about enough today. you had messaged him that you would like to talk when classes ended, and clearly he didn't give a fuck. 

one last attempt, you promise. one last attempt and then you can boot him off of the project and be at peace again.

remember when you couldn't figure out if they were lying about baji keisuke being a bully or not? well, you're about to find out, because while you're digging through your bag for your history project folder, you don't see the foot sticking out right around the corner you turn.

one minute you're walking on solid ground, the next minute you're in the air and crashing down on it.

your bag provides no security at all, all the books, your cute stationery, the folder, your sanitizer, lip gloss, and all the little trinkets clatter onto the floor, spreading out onto the empty hallway. 

you look up to see golden eyes, framed by dark silky hair staring down at you. 

“what the fuck?” anger rolls through you. “what the fuck, baji?”

“oh, so it's baji now, is it? it was keisuke! keisuke! just a second ago!” he mimics your voice with a laugh.

you're still on your knees on the floor. you look around, and the school is empty, even the last of the people remaining would be downstairs in the cafeteria. 

“lookin’ for all your admirers?” he sneers, bending down to pick up one of your keychains. 

“what do you want from me?” you ask, reaching up to take it from him, but he snatches his hand back. “give it back!”

“you don't have to worry about this,” he says cooly, watching you try to gather all your stuff. you're on all fours, grabbing your things. you're getting nowhere ultimately, everything is far too spread out.

keisuke watches as your skirt hikes higher and higher up, teasing him with little glimpses at your white panties. was that lace on the sides? keisuke almost falls to his knees just from that, as you continue being a stupid slut so obliviously.

“get up!” he snaps and hauls you up with a firm grip on your bicep. “i told you not to worry about that!”

“oh yeah?” you ask, turning to him, your voice raising. “i would love to not worry about this, considering i was just minding my own business! i would love to not worry about the group project but you don't give a fuck!”

he raises his eyebrows, watching you go off on him. you get closer and closer to him, and start pushing him in his chest. “i'd at least like to have a conversation with you, but no, you're such a fucking asshole that you'd rather just stare at me resentfully like a creep instead of actually come up to me and talk to me! but i get it you know, i'd also be so full of hate if i was made to repeat a year but still remained as stupid as i was when i failed!” 

the silence that follows is palpable. 

you don't stand down. for once, there isn't a spec of your usual sweetness or benefit of doubt. you are glaring at him, looking right into his eyes, daring him to respond. 

“so you've been asking around about me, huh?”

“that's rich coming from you. if i see you stare at me one more time, or blatantly ignore me, or disrespect me again, i'll gouge your fucking eyes out!” you hiss, pushing him one final time. you turn around and once again bend over to start collecting your things.

“stop.”

“you are not allowed to- “

“i'll leave you alone if you do this.”

that makes you turn back to him. hurts a lil bit to see you only listen to him so he'd leave you alone, but he’d brought this upon himself. “what do you want,” you spit. 

he stares at you for a moment. you wonder if he's just gonna burst out laughing at how you deluded yourself into thinking that he'd leave you alone, right after he knocked you to the ground like that. his hair's out of his ponytail and his tongue pokes the inside of his cheek, his fangs flashing at you. 

he tilts his head to the side, and gives you a lazy grin. his eyes however, remain serious and trained on you.

“show me your panties.”

you balk, your anger dimming, replaced with confusion. “what?”

he looks serious as ever. he leans forward into your personal space, his hair almost brushing yours. “show me your panties,” he says slowly, as if he were talking to someone stupid, “and i'll consider leaving you alone.”

“con- consider? you told me you'd leave me alone!”

“depends. yes or no?”

“no! no! obviously no!” you're completely flushed, and you try pulling the hem of your skirt down defensively, wishing you hadn't snuck off to the bathroom to roll it up an inch before you came out to talk to him. “i'm not gonna show you my panties!”

he looks at you with a sort of bored but also amused look in his face. 

“do you seriously think i haven't noticed that your skirt's shorter now than it was in class?” he flips the tuck of your shirt up, “ah, there it is. you've rolled your skirt up just to come talk to me.”

“no… no!” you sputter, all the fight in you bleeding out from embarrassment. “i didn't, and i didn't do it for you!”

“i know you want my attention anyways. so let me be clear. either you show me your panties, which seems like you wanted to do that anyways, or i make you show me your panties.” he smiles, so simply and easily as if he's discussing what to get for lunch. “as simple as that.”

you snort. “you're gonna make me show you my panties? and how's that gonna work?” 

he laughs. “easily.”

you shouldn't have asked that, you think. keisuke pushes off the wall he's been leaning on and walks towards you. you walk back, unsure of what to do, your eyes never leaving each others, yours wide in shock and his sharp like a snake. your back hits the wall, and now you've got nowhere to go. 

“like this,” he whispers, and tugs you forward a bit by your belt loops. he then reaches forward, peering above your shoulder, and you stupidly lean forward almost on instinct. his silky hair brushes against your cheek, and for a second, you're lost in the sensation of that and the next moment, you feel his fingers fiddle with the back of waistband of your skirt, untucking it. 

“you tuck your shirt into your panties, huh?” he murmurs, “you're really such a loser.”

“what are you do- ah!”

his fingers are on the waistband of your panties now. and he pulls. the fabric gets pulled up from the back and digs into your ass from his tug. embarrassment floods your body from how humiliating this is, but also from how disgustingly wet you feel yourself getting.

“keisuke! keisuke, please!” you whisper, turning to look at him, but he's still looking over your shoulder. there's no way to conceal his view, because not only is he taller than you but also he can see down into your skirt.

“ah, there she is,” he mutters. another tug. “i don't know why you didn't want me to see ‘em. well, i already did see a bit of them when you were sprawled on the floor on all fours looking helpless, but you can't expect me to be satisfied just from that.”

“keisuke, please, stop it!” you squeal, ears hot. you can't believe he's basically giving you a wedgie, his fingers are in your panties and your out in public, more or less.

“all right then.” your panties snap back in place, stinging a bit. he pushes away a step, hands up. “run along then, little loser.”

you stand still head down, with a humiliating feeling settling in you. you don't want to leave.

he watches you not make a single move to your fallen bag or even to run away. 

“fuck, i knew there was something weird about you! i knew you weren't this sweet little popular preppy princess everyone makes you out to be!” he laughs, his deep voice echoing down the empty hallway. “you're a nasty little whore, aren't you?”

“m'not a nasty whore!” you whine, “i just- “

“fuck am i gonna have my way with you,” he whistles. “i was being polite earlier. turn around.”

“why- “

“talk all you like whore, but i better see you listening to what i say,” he cuts you off. He takes off his blazer, dropping it to the ground and folding his arms. “turn around.”

you turn around, with an inkling of what he's going to do. you stare at the lockers in front you and bite your lip.

“hands on the lockers.”

“what are you go- “

he lifts up your skirt and tucks it deep into the waistband, leaving you panty clad ass completely exposed. the cool air hitting you there directly makes you clench involuntarily and he almost moans from how cute and innocent that looks. he's finally got a good look at your panties. white, fitted cotton panties with a lace trim. it's ridiculous how simple it and how much it manages to choke him up. the back of the panties are still a bit yanked up from where he had pulled earlier, and you're clearly dying from embarrassment based on how low you're holding your head.

well, there's no time to waste.

he grabs onto the waistband at the back of your panties and pulls. the material disappears into your cheeks, digging up and up and up as he pulls, and you almost lose balance from the force of it. “keisuke!” you gasp, your hand coming back for some support. “i- “

“are you stupid?” he snarls, tugging up once more, causing you to jump from how mean he sounds, “or are your hands on the lockers?"

your hands are immediately on the lockers. 

“good girl,” he mutters, “goood girl.” he pulls more and more on your poor panties, and they're crudely rubbing against your hole. your feet almost leave the ground with ever tug he gives, causing you to bounce. you're almost dead with humiliation, but the grinding against your clit and the embarrassment of the whole situation has you so flustered and wrecked.

“i hate you, i hate you, i hate you, keisuke!”

he's so focused on your hot your ass looks, clenched around your panties like that, soft cheeks being put through such torture, and he can't imagine how your puckered little hole must feel from all the abuse it's taking. makes him wanna kiss it better. 

“what is it? you don't like being treated like the little loser you are, huh?” he croons into your ear. “is this not princess treatment enough for you?”

he lets you go all of a sudden, and you almost crumple to your knees, but he catches you and hauls you up, turning you towards him. 

“you havin fun?” he taunts, towering over you. 

“fuck off! you're so mean!” you sniffle, trying to pull your panties down.

“ah ah,” he says sternly, smacking your hands away. “none of that. i'm not done with you. boys!”

the door of the classroom next to you is kicked open and you see kazutora and chifuyu walk out, who follow keisuke like shadows and drank up every word he said loyally.

you glare at keisuke, who has both your wrists in a firm grip in just one hand of his. he grins at them. “told ya she's a slut.”

kazutora snickers, but your eyes remain on chifuyu. he's on the fucking math team with you! you glare holes into his eyes as he looks your way, and his cheeks turn pink, either because it's nerd recognizes nerd or it's because your skirt is tucked all the way up with your entire ass and panties exposed.

keisuke's attention is back on you as he lifts your wrists above your head, pinning them to the lockers behind you. you try to fight him, but it's fruitless. he then tucks the front of your skirt into your waistband too, leaving the front of your panties exposed too.

your panties have a little heart stitched onto the front, your pubic hair peeking out from the lace on the leg holes. 

“now, isn’t she a pretty baby,” keisuke laughs to himself, as your heart flutters a little from that praise. “hold her up for me, boys.”

“what do you mean hold me up?”

kazutora and chifuyu position themselves on either side of you and hold on the sides of your underwear. “chifuyu!” you gasp, turning to look at the boy, who refuses to make eye contact with you, but does what his supreme leader says anyways.

“hey!” keisuke snaps his fingers in front of your face. “you don't focus on anyone but me, kay?”

you narrow your eyes.

he squishes both your cheeks with one hand, making your lips pucker out. “answer.”

“okay, okay,” you whimper, breaking eye contact. 

“eyes on me, sweetheart. i'm gonna let go your hands now. if you try anything, you're gonna find out cute you look with a smack on your face, got it?”

your eyes turn watery as you look into his, lips pushing into a pout. “got it,” you mutter.

“there's my girl. now let's see what we have here.” and with that he sinks to his knees, till he's face level with your panties. he places his big hands on the outside of either thigh, running them up and down for a moment, sending shivers up your spine. he grips your thighs and watches his nails sink into your fatty flesh, and how you gasp at the pain that feels so good.

he leans forward and places a kiss on your mound, and then goes lower and places another firm kiss on your clit. the little whimper you give spurs him on. he pushes his nose between your lips and sniffs, groaning to himself. 

“fuck that's good pussy,” he presses his nose alone the slit and goes up and up until it meets your clit and he presses down as his lips comes up to rub your pussy through your panties. his nose rubbing on your clit has you moaning, as if there aren't two of your classmates holding you up by your panties, your legs weak. 

“gimme those hands,” he demands, his voice rough. you place your hands in his gingerly. he places a gentle kiss on both of them, so uncharacteristic to the situation you are in, and how he's been treating you. “i'm gonna give you a very important job, got it?”

“uh huh,” you whisper.

“you're gonna hold my hair up while i eat your pussy through your panties, okay? i don't wanna be missing a moment of it because of my hair getting in the way”

you almost short circuit. you stare at him dumbly, and are brought back to the moment when he places a sharp right onto your pussy lips.

“yes! yes!” you nod, and with your painted pink nails, you gently push back his hair and hold it in a ponytail. “this okay?”

he nods, and gives you a little wink. you gulp and look away.

“all right, we're back to business,” he mutters, going back down to your pussy. “hold ‘em higher for me.”

kazutora and chifuyu (whom you'd almost forgotten about from the previously somewhat sweet moment) pull your panties higher from the sides, making you gasp as they dig into your pussy this time.

keisuin prods and pushes at your pussy lips. he pushes the leg holes of your panties closer and closer together, little by little before he yanks on the top your panties suddenly, causing them to slip between your lips and tug up to your clit.

“ah! keisuke! that's really- “

“c'mon boys hold her higher for me, will ya? i don't mind if your bounce her for me. pussy's so wet just from all this panty action, let’s see how sensitive her little clit is, huh?”

he's talking over you like you're some thing. the boys pull you higher this time, and you can't help but marvel at the strenth of your panties for a hot second before bliss shoots up your body as the crotch of your panties rub against your clit, and you're finally getting some good direct action. 

keisuke watches the wet spot in your panties grow bigger and bigger as your panties dig deeper into your clit, your fat pussy lips hang out from either side of the thin bunched up material and your knees knock together from how horny you are and how desperately you're trying to squeeze for more friction. all while you diligently hold his hair back. even in this debauched state, you're adorable. his dick is straining against his pants, he unbuckles them and frees himself, his mouth watering as he dives right in.

panties riding up to the maximum level, he laps up against them, tasting your juices. he spreads your lips even further, making sure there's no room whatsoever for you to escape and you whine and kick. his eyes almost roll back to his skull and his soul ascends when his tongue comes in contact with the slick and gummy insides of your pussy, clenching around both him and your panties. he's growing jealous of your panties now.

“change of plans,” he says, gruffly, “hold her up by her legs, and if you drop her, i swear to god, you're dead.”

chifuyu and kazutora are quick to follow, as they each take one leg and lift you up, holding you open and ready for keisuke, but this time with your entire pussy directly facing him. you wail at the sudden change, but to no one's surprise you're ignored.

keisuke pushes your panties to the side and can finally see your pussy in all it's glory. your cute little bush and your gaping pussy from all the edging it has taken a minute ago. he rolls his saliva around in his tongue and then spits a glob of his spit right onto your pussy. you clench at the feel of how lewd it is, the warm, thick saliva coating your vagina and sliding down, dripping from your asshole. it's disgusting, but it feels so good. 

he pushes his entire face in, slurping and swallowing all you have to offer. you're glad that the two are holding you up, because you're too fucked out to even feel the tips of your toes, let alone stand. through all this, you make sure to hold his hair back, because you don't want him to be mad at you.

a finger presses on your asshole and you quiver with shock, snapping out of your daze. “kei- kei, keisuke, not there, not!”

you babble stupidly, passed the point of coherence, as keisuke lets you bounce a little on his fingertip dipping in and out of your puckered little hole, while he slurps up your perfect little pussy, sucking and flicking your clit. 

“‘m gonna cum! ‘m gonna cum!” you sob, kicking your feet a bit, like the spoiled little thing you are. 

“cum baby. i've got you,” he mutters, as he reaches up one hand to give your tits a hard squeeze. that's the final straw for you, as you finally let go, nipples aching, pussy tingling and asshole prodded open. you come on his mouth and he eagerly drinks up every last drop, jerking himself faster and faster. 

“bring her down,” he groans, and the lower you down to the floor, still holding you and keeping you spread. you look up him, your mouth agape as you watch him fist himself and push himself to the edge, cumming all over your face. at first you're taken aback, but then you just sink into the feeling of the hot cum drizzling all over your face dripping down… it almost feel therapeutic.

god. you really are a whore. and a loser.

you sigh. 

“oi, go pick her stuff up, and put it in her bag. nicely, like in however cute way she usually does it.”

you're gently set on the ground, on your hands and knees, shaking slightly. you see kazutora and chifuyu walk away and start gathering your stuff up off of the floor. keisuke kneels down to you, pulling a handkerchief out of his pocket. he pushes you slightly onto your knees and wipes the cum off of your face so gently and so sweetly, you could've mistaken it for your sweetheart wiping your wet face after a running home on a rainy day.

“you okay?” he asks.

you blink. “are you happy?”

“huh?”

“are you happy that you finally got to debase me and see me as a person and not some shiny new thing?”

“to be honest, you were a shiny thing till i wiped all the shininess away right now.”

you smack him on his chest with the back of your hand.

“i'm sorry,” he says looking into your eyes. “i just… um. have a crush on you that was so overwhelming that i wanted to, well, debase you,” he mutters. 

you laugh, and scratch your face. “whoa, i totally had no clue whatsoever.”

“is your face still sticky? tora, she has some wet wipes in her bags, toss ‘em over.” the wet wipes fly into his hands, and he pulls one out, wads it up and starts cleaning you up again. 

“how did you know i have wet wipes in my bag?”

“maybe i’ve looked through it before. maybe i haven't, who knows?” he shrugs, not looking at you, suddenly extremely concentrated on the area near your eye. 

“when did you even- ”

“i might also have memorized your schedule, and all the classes you take. oh, and i also need your panties from today.”

he gets a slap in the face for that.

this was 2.5k words longer than it was supposed to be. i'd love to hear what you think of it 😇

likes, comments, asks and reblogs HIGHLY APPRECIATED ❤️

read my other tokyo revengers fic!

kiss it better (ran haitani)

dividers by the super creative @anitalenia you can tell, I'm kinda obsessed 🌟

[miniimight]

aaa hello!! as an izuku stan i am flocking to your account bcs he's just so cute and i love how you write him!! would it be okay to request an Izuku centric scenario where he has a partner that just loves listening to his rambling? where everyone else would kinda brush it off and he gets used to being ignored, his partner attentively listens and he doesn't know so when they bring up something he was talking about in his rambling he's like 😮❓ all surprised and cute 😭 thank you!!

❝ YOU WERE LISTENING ?! ❞ izuku's surprised you paid attention

with izuku

notes ahhhh this request is so cute awww <3

you had asked izuku whatcha up to, baby? an hour ago. he was still answering that question. something about reviewing sidekick applications?

you were sitting on the couch, leaning on the handle as izuku sat below you, papers sprawled all over the ground. he found each one enthralling for so many reasons, which he explained to you in great detail.

izuku had enough friends to know that his rambling was a little over-the-top, sometimes. more often than not, he was shut down or left alone to wear out. he got used to it, even learned to control it just a bit. the rambling only made everyone around him annoyed or awkward, and he was inclined to avoid that.

he knew you were just looking attentive, but was glad you thought about his feelings. he felt comfortable rambling around you, knowing you'd smile, nod, and encourage him to continue.

so here he was, after work, leaning back on your thighs as he skimmed through the reports again. "and it's not even that their quirk is weak. not at all, actually. it's rather powerful considering they're fresh out of UA. i just think they've just never had a chance to get gear optimized for their abilities. for example, a device that would focus their wide-ranged quirk would greatly benefit them in close combat situations..."

"it'd probably help with collateral damage, too, huh?" you mused.

"exactly! besides—"

"your agency has more than enough resources to craft whatever device they need, and the time to train them with it." you smiled at the back of his head.

he put down the papers and slowly turned around, a suspicious look plastered on his face. "right..." he narrowed his eyes.

you fought a chuckle and brushed some of the curls from his face. "making them a great candidate for a sidekick." you couldn't help but smirk. "am i close?"

"you're..." izuku rose to his feet, leaning over you with hands firmly placed on either side of your body. "absolutely right!" his demeanor completely shifted as he withdrew from his position, pacing in front of you.

you chuckled. "why do you seem so surprised?"

"you were listening?!" he exclaimed, in honest shock, a huge grin on his face.

you smiled but your eyes read confusion. "of course, izu. i always listen when you talk." you thought he knew that??

"but—" he paused, trying to remember all the times he's rambled with you around. "why didn't you say anything?!"

you laughed, almost incredulous. guess he didn't know. he was so adorable it made you want to explode. "i did! you probably didn't hear me."

"oh my god." he whispered. perhaps he was just too enthralled in the topics to notice your contributions.

you got off the couch and pulled his arms from their thinking position to his sides. hand in hand, his thumb brushed over your knuckles as he sighed.

"i thought you were just pretending to pay attention." izuku smiled, his emerald eyes meeting yours. "you know, like everyone else."

you scoffed, crossing your arms in an over-dramatic show of offense. "well, i'm not everyone."

izuku's heart warmed at your words, manifesting in a grin that hurt his jaw. he enveloped you in a hug, crossed arms and all, pressing his cheek to yours and he cooed, "no. no, you're not."

you were his, and everyday there was something new that reminded him.

© miniimight ! thanks for reading <3

[goquokka00]

Hellooooo! Can I request bangchan x innocent!reader? Kind of like corruption kink, also, reader is a virgin. And can you pls pls pls add some overstimulation plss? Sending love 🩷🩷

Oh, definitely!!! Took me a bit to get actual good ideas and decide the flow and all that, but I think this one turned out really well. Hope it's what you were picturing 💗💗💗

Corruption

Summary: Chan was always aware of how innocent his step sister was. He was also aware of how good of a student she was, too. It always managed to feed into his imagination, and it didn't help that you were his ideal type. So imagine his surprise when he found the perfect blackmail to get his precious little sister to do whatever he wanted.

Pairing: Step Bro! Bangchan X Step Sis! Reader (F!)

Genre: Smut (MDNI!)

Warnings: Stepcest, Chan is manipulative, Reader is gullible, a little bit of bullying kinda? but they're step siblings so they're gonna pick on each other anyway, mentions of masturbation, nipple play, oral sex (f! receiving), fingering, dirty talk, p in v sex, unprotected penetrative sex (please wrap it before you tap it everyone), squirting, overstimulation, 100% 18+ (seriously like if you're a minor don't read pls and thank you <3)

Word Count: 5.3K

The first time Chan had ever met you was when his mom decided to have you and your dad over for dinner. At that point in time, your parents had been together for about a year and had finally deemed that it was time for you both to meet.

Now, Chan had been fully aware that his mom's boyfriend had a daughter. He knew that you were extremely kind and sweet, as his mom put it, and that you were a very good student. He had also found out that you were younger than him by about 6 years.

He was NOT warned about how beautiful you were. The second you had walked into his home, your crop top and very short shorts hugging your body in all of the right places, a sweatshirt tied around your waist as you took off your sandals and straightened your bangs out and tightened your ponytail...he already knew he was fucked.

You were the definition of his ideal type. A perky chest, curves, thick thighs...someone who was extremely kind and considerate, and wanted nothing more than to just help out where they could...god, you were perfect.

That night, during dinner, you paid attention to every detail him or his mom had said. What his interests were, what his mom liked in children, rules that they had in the household, and so much more. You took all of that information in and remembered it. Every question you were asked was answered with such...perfect answers.

How were your grades? All A's, with a few B's, but nothing too extreme.

What were you majoring in? No clue, you were just focusing on generals at a local community college until you figured out the career path you wanted to take.

What were some of your favorite hobbies? Writing, reading, drawing, sometimes even going on walks or going to the library to study on fascinating topics.

What chores did you usually do? Anything that had to be done, but you weren't a fan of doing the dishes because of the small bits of food that would touch your hand and scare the crap out of you.

You were like an angel from heaven. Even after dinner, when Chan and his mom were cleaning up, you offered to help dry dishes and tidy up a bit. It was unbelievable.

You were unbelievable.

Eventually, over the years, Chan got to know you better. And he got to understand that you were, in fact, innocent. You didn't know anything about sex, you didn't cuss, you went to church with your dad every Sunday at 9am, you've never done drugs or drank alcohol, and you had beliefs that prevented you from doing any wrong.

Upon finding this out, Chan realized something that stirred within him. He wanted to taint you. He wanted to corrupt you, make you the farthest thing from innocent. He fantasized about it, thinking up ideas on how he'd be able to get you to succumb to him. But he never acted on it.

But that feeling lingered. And it only got worse when your dad and his mom got married, which resulted in him and his mom moving in with you and your dad. Your house was bigger, anyway. It could easily fit the two of them.

But God, those feelings of wanting to corrupt you got so much worse. He was around you so much more often, seeing you do tasks so...seductively. And you weren't even trying to.

One time, the remote to the TV fell underneath the couch while you and him were watching an anime series. You had instantly got to the ground, got on all fours, and reached underneath the couch to grab the remote. And in the process, Chan got a whole view of your ass. Your perfect ass in those gym shorts, your pussy outlined just enough to give him ideas.

There was another time you had been doing laundry, and was just switching the loads around. Chan just happened to walk by when he saw you bent over in an oversized t-shirt, the only thing covering your cunt being your panties as you swapped loads.

What Chan wouldn't do to give you his.

It got to the point where Chan couldn't help but steal your panties when it was his turn to do the laundry and jerk off with it. It felt like the only way he'd ever get to even have you. Breathing in what your pussy could smell like, maybe even putting your panties in his mouth to try and get a taste...

It was getting bad. Chan knew he'd have to do something at this point. He had to get you, he had to have you. But how? You were perfect, you did no wrong. And you would NEVER just...do it because he wanted it.

Well, luckily for Chan, an opportunity presented itself.

See, you were in college. Both of you were, which was why both of you still lived at home. Better than the dorms, much better.

Because you were in college, you had to take a very important test for your major, known as the Literary Composition Exam, or the LCE. You had spent weeks studying for this test. You'd spend hours locked up in your room, going over every little bit of material that was available to you, doing whatever it took to make absolute certain that you passed.

Except...you didn't.

For whatever reason, when you went to take the exam, the material wasn't the same as the stuff you had studied. And so, while some of it was the same, you did your best to answer everything correctly.

But when you received the test today, you had seen that you had failed it. Miserably. Your heart sank, even as you took it out of your backpack once you got home. How were you supposed to tell your parents? You...you couldn't. You refused to share that with them.

You gently placed the test face down on your desk, putting a few papers over it before going to the bathroom. Maybe...maybe a warm shower would help melt that stress away.

But as you were taking a shower, Chan had gone into your room. It was his turn to do the laundry this week and was going and collecting all of the dirty clothing from each room. Your room was the last Chan had to go to, and then he could get all of the loads started.

But as he went to your closet, he noticed a paper underneath some others. It looked like all marked up, and he couldn't help but be curious. Weren't you supposed to get your results back for your LCE today?

Chan took that moment, reaching for the paper and sliding it out from under the others. Instantly, his eyes widened. This...this was your test. This was the test that you had spent weeks studying for, and you...you failed it. Chan couldn't believe his eyes as he grazed over all of the pen marks.

You, the perfect, most innocent daughter in your parents' eyes, had failed one of the most important tests that you'd ever have to take in your college career.

It was remarkable. Chan couldn't take his eyes off of it, looking at each question you had gotten wrong. There were so many...you usually aced every test that you ever took...EVER. Seeing how much you had gotten wrong was just insane.

And that...was when you walked back into your room.

You had changed into a sweatshirt and some gym shorts, your hair dried and in a ponytail. You had your dirty clothes in your hands, and had just wanted to lay down. But instead, you were met with the sight of Chan in your room, your failed LCE in his hands. Immediately, your heart dropped.

"Chan, what are you doing in my room?!" You were frantic, throwing your clothes to the side as you tried to reach for your test. But just before you could reach it, Chan held it out of your reach, raising a brow.

"Whoa, whoa, whoa, I just wanted to look your test over. It's pretty interesting." Chan spoke. He went back to it, flipping through the endless pages. "It's not every day I get to see that you managed to fail anything, let alone one of the most important tests in your entire college career."

"Chan!"

"What, I'm just saying." Chan shrugged, continuing to keep your test away from you. You weren't amused, going to him and reaching for it, practically climbing onto his body to try and get the test from him.

"This isn't funny, give that test back!"

"No way, this is legendary."

"Chan, seriously!"

"I'm being serious! I already said I want to look at it, why are you so desperate to get...it...back...oh my god." Suddenly, Chan realized something. It was why you were so desperate to get that test back. "You haven't told mom and dad yet."

"No, and I really don't want to." God, just the idea of your parents finding out that you had completely bombed the single most important test in your entire college career made you sick to your stomach. But Chan? Oh, this gave him leverage. Something to hang over your head, to potentially use against you.

It couldn't be more perfect.

"You're not going to tell them? Really?" Chan raised a brow, looking back to the test. It was only for a moment, before he looked back at you, a smirk on his face. "Then I guess I'll have to break the news to them-"

"NO!" It was one thing for you to have to tell your parents, but if Chan told them first...? Oh, it'd be hell on earth.

"Well, they can't not know, Y/n."

"Yes, they can! There's a retake next month, and I'll be extra sure to pass this time, just...they can't know!"

"I don't know...keeping things from our parents is so...wrong, don't you think?" Chan then turned, starting to go towards the door. "I'm going to go and show them this. Keeping secrets is bad."

"Chan, please no!" Like that, you were wrapping your arms around his torso, holding him there in an attempt to keep him from leaving your room. He couldn't leave, or he'd tell. "Please...I-I'll do anything."

Oh, you shouldn't have said that. You really shouldn't have said that.

Chan slowly turned, not believing his ears. For a moment, his dick twitched, slowly starting to betray him as he looked at you, your eyes shining and begging him to stay and not go. To not tell your parents. Was this finally it? Was he getting the chance he had craved for so long?

"...anything?"

"Anything." You confirmed it, right then and there. You were really willing to do anything in order to keep Chan from blabbing to your parents. This was it. This was finally what Chan had craved for forever.

And he couldn't wait.

"Well then, I guess we can figure something out, can't we?" Chan said, handing you your test. You quickly took it back, moving to hide it once more. And you were going to hide it even better than you had. "I'll keep my mouth shut up until you've retaken the test and pass. But you have to do something for me, too."

"Okay, and that is...?" You asked, turning around. You weren't sure what Chan had up his sleeve, but you had said you'd do anything to keep the horrible grades a secret. You always kept your promises too, which Chan was very aware of. And so, he'd have to be careful about how he went about this.

"See, I was asked by a friend to do some research on how to best please a girl." God, he sounded so stupid. He sounded completely and utterly stupid. "And while porn exists and yada yada yada, I want to make sure that all of the techniques actually work. And since you said you'd do anything to keep this whole test thing a secret, I was thinking you could help me out. A favor for a favor."

Please work, please work, please work, please work, please work, please-

"Um, well I guess when you put it that way...I wouldn't mind, I suppose..." You bought it. Holy fucking shit, you bought it. Chan couldn't even believe his ears. "But I've never really...done anything like it before, so I don't have a preference."

"Oh, well...that's okay. I was thinking that maybe we could give some stuff a shot. Y'know, field test a bit." Keep squeezing the orange, Chan. He was so close; he was practically salivating at this point. "Obviously if you get uncomfortable, we can stop, but I just really want to help out my friend, you know? And you would really help me out in return."

Well, if that was the case, then you could understand why Chan wanted your help so bad. You were like a fly caught in his web at this point. He was simply asking for your help, and you trusted him.

"I mean, if it'll help out, then I guess I don't see the problem in it." Bingo. Chan couldn't believe that had actually worked. He thought you would've called him gross, that step siblings shouldn't do that kind of stuff. Part of him wanted to question you, figure out if you were serious or not. But it was only a small one.

He worked hard for this. He wasn't just about to give it up.

"Alright, then do you think you could clear up some time tonight? That way we can have plenty of time." Reality? Your parents were both leaving to be out of town around 5pm. They wouldn't be back until a few days later.

"Oh, yeah. That makes sense." God, just how gullible were you? Gullible enough to make Chan's cock throb, it seemed.

All he had to do was wait.

||

It took about 3 whole hours for your parents to actually leave. And while they only left thirty minutes behind schedule, it felt like hell on earth for Chan. He wanted nothing more than to get into your panties, play with you for hours and make you writhe and squirm and cry.

Chan wanted to make absolutely certain that they wouldn't be in the house, though. If your parents found out about this, he'd be in a whole world of trouble. Both of you would be.

And so, he waited a whole extra hour, watching the Life360 that your parents had forced you both onto, making sure they were far enough away to where he knew they weren't going to turn around. And once he was sure, he walked to your room and knocked on the door, stepping inside.

"Hey, you got some free time?" Chan walked inside, seeing you laying on your bed. You were only in an oversized shirt, thigh high socks, and panties, scrolling through your phone. God, just the outline of your cunt got Chan riled all over again.

"Yeah, what's up?" You asked, turning. You were so adorable, it hurt. Chan stepped inside more, gently shutting the door before walking over to you, before sitting on your bed.

"I was wondering if we could start trying stuff out. Figure out what pleases you best." Chan said, watching your face light up as you remembered what he was talking about.

"Oh, okay. Sure." You said, moving to sit up. Chan smiled, moving a bit so you'd have some room. "What exactly are we starting with?"

"Well, I wanted to start with playing around with your breasts a bit. I've heard that feels nice." Chan said, his hands fidgeting with themselves. They wanted to be on your body so badly. Finally touch something that was so pure.

"Okay." The second you gave him permission, Chan's hands were on you. He started by cupping the flesh through the shirt, gently massaging them as he watched you closely. Your breathing had hitched, your eyes watching what he was doing. But it was when he looked back down that his blood ran down to his cock.

"You...you aren't wearing a bra...?" Chan couldn't believe his eyes. Your nipples were perked, practically poking themselves through the shirt you had on.

"Well, yeah. Bras aren't that comfortable, so..." You just shrugged, before gasping as Chan brushed over them. He moved his thumbs back and forth against them, moving to pinch them gently. That got a whine out of you, and it was such a beautiful sound.

"Jesus...that feels nice?" Chan asked, watching you nod. That was good, and to him, an indication to go further. He carefully moved your shirt up, taking it off to see your bare chest in all of it's glory.

It was gorgeous. Nipples perky and stiff, your flesh round and supple. It was everything Chan could've wanted plus more. And when he touched your skin, it was so soft... it was soft and delicate and so perfect.

Every time his fingers flicked, pinched or messed with your nipples, you'd whine and squirm a bit, the sight always going straight to his dick. He was so hard, he wanted nothing more than to just flip you over and fuck you right then and there. But he wanted to take his time, too.

And that's what he did.

He moved his head down, eventually taking one of your breasts into his mouth, using his tongue to flick against your nipple and sucking on your skin. The feeling of it caused you to moan, arching your back into him more.

"Ch-Chan..." Oh, you moaning his name made him want to scream. He was so hard, you were so perfect, everything about this situation was perfect.

He eventually pulled off, looking up at you as he continued to mess around with your chest, giving you a cheeky smile. He knew what he was doing felt good.

"Good?"

"M-Mhm..."

"Mhm?" Chan couldn't help but laugh a bit, finding your reaction adorable. But he wanted to take things further. Just a little bit. "Can we go further? Want me to make you feel even better?"

"Ye...Yeah...Yes..."

"Alright...go ahead and lay down then."

As you laid down, Chan was finally able to see your panties for the first time. They were pink with white paw prints, a tiny little white bow on the front. They were so cute on you, practically signaling how innocent you truly were. And when Chan got himself between your legs, spreading your legs apart, he noticed the wet patch laying right over your cunt.

"Look at that...already so wet, and it's all for me..." Chan licked his lips, taking a hand off of your leg to your clothed pussy. Slowly, agonizingly so, he placed his pointer right where your clit should be, bringing it down to your hole. It was feather light, and it caused you to whine and squirm. "That feel nice? I bet it does, you're getting wetter by the second."

He wasn't wrong, unfortunately. That wet spot got bigger the more he spoke, the more he barely touched you. It was agonizing, yeah, but god, it was amazing, too.

Chan admired it for a moment. One of the many panties he'd steal were right here on your body, forming one of the largest wet patches he'd ever seen in his life. It was wrong. But god, did he not care. He didn't care in the slightest.

He eventually leaned his head down, pressing a kiss right onto your mound, breathing in your smell. Musky, but so so sweet. And once that was committed to memory, he figured it was time to get rid of the panties and see the real thing.

"Let's get these off of you, huh?" Chan's hands moved as he spoke, hooking around your panties and bringing them down your body, his eyes not leaving yours once until the panties were completely off. And the second he saw you, his everything stopped. His brain, his heart...the only thing that was working was his dick, and that thing was throbbing.

You were beautiful. It was the cutest little pussy Chan had ever seen in his life, glistening wet. And when he spread your folds open, he was met with a pink that rivaled the panties you had on. Not to mention how your hole was clenching, and your clit was peeking out from under it's hood.

"God...you're so fucking beautiful." Chan couldn't even take his eyes off of you. He took his finger again, gently touching the pink muscle, touching your clit and pulling it back to get a better look. It made you squirm, your hole clenching. "You have such a pretty pussy...and to think it's on my step sister..."

All you did was whine, not really knowing what to say. The touch felt nice, but his words were nicer. You'd never heard him talk like that before. And the pit that grew in your stomach when you heard it was beyond amazing.

Chan took a moment to continue just touching you, watching how you'd react to certain touches, where you liked to be touched. But he knew he could do more. He could do so much more.

And so, keeping his eyes on you, he lowered his head and gently flicked your clit once, watching as your breath hitched, your hips flinch a bit.

"That feel good?" Chan asked. He already knew the answer, and it was only further confirmed by you nodding.

With that nod, he went back down, using his tongue to give one long lick up your folds, before flicking your clit and coaxing it out of it's hood, gently suckling on the small bundle of nerves. That got a nice, loud moan out of you.

"Oh my...god, Chan...!" Oh, the way you said his name in such a vulnerable way...it was absolutely delicious. It made Chan groan, his hips bucking into the bed.

His pattern was immaculate. He'd suck on your clit, using his tongue to tease it in the meantime while his hands went to spread your cunt apart. He wanted to make sure that you were nice and vulnerable so he could really get in there. And oh, the moans you rewarded him with. They were absolutely perfect.

Your taste was even better. Salty, sweet, just a tiny bit of tang but not too much...It made him realize more and more just how much he craved you, how much he just wanted to ruin you into nothing.

Eventually, he went further, diving his tongue into your hole to really scrape out your juices, his nose consistently bumping into your clit. And it made you cry out, your legs wanting to close, feeling yourself get closer and closer to the edge. But Chan didn't let you. He gave your cunt one last lick before moving his hands to keep you spread once more, before looking up at you, licking his lips.

"Keep yourself spread, okay? I want you nice and wide so I can taste all of you." Chan spoke. You couldn't help but nod, feeling the need to comment.

"I...It feels really good, by the way. Whatever you're doing it...it feels really, really good."

"Does it?"

"Yeah..."

"Yeah?" Oh, the smile on Chan's face when you said that. You probably gave him that input so he knew this was good for his friend to know. But he wasn't here for that. No no no. He was here simply to get you to cum over, and over, until you couldn't take anymore.

He eventually dove back in, plunging his tongue into you while his arms and hands kept you nice and spread, not wanting you to squirm around too much. And he kept going, even as you began to buck your hips, trying to squirm and get away.

"Chan, I...I feel weird..." You could feel the coil in your gut, a form of tightness as you neared closer and closer. Chan could feel it too, as your legs were really starting to shake.

"It's okay, you're just gonna hit an orgasm soon." Chan's voice was muffled, due to his face being buried in your delicate cunt, which was dripping more and more of it's juices into his mouth. "Get there though, go ahead and just release it, okay? Can you do that for me?"

You could, and you did. You moaned out, your hips bucking as Chan practically latched himself onto you. He continued to work you through your orgasm, watching as you panted and shook, the orgasm washing right through you.

"There you go, good girl..." Once you had calmed down, Chan debated on moving on. He could let you experience his cock, which had been painfully throbbing to get into the pussy it's been wanting for so long. Or he could simply keep going with this.

That's what he did.

The second you stopped squirming, he latched right back onto your clit, making your squirm from the oversensitivity, feeling something new. Something different. You couldn't look down, as your back was arched and your head was thrown back, in nothing but pure ecstasy, but the second you felt something inside of you, you gasped, before getting louder.

You didn't know what it was, as Chan's head hadn't moved at all. But Chan knew. He had slipped a finger inside of you, and he groaned once he felt just how tight you were. He knew you were going to be tight, but he didn't expect what he had felt.

"God, you're so tight...how are you ever supposed to fit any cock in there, huh?" Chan pulled back, watching as you took his finger, Chan adding another one to watch you really grip it. "You're practically sucking in my fingers...does it feel that good? Are you that needy?"

All you could do was moan as Chan plunged his fingers deep into you, eventually curling them up and rubbing that gummy spot. It only took two small movements with his hands for you to cum again, your body shaking once more as your back arched again.

"Oh, you're so pretty when you cum like that, sis...look at you, squirming around for me and everything..." Chan couldn't take it anymore. If he didn't put himself inside of you, Chan would go insane.

And so, he pulled himself back, moving to get his cock out of his pants. The poor thing was red tipped, angry. It was harder than Chan had ever seen himself. But it didn't stop him from lining himself up with your entrance. Hell, it encouraged him to do so.

"You're being so good, letting me figure out what feels best for a girl. You're such an amazing little sister, helping me out with this, all because you don't want our parents to know about some silly little test grades..." As Chan spoke, he rubbed his tip against your cunt, coating himself with your juices as you whined and squirmed, the pleasure already too much for you.

But then, Chan pushed in. And both of you moaned out. For you, it was the stretch. He felt amazing when he went inside and stretched you out. And him? You were so tight, practically hugging his cock inside of you, gripping onto him for dear life.

"Jesus christ, you're like a fucking vice, squeezing me like that..." Chan eventually began to move, thrusting in and out. He was slow at first, knowing that this was your first time, and that you hadn't taken dick before.

But from the way you were moaning, he could tell you liked it. And so he sped up. He moved quicker, harsher. And you couldn't help but moan, feeling him move so quickly nonstop, not taking any breaks to catch his breath. All you could do was cry out, feeling him practically pound into you.

It was when Chan lifted up your leg when you felt him reach that gummy spot again, hitting it every single time without fail. And that got you to cum for the third time.

"C-CHAN!"

Your body shook as Chan stopped, quickly spitting on his hand to go and rub tight circles on your clit to help you through the orgasm, watching as your body shook and writhed from the pleasure. But this time, he didn't wait for you to calm down. No, after a few seconds, he started up again, grunting as he felt your walls flutter around him while he moved.

"God, you feel so good around me, squeezing me while you're cumming...my dick is just that good, huh? Does that feel good?" Chan asked, continuing to harshly thrust as he rubbed tight circles around your clit.

You simply whimpered, your hips bucking with every movement. It's like you couldn't control yourself anymore. Everything Chan was doing was incredible. You didn't know how, or why, but...it was amazing. It was overloading your brain. You felt so good, too good.

And before you even knew it, the fourth orgasm hit. And it hit hard.

At this point, you were so wet from all of the other orgasms and Chan's saliva that Chan slipped out, accidentally pulling out too much as your body trembled. And that was when it happened. You felt a new sensation, almost like a liquid was shooting out of you, and onto wherever it was landing.

You don't know, you couldn't think. But Chan knew, because it landed on him. Just seeing that made him groan as he stroked himself.

"Mm, you just squirted everywhere....making a fucking mess because my dick is just that good, yeah?" Once you had stopped, Chan was back inside of you, almost relentless at this point.

He just couldn't handle it. Seeing you squirt on him, on his cock, something that was so wrong and foul...it made him feral. He just couldn't believe it. He was surprised he didn't just cum from watching you do that.

But you...oh, you were so overwhelmed. So overstimulated. Everything felt way too good, and you were completely lost within the pleasure to even know what was happening. It was way too much, and your body was well aware of that.

"S'too much, I can't....! I can't, Chan, I...too much...!" It's all you were chanting at this point.

But Chan...he was finally getting the fantasy he had thought up for so long. Finally, you were here underneath him, absolutely wrecked and overstimulated, tears going down your cheeks from the overwhelming amount of pleasure he was bringing you.

"Give me one more...just one more, sis...please? You can do one more, I'll even go with you this time...please, just one more." At this point, he was getting desperate, too. But all you could do was shake your head, completely overwhelmed by the sheer amount of pleasure coursing into your body.

"I can't-"

"You can, I promise...I know you can, just one more..."

Before he even knew it, you came for the last time, screaming out his name from the sheer bliss. And this time, your walls fluttering around him was what did him in. He just groaned loudly as he filled you, still pumping into you as he rode both of your highs out.

Once he had come down from his high, he simply pulled out, flopping down next to you, pulling your shaking form next to him, both of you breathing heavily. Nothing was said, and nothing had to be said.

All that was known was that this definitely wouldn't be the first time this would end up happening.

Hey! Firstly, thank you so much for reading this post, and I really hope you enjoyed! If you did, please like, reblog, or comment so I can see how I'm doing with writing and getting feedback! I hope you have a lovely day! Sleep well, stay in good health, and eat something if you haven't! ❤️❤️❤️

Taglist: @miss-daisy04 @kayleefriedchicken @wolfs-archive @stayyyyyyyyyyyy21 @wolfs-howling @rose-w-00-d

[thatfandomslut]

Soft For You

Regina George x Reader

Word Count: 1.3k

Trigger Warning: heart palpitating fluff- be safe out there. There is also mentions of bullying towards the reader in this fic, brief moment of feeling claustrophobic, feelings of insecurity.

Request:

Do you think you could do a fic where Regina is the Queen B and everything but y/n is her soft spot

Mean Girls requests are open.

In the dictionary, if someone located the name 'Regina George,' they might read 'the biggest HBIC to ever grace the halls of North Shore High School.' Regina was stone cold with icy blue eyes to match her rigid exterior. She didn't care if she hurt someone's feelings, nor did she care who anyone was at North High unless they were Gretchen, Karen, Cady, or the only person who was allowed to see her complex side, (Y/n). (Y/n) was the human personification of ADHD, and she somehow managed to catch the attention and affection of the school's ice queen, Regina.

If someone were to look at (Y/n) with any hint of a funny expression, Regina was telling them off. She felt like (Y/n) needed her protection. So, she was there to offer it, even when (Y/n) didn't ask. (Y/n) also didn't mind Regina defending her if someone said something mean to her as she was not a confrontational person. She tried to stay on everyone's good side, but sadly that task was easier said than done because somehow, (Y/n) seemed to have gotten on the wrong side of the girl's soccer captain, Tammy Schneider.

They were in their shared English class when the two got paired up, and Tammy seemed less than pleased with the idea. (Y/n) didn't understand why, so she tried to start on their writing assignment, but Tammy wasn't responding to her well. "I'm sorry, but have I done something to offend you? I'm just trying to get this assignment done." (Y/n) tapped the pencil in her hand on her brainstorming paper as she tried to figure the girl out. She wasn't too sure what she might've done to Tammy since the two had never had a real conversation before.

Tammy shrugged with narrowed eyes, causing (Y/n)'s frown to deepen. "I just personally think you're nothing special. Regina George parades you around like you're made of gold, but for what? Your only prospects are English and History. Your looks are mediocre, nothing like the other Plastics." Tammy commented with her nose in the air. (Y/n) was surprised by the girl's answer. She had already been insecure over topics such as these, but no one was brave enough to talk to her the way Tammy had. "But, whatever, Regina can date a loser, but many of us are still confused as to why." She said simply, ignoring the hurt on (Y/n)'s face as the girl stared at her paper.

(Y/n) was thankful for the bell ringing, dismissing her from the class. Usually, she'd wait for Gretchen, who shared that class with her. Today, she had gathered up her papers, stuffed them into her bag, and escaped the room she was starting to feel claustrophobic in. Swallowing thickly as she made her way into the bathroom she went to the sink to splash some water on her face. She had to calm herself down before she met with the other girls during lunch. She couldn't cry, or her eyes would be puffy, and Regina would know something was off. (Y/n) breathed in deeply hearing the ping in her bag that alerted her to a new message.

'Hey, where did you go? Are we just meeting in the cafeteria?'

(Y/n) rubbed at the eye that was watering before responding to Gretchen, apologizing for leaving so abruptly. She made up an excuse of leaving an item in another classroom before confirming that they would meet in the cafeteria. (Y/n) adjusted her cardigan before removing then reapplying some of the makeup she had damaged when she had initially teared up. Her cheeks were still a bit flushed, but she could use the excuse of running to another classroom for that. (Y/n) finally deemed her appearance significant enough to leave the restroom before heading to meet Regina, Gretchen, Karen, and Cady for lunch.

"Hey, princess," (Y/n) greeted Regina first, placing a soft kiss on Regina's temple. She felt dumb doing that now. Regina probably secretly felt disgusted after feeling her lips on anywhere on her face. Due to that sudden thought, she felt queasy and lost her appetite. Still, she made sure to eat, knowing that it was important to keep her energy up. After all, she had softball after school and she needed all the energy she could get so she could pretend Tammy was the yellow ball hurtling toward her that she smacked into the outfield. "Hey, Gretchen, Karen, Cady."

Regina recognized the tremble in her voice as she examined her girlfriend's body language. She didn't want to say anything in front of the other girls, though. She didn't know if this was a private feeling, or if she'd rather share. So, she ultimately decided to ask her after lunch to provide a safe space for (Y/n) to communicate her feelings.

"Will you walk me to my car after you eat? I think I've left something in there, and I don't want to go alone." Regina inquired casually. She didn't want to draw any attention to the situation. She knew how observant Gretchen was. It was one of the reasons she actually appreciated Gretchen as a friend, even if she struggled to show it. When (Y/n) smiled, biting into her sandwich, Regina grinned. "Perfect! Thank you, baby girl."

Gretchen made a little thoughtful noise. "Everyone is forgetting something today. Just before lunch, (Y/n) left something in her last class period." She spoke thoughtfully, causing (Y/n) and Regina to look over. Sometimes, Gretchen was too observant for her own good. This was the best example of that. Sometimes, with how observant she was, she tended to make comments that made those she was observing hoping she would stop connecting dots. Like, now, for example,

Regina and (Y/n) left the table shortly after, when (Y/n) finished her lunch. "What's on your mind?" Regina questioned when they made to their Jeep, away from everyone in the cafeteria. Not many people hung out in the parking lots during lunch. "You look upset about something, and I want to be here for you," Regina spoke softly as she cupped her cheek gently.

This seemed to be what broke whatever dam (Y/n) had put into place. Her eyes instantly watered, and Regina quickly took her into her arms. "Tammy Schneider implied that I wasn't good enough for the Plastics and you." She admitted, trying to stop herself from crying. She felt pathetic and insecure, despite Regina's caring hold on her as she cried in her shoulder. She hated feeling less than, and she constantly worked on not feeling this way, but sometimes it only took a few mean comments to send her down a rabbit hole.

Regina had stiffened at the realization of someone being mean to (Y/n). Pulling away, she used her thumbs to gently wipe away the cascading tears on (Y/n)'s cheeks. "You need to listen to me, okay?" She waited to see (Y/n) nod as she sniffled under Regina's touch. "You need to know that I have never felt the way I feel about you for anyone else. You mean the world to me. You're kind, strong, and smart. I enjoy how you can talk about anything and everything. I am so soft for you that it's completely altered my personality. I am a better person when I'm with you. With that said, I will be grinding Tammy into sand." Regina stated, fire in her eyes as she kissed (Y/n)'s forehead.

(Y/n) smiled a bit, leaning into Regina's touch, her ever-looming insecurity lifting. "You make me a better person, too, Regina. Thank you for making me feel better. I don't think grinding Tammy into sand will make the situation better though." (Y/n) admitted, even if a small part of her would pay to see Tammy even attempt to step up to Regina's plate.

There was a small smirk that played on Regina's lips. "It'd make me feel better. And judging your little smile, you're not too opposed to that idea." Regina teased as (Y/n) laughed, nudging the girl gently. "Maybe I'm not too opposed," (Y/n) admitted, before kissing Regina softly. Regina kissed back happily, already plotting Tammy's demise.

[mimi-cee-genshin]

A Slight of Hand Makes Colour - Lyney x f!reader

Summary: You think Lyney hates you. He's never used his charm on you. Lynette's response? If you look behind his ear, just under the stands of his hair, the answer will magically appear. (A cute and heartwarming getting together fic that I hope will make you smile.)

Other info: fluff, cute, some hurt/comfort, some pining, family, getting together, yes I know it's "sleight of hand", 2.5k words

*****

"Does Lyney hate me?"

You sat in front of the cafe with Lynette, enjoying a late night drink, and typically you'd be enjoying the silence and scenery together. But your thoughts slipped out of your mouth before you could snatch them back, ruining the peaceful moment you were having.

"Forget what I said," you said, eyes darting back to your drink.

Lynette placed her cup down and put a new cake slice on her plate. "Why do you ask?" she said with no hint of shock on her face.

"No. It was a stupid question." You took a sip, hoping she'd drop the topic.

"I see… Have you finally begun to wonder why Lyney has never used his charm on you?" she asked.

Your drink went down your throat the wrong way and you began to cough. "How did you know?" you asked, a little embarrassed.

"I could tell from how you were eyeing him as he welcomed our newest guest," she explained.

Nothing got past Lynette. You knew better than to try to hide anything from her. You'd often wondered if her greatest talent was actually reading minds.

She was right. You had never noticed the slight difference in Lyney's behavior towards you, even though you had known the twins for a long time now. He had always treated you with care and respect, but lately, you felt ill whenever he showered others with his suave words. You used to be happy just to see him smile.

You sighed, knowing exactly why you felt this way. You just didn't want to admit it.

"I think it's the right time to tell you this," Lynette said.

"Hm?" you asked. "Tell me what?"

"There's a reason why Lyney acts differently around you," she said.

You raised your brow, but you placed your cup down anyway and to listen for her next words.

"I'll give you a hint," she said. "If you look behind his ear, just under his strands of hair, you might figure out why he treats you this way."

What? It was always hard to tell what Lynette was thinking because of the lack of emotion on her face. But even if she'd crack a joke once in a while, she wouldn't do so when you had a genuine concern.

Lynette took another sip of her cup and returned back to standby mode, drifting somewhere within the stars.

You weren't sure what to make of her comment

*****

It was four in the afternoon and the workshop needed to be cleaned before you could start any work. You took the vacuum, which Lynette fortunately didn't break yet, and removed the sawdust on the floor from this morning.

Next, you wiped down the workshop's two-way mirror, knowing Lyney would need it to test another trick today. The majority of the cleaning fell on you, which you didn't mind. You used to be a maid after all – a maid to a cold and cruel mistress. You had never expected to see the twins again after her downfall.

Lyney walked to the entrance after the doorbell had rung and greeted the lady here for a delivery. You smiled as he chatted up a storm with her, always happy to meet new people, and he even added a magic trick to top it off.

"And that concludes today's mini show," he said, returning his hat on his head. "With your lovely shirt and trousers, I hope to see your excellent style at my next performance."

Ah. Another compliment, another knot in your stomach.

At the door, Lyney received the package which reached just above his eyes when he carried it. You placed your rag down and got the other package that was left at the front door.

"Thank you, Y/n," he said with a smile.

It was a short and simple statement of appreciation, which you typically didn't mind. Yet, he didn't say, 'Thank you. Whatever would I do without you.' Nor did he say, 'You're just as reliable as always. Why, I must ensure that you never leave us!' You'd often hear these words when he talked to your co-workers.

But not with you.

You placed the package on the table beside the retrofitted vase and the room went quiet. The two of you typically didn't mind a comfortable silence, but today felt different. You went on with your work anyway, cleaning up the scraps on the work table as Lyney worked at his desk. He didn't even hum a tune as he usually did when the others were around. It was only silent with you.

You sighed, thinking you would've noticed earlier if you were as observant as Lynette. You weren't sure if the subtle difference in behavior was something you should be concerned about.

Once you were done cleaning, you peeked over Lyney's shoulder as he sketched out a mechanism he'd need for a trick. He smiled at you and pointed to the drawing, explaining to you how the system worked.

"But if I place this gear here, its axel would obstruct the door of the hidden compartment," he told you. "I'm not really sure how to solve this one."

"I see…" you said, pulling out a stool beside him. "You said the axel needs to be at least an inch long... Could you add a slot for it on the door itself?"

He placed his pencil's end on his cheek. "That could work since it's hidden anyway," he said.

He continued to alternate between thinking and drawing, often erasing his paper and even getting another sheet to redraw it. You had always admired the work he put into his shows. You enjoyed watching him passionate about his craft.

"If you look behind his ear, just under his strands of hair, you might figure out why he treats you this way," Lynette had said.

You lifted your hand up to brush his hair away from his right ear.

Lyney's pencil stopped moving and his hand was frozen in place. "W-what are you doing, Y/n?"

You were right. There was nothing there. You didn't expect anything, but you thought maybe there could've been a secret magic trick the twins set up for you. There was nothing of that sort.

And then you saw it.

"Lyney, why is your ear…"

His hand rushed to cover his ear. "I-It just turns red sometimes. That's all," he explained. "It's unfortunate that most of my tricks are done at a distance, so I don't have any plans to create tricks that involve me turning red."

"What are you even talking about–"

His hand… He was tapping his finger and counting down from five. Lyney would only do this to activate his 'performance mode', when he needed to calm his nerves.

"Lyney, is there something wrong–"

"Oh, would you look at the time... The sun is about to set," he said, leaving his chair.

"Lyney, wait!"

Crash!

The pieces from the broken vase were scattered next to your knees and under the table. Memories flooded back of your mistress's twisted scowl and piercing eyes, and you quickly bowed your head and apologized. Your breathing became shallow and your eyes didn't leave the floor.

A fan of cards appeared in front of your face.

"Now you see them, and now you…"–he pulled the cards together–"Hey, hold on a moment, why didn't the vase disappear?" Lyney said before sighing. "I guess we'll have to do it the old fashioned way."

You looked up to see Lyney's smile and outstretched hand.

"Would you like to be my assistant for today?"

You had never forgotten how you first met Lyney. Two magicians on a secret mission and your mistress and her husband had a lot to hide. And yet, Lyney had taken the time to redirect your mistress's anger and given you a hand, just like he was doing now.

You took his hand and stood to your feet, not once leaving your eyes from his.

"Now, where were… uh…" he said, breaking eye contact. He released his grip from you hand, but you held him even tighter. "You're not going to let go, are you?" he said, running his hand on the back of his neck.

"No," you said. "I'm not."

You wanted an answer. You wanted to hear it – that this man in front of you was attracted to you. A wonderful magician who won you over not only because of his magic tricks and charisma, but also because of his kindness, hard work, and love for his siblings. And yet this same person whom you admired all this time had the tips of his ears burning red at your gentle touch.

"Lyney…" you managed to say. "Do you like me?"

He sighed and laughed a little. "I guess the cat's out of the bag. There isn't a way for me to escape out of this one, is there?"

You shook your head.

He gave you a gentle smile. "Do you remember our second meeting?" he said. "When you showed up at our rendezvous point?"

Panic had covered his face when he saw you instead of Lynette, his posture revealing he wouldn't hesitate to attack you if you had harmed her in any way. You had to quickly explain how you hid Lynette in a storage room after she almost blew her cover.

"You had come up with a detailed plan that helped Lynette escape and sacrificed your own food for her as she hid. And you did all of this while you were terrified of your mistress. How could I not have fallen for you then and there?"

You had never realized that Lynette noticed you gave her your food. You would've done it for anyone, knowing what the punishment would've been if she was caught.

"Anyway, that's the story of my one-sided love. We should really fix up the vase that had fallen earlier," he said, quickly returning to the scattered pieces.

"Lyney, but…"

"Be careful now, or you might get hurt. I wouldn't want to see any tears on that beautiful face of yours–" His eyes saw the mirror behind you before he covered his face. "Um… pretend you didn't see that."

You grabbed his face and pulled it back, observing his red blush up close.

"Uh…" he said, eyes darting away. "What are you doing–"

"You know, I wondered why you never used your smooth words on me," you told him. "Why did you hide it?"

He took your hands from his face and placed them back by your sides. "Nothing good would come out of it," he said with a sigh. "Especially with my association with the Fatui."

"And what if I want to take the risk?" you said, still clinging onto his hand.

"What?"

"You've always meant a lot to me Lyney, even before my feelings turned romantic," you told him. "I've taken risks for you before. And I'm willing to do it again."

He lifted his other hand to fix a strand of hair on your head, gently pushing it back and getting a better look at your face. "You shouldn't do that to yourself, Y/n. You deserve more than that."

"We can work together," you said. "Just like we always have."

He pulled his hand out of your grip. "I… I can't," he told you. "I can't do it. How…" His voice wavered as he turned away from you. "How can I take care of you too?"

A door clicked open and you turned to look behind you. Lynette had walked into the workshop from the other room.

"Oh…" Lyney looked at her with a nervous smile. "Did you see all of that?"

Lynette pointed to the two-way mirror. You wouldn't be surprised if she heard the whole conversation.

"Lyney," she said. "Do you remember when we jumped off the cliff, and you shielded my fall before going unconscious?"

"What?" he said, turning towards her. "How could I forget? That was the day you received your vision."

Lynette placed her hand on her chest. "You've taken care of me so much for as long as I could remember," she said. "But I love you too and care dearly for Y/n as well. So if any issues arise because of your relationship with her, let me help. I'll protect you."

"I…" Lyney lowered his eyes.

"I'll be alright, because as always…" she began.

"... Lynette is by my side," Lyney finished. Yet his shoulders sagged. "I… I don't know Lynette. What if something goes horribly wrong? I don't want Y/n to take the fall too."

"Don't worry," she told him, shaking her head. "I've already gotten some ideas to get you two out of any sticky situation. Keep it a secret as long as possible and I'll prepare for any contingency plans for whatever comes up."

"I'm still not so sure…" he said.

"Both of you are also discreet and know how to keep secrets," she continued. "The rest of the family would be excited and 'Father' would be fine with it as long as she doesn't hinder any missions. We both know that won't be a problem."

You stared at Lynette, amazed she thought all of this through. She really wanted this to work out, wanted us to work out.

Lyney placed his hand on his chin and thought for a long while. Both you and Lynette gave him a chance to think and didn't mind the silence he needed.

"So what's your plan?" he finally asked.

"For now, the biggest issue is that Lyney needs to figure out how to stop blushing." Lynette turned to you. "I figured that giving you the hint would get Lyney the help he needed with that."

"You gave her a hint?" exclaimed Lyney. "About my blushing? Lynette… I told you to keep it a secret."

"It was going to show sooner or later," she said. "Better here in the workshop than in public."

"Oh Lynette…" Lyney whined. "I can't believe you were the one who started this."

The tips of your mouth tugged back into a grin, seeing Lyney's arms relax a little. "So is that all he needs to do?" you asked. "Just stop blushing?"

"It's not that easy," Lyney said, a bit embarrassed. "Which was why I've been cautious with my words around you."

"Then why don't you practice now?" you said with a smile.

"What?"

"Practice flirting me until you can stop going red."

"I… uh…"

"What? Is the great magician who's a master at winning hearts actually at a loss for words?" you teased.

"I can't help it. You leave me breathless," he whined, sounding more like a complaint than a flirty remark. Yet his face turned red once again. He looked up at the two way mirror behind you and covered his face with both hands. "Okay, I need help," he said through his fingers.

"Keep practicing on me," you said with a smile.

"Can't we start tomorrow?"

"Nope. You need to make up for all the times I got jealous."

"You got jealous?"

You giggled as you scooped up his hand. "Of course I did. I just wish Lynette had given me the hint earlier."

*****

I hope you liked it. Please check out my other fics if you're interested. :)

[dukeofankh]

Trying to find progressive masculine community is so exhausting.

I've flipped through local men's groups, trying to find places to explore masculinity in a chill, progressive setting. First of all, they mostly seem to be modelled after AA, and like, my gender isn't a debilitating addiction, it's part of my identity actually, but also, the invite and description of the event have maybe a short paragraph tops actually waving vaguely in the direction of what the purpose of the group is, and then ten to twenty paragraphs breaking down the rules. One spent longer talking about the hand signals he would use to direct conversation than he did describing what the conversation would be about. Another had a full paragraph explaining that if the group thought you were evading what they thought your "real" problem was, they'd probably "call you to take accountability". Like...I don't even know who these people are yet and they're already letting me know that they view it as their right, no, their duty, to bully me into seeing things their way. Like, this is in the invite.

...and this warning is there instead of any sort of breakdown of like, I dunno. Whether you should be a feminist to show up. Whether it was a safe space for queer men. What the hell they wanted to talk about. Joining a men's space is on some level inherently submitting yourself to the authority of the leaders of that group, and you don't usually get a particularly clear breakdown of what the values and goals of those leaders are, because on some level the answer is always going to be "whatever I want"

And like, unfortunately you do need to filter men to build a men's space. You do need to remove or chastise men who act in ways that are toxic or disruptive or misogynistic. If you don't things turn into an MRA chapter pretty quick. But the sort of emergency powers that leadership takes on as a result of that...just kind of naturally end up reproducing masculine heirarchies.

MensLib, the only online community of progressive dudes talking about masculinity that I'm aware of, is...on Reddit. So there is a moderator system. In theory, a moderator is there to...moderate. This is a space where people are going to be talking, and mods are there to make sure things don't get too toxic or off topic.

The issue is that, on some level, that is technically a leadership position. In a sub trying to rehabilitate masculinity. So you've got a bunch of folks who view themselves as the leaders of this bastion of goodness standing against the depredations of the misogynistic internet, guiding the hapless smooth-brain neophytes towards The True Way.

In practice, this looks like 95 percent of the posts submitted for the subreddit being rejected. That isn't hyperbole. On average, the sub has about one new post per day. Almost all posts directly relating a personal experience are deleted immediately, in favour of articles written about masculinity in traditional media publications, which are considered more trustworthy than the sus lived experiences of the guys in the sub. The post I wrote here about the effect of purity culture on male sexual shame that's sitting at about 15K notes was based on a 10K word post I wrote for Reddit that was deleted because "I didn't cite any sources to prove that there is a link between purity culture and male sexual shame, or that my experience was anything more than anecdotal". I get comments deleted on a regular basis, and after paragraphs of protesting in modmail that my comments are both fully in line with feminism and not against the rules, the mods have just finally told me that the rules don't actually drive their actions as a team. They delete anything they feel leads the conversation in a direction they personally feel is unproductive. The rule cited at the time of deletion is really just the broad category of why they decided to hit the button that says nobody is allowed to read what I wrote.

The issue is kind of twofold. First of all, progressive men do not trust other men. A good dude knows that he, individually, is a good person, but literally any other man external to him is on thin ice. Do you really want to tie your wagon to that guy? Do you trust him, really? How do you tell the difference between a guy criticizing an article because it's factually incorrect and criticising it because a woman wrote it? Probably best to play it safe and delete it. Weight of the odds, he's probably a misogynist, right? This is the internet.

And thats the other half of it. If you view yourself as part of the leadership of The Good Guys, and you're getting hatemail from incels and facists all day, you get to the point where most of the time people challenge your authority it's because they're a terrible person. It is very, very easy to get to the point where someone challenging you is seen as evidence that they are a bad person. And now someone is challenging you (and therefore bad), in an environment where you are in charge, and you have a "make your opponent disappear" button.

I know. A Reddit mod was rude to me and now I'm butthurt. It's petty and stupid. I'm just feeling like there's nowhere else to really go, and I'm pretty despondent that literally every space I've seen that even looks like it might be for progressive men has the same deeply hierarchical structure and constant status-oriented squabbling as patriarchal spaces.