#( leave a little sparkle wherever you go | interaction. )

[venus-haze]

Watch Honey Drip, Can't Keep Away (Soldier Boy x Reader)

Summary: America’s golden son can't keep his eyes off of you, almost like he wants to devour you whole...or something like that.

Note: Female reader, but no descriptors are used. This is kind of in the same universe as She’s Out To Please, She Pouts Her Best. I know generally men in the ‘40s, let alone Soldier Boy of all people, wouldn’t really consider going down on a woman, but it’s my fic and I get to decide he eats out. Do not interact if you’re under 18 or post thinspo/ED content.

Word count: 2k

Warnings: Period typical misogyny, power imbalance. Explicit sexual content involving masturbation and oral sex (f. receiving). Do not interact if you’re under 18.

“Which city are we going to next?” you asked, finally comfortable in the swanky hotel room in Chicago you were roomed in with three other girls from the troupe. Soldier Boy’s Sparkling Sweethearts. People came from miles around to show their patriotism–and get a look-see at the acts. If it weren’t Soldier Boy, it was you and the other Sweethearts. Something for everyone, really. Even in places like–

“Wichita.”

A collective groan filled the space, littered with makeup and dresses that’d inevitably shoved into suitcases in a hurry the moment of checkout. There were more important things to worry about than being organized.

“Better than wherever the hell we were last week. Couldn’t get enough of us on Saturday, and then nearly ran us out with pitchforks after the preacher was through with them Sunday morning.”

“I’m going down to the bar while we’re still in a hotel that has one,” you said. “I’ll be back later.”

“Not if Soldier Boy’s there.” A giggle tore through the room. “Did you see him earlier? He looked like he could eat you alive.”

You weren’t even supposed to have been up there with Soldier Boy during his act, a routine that showed off his powers and preceded his usual rousing speech to get the American public to open their hearts and wallets to the war bonds drive. But Darla had broken her leg while ice skating on a day off in Milwaukee, and Soldier Boy had specifically asked for you to fill her spot.

Your role involved memorizing a few lines from a script and looking pretty while Soldier Boy understandably took the lead, but your “rehearsal” just hours before was little more than going through your lines once before Soldier Boy poured you a shot to “calm your nerves” and spent the following fifteen minutes fucking your mouth before sending you off to get ready for the show. 

Walking up on that stage again after your usual routine with the Sparkling Sweethearts was nerve-wracking. Though you knew what to expect, you still felt like your heart was going to pop out of your chest every time he lifted you above his head or tossed you up in the air and caught you, to the raucous applause and cheers of the Chicagoans and celebrities who’d packed the theater to see him.

“Betty Grable’s in town, so I think she’s the main course,” you said as you left, closing the door behind you and leaving your coworkers to tease you in private.

Among the various hobbies you’d taken up since becoming a Sparkling Sweetheart, people-watching in hotel bars was one of your favorites. He would almost always be there too, an otherworldly presence with an abundance of movers and shakers rotating in his orbit, unable to resist the pull of America’s golden son.

Some of the girls in the troupe didn’t care for him, found him too brash and handsy. You could think of at least one who’d been unceremoniously replaced after loudly complaining one too many times. No one really knew what the extent of his powers were, but after that incident, you suspected enhanced hearing might be among them. Or someone was just a snitch. 

When you stepped into the bar, a quick scan of the room revealed Betty Grable to be nowhere in sight. You didn’t see Soldier Boy either, until a deep voice wrapped around you like velvet.

“There’s my girl.”

“Who, me?” you asked teasingly.

“‘Course you are, honey.”

“Because I heard Betty Grable’s in town—“

He scoffed. “That broad? Who needs her?”

Your chest filled with pride at his statement. She was the pin-up girl of choice for every GI in Europe and the Pacific. Well, almost all of them. His arm settled around your waist as he told the bartender to give you whatever you wanted. The overhead lights in the bar were nice and low, you felt warm beneath Soldier Boy’s gaze. Being the object of his attention always carried weight. He was the world’s first superhero, after all. A living legend. Plenty of other women he could be spending his time with besides you.

Pressing your lips to his cheek, you whispered a ‘thank you’ for the drink, taking in the way he licked his lips, his handsome face so close to yours, still under the slight cover of the shadows. Whoever decided a helmet that covered half of his face would be part of his costume needed serious help. 

“Y’know, if you hadn’t come down here, I might’ve gone up to your room and dragged you out,” he said, lowering his voice so only you could hear. “It’s like you were shakin’ your ass just for me on that stage.”

“It’s called shimmying, and I’m glad you liked it.”

“I was thinking, how about you replace Darla for my act?”

“Permanently?”

“Sure, we’ve got great chemistry,” he said, squeezing your hip, “on and off stage.”

As the night progressed, your conversations with Soldier Boy were interrupted by the slew of people who recognized him, excitedly introducing themselves and asking for a few minutes of his time. He graciously accepted with a ‘You don’t mind, right honey?’ And you shook your head, watching him humor politicians, business moguls, and socialites.

You smiled when the latest one had made their departure, tilting your head the slightest bit. “Do you even remember what my name is?”

“Honey suits you better,” he said, his tongue darting out between his lips. “Bet you taste like it too.”

“You sure?”

“Only one way to find out.”

“I guess so.”

He pressed a kiss to your temple, passing you his room key. “You go make yourself comfortable while I close out my tab.” 

As if he’d even be paying for the drinks himself. It’d probably be billed to the Department of Defense, or that strange company that sponsored the tour. You didn’t pay much attention to who was signing your checks, just that they cashed out when you brought them to the bank.

You balked at his hotel room, far more space than a single man could possibly need. Then again, he rarely spent his nights alone. 

Comfortable. Ridding yourself of your clothes, you climbed into the giant bed, pulling the covers just over your breasts. As you laid back on the plush pillows, you recalled earlier that day when he had swatted your ass as you walked off stage after your act with him was finished, playing it off as a joke to the crowd who cheered and whistled. The simple yet slightly painful gesture had gone straight through you, however, and you worried that there’d be a noticeable wet spot on your satin panties when you and the other Sparkling Sweethearts returned for one last routine to close out the show, your high kicks telling on you.

Biting your lip, you glanced at the door and slipped a hand between your legs. He had only said to make yourself comfortable, nothing specifically about waiting. Gently prodding two fingers against your pussy, you weren’t surprised to find that you were wet already. Your eyes fluttered shut as you pushed your fingers inside, thinking about how his hands felt on you earlier. Strong and steady, big hands that could break you so easily but didn’t.

“Couldn’t wait?” He stood at the end of the bed, fully clothed with his arms folded over his broad chest as he pinned you in place with his disapproving glare.

You gasped, pulling your hand from between your legs. “I was just–”

He clicked his tongue at you, though his eyes betrayed his amusement. “My fault for keeping you waiting too long, doll.”

Soldier Boy joined you on the bed, pulling back the covers you’d pulled over your bare body. He pressed his lips against yours, kissing you with an overwhelming fireceness as he groped your breasts, squeezing down your stomach to your hips and finally your thighs. His lips followed that same path, kissing and biting along your skin that suddenly felt feverish beneath his touch. Still, your pussy ached for him, especially since he had walked in while you were pleasuring yourself, but he wasn’t paying any mind to it.

Until he dipped his head down, licking your wet cunt. In your shock, you pushed your thighs together, as if his intrusion were unwelcome. 

His strong hands held your legs apart, gently squeezing the tender flesh. “I jerked off thinking about this earlier, but nothin' like the real thing, huh?”

You let out a shaky breath, eyes focused on the ornate ceiling. Gold leafing, a Renaissance-esque painting, surely Soldier Boy didn’t care much about that. 

“Eyes on me, honey. You got that?”

Immediately, you looked at him, his blazing green stare burning through you until you nodded. He wasted no time in burying his face between your legs, his tongue flicking against your clit with such force that you realized you had no idea what getting eaten out by a superhero would actually entail. 

He lapped at your pussy with an insatiable fervor that made your legs shake beneath his steady grip. Your moan caught in your throat when he plunged his tongue deeper into you, his nose brushing that sensitive bundle of nerves he’d already teased. 

A whine tore from your throat when he pulled away for a moment, smugly admiring your glistening sex. His lips appeared coated in your juices, and you nearly came at that sight alone.

“Fuck you’re soaked,” he growled appreciatively. “This all for me?”

Who else? As if any other man could make you feel pleasure so intensely, as if that were yet another superpower of his. For a moment you bemoaned a possible future of unsatisfying sex with some regular old Joe–not America’s hero, its fucking sex symbol. But all you could manage was a weak, “Yes.”

Satisfied with your response, he closed his plush lips over your clit, sucking on it like he was pulling from a cigarette, your arousal burning deep in his lungs. You grabbed at the sheets, digging your hands into them as you grind your pussy against his face. Your eyes fluttered shut for a split second, shooting open when he smacked your thigh. Eyes on me.

“Fuck—Soldier Boy,” you moaned. “‘m close.”

He growled against you, the vibrations from his throat edging you closer to orgasm. His inhuman stamina meant he hadn’t given you much of a break since he lowered his face between your thighs. He’d been content to tease you for a while, but he seemed more focused, intentional with the way he ate you out, his attention especially focused on your clit. 

You could feel it, that tightness in your abdomen that was about to snap. Involuntarily, your eyes fluttered shut, and you were on that stage again, in his big arms, bright lights blaring as you stared dreamily at him. Then he threw you in the air, higher and higher until you came back down and–

“Soldier Boy, oh my god–don’t fucking stop,” you pleaded, riding out your orgasm on his face.

His hands held down your bucking hips, your ecstasy overpowered by his determination to bring you over the edge until you were an incoherent mess, muscles aching at the exertion of each orgasm despite him doing all of the work. Light-headed, seeing stars, you reached down, tugging at his hair. That was it. You were tapping out. Mercy.

He granted such, though he pressed sloppy kisses to your inner thighs, nipping at the tender skin. All you could give him was weak moans in return. If you expected to be able to go anywhere else the rest of the night, he’d made damn well sure you couldn’t so much as move from his bed. Maybe that was the idea.  

Your breath caught in your throat when he lifted his head, wiping his glistening lips with the back of his hand, though the evidence of your orgasms was still all over the rest of his face. He kissed you, the foreign taste of yourself filling your mouth, sending a deliciously obscene rush through you. His mouth broke from yours, just for a moment, as he whispered your name against your lips. You realized you didn’t actually know his.

[allurilove]

I admire how fast you write fics lol

Can we get part two of the rejecttion of our classmates lol? Like how is the rest of the summer. I imagine us having to go back to school.

Yandere Classmate’s

For the rest of the summer, they are both pretty miserable. Yearbook guy hasn’t been rejected before, and usually he does that, so it’s a weird change for him. He would just mope around in private, being able to express his true feelings by shoving his face into his pillow. But he’s not a crier, if anything it makes him more determined to become the best man for you. He’s already got the looks, house, and all the superficial stuff to win you over, and now he just had to work on impressing you.

Your phone blows up a couple of times, and when you look over, you see an insta request from yearbook guy. And when you continue to ignore, and don’t accept within a minute, he continues to keep asking. You reluctantly accept in the end, scrolling on his feed to see a couple of pictures of him working at a dog rescue shelter- the pics already garnering quite the likes. Yearbook guy continues to volunteer, do amazing social work, and on his downtime he plays golf at his country club. And of course, he’s teaching little kids how to play sports. He gets frustrated when you don’t respond to any of his posts and stories, and he ignores the text messages from anyone else.

When school finally starts, he might just confront you about not interacting with his posts, and make you feel bad about not caring for the poor dogs or his charity work. But really, he’s hesitant to come up to you. Knowing you absolutely despise him, he doesn’t know what to do really. So he’ll leave you alone for now, maybe if he gave you space, you would realize how much you actually do like him.

Yandere classmate is definitely more stressed out. He has a bunch of these jobs he signed up for- just so he could see you, but now it was going to be awkward since you rejected him. He goes to work everyday, hoping you wouldn’t show up, and when his shift ends he has to quickly run to his next one. He’s making decent money at least, being able to buy more stuff of his favorite sanrio character. He holds his plushie tight when he goes to sleep, his eyes closing and he dreams of you that night.

It doesn’t help that his feet automatically follows you wherever you go. Your schedule is already ingrained in his head that he is at the place you would go to for fun. He sighed as he realized he walked into the same arcade you were in, and he hides in the corner to see you smile, and to see the way your eyes sparkle underneath the artificial lights. When you aren’t able to get the stuffed animal you wanted from the claw machine, he starts to fish out a couple of coins and subtly drops it your way. He keeps doing that until you were able to get the prize you wanted.

When he has to go back to school he tried to catch up on all his homework. His grades were pretty bad since he skipped a lot to see you, and now he was suffering from the consequences. And every math question seemed to lead to you. Soon enough, his paper was just scribbles of your name.

[nxtesinthemargin]

tag dump

[foamkissed]

@mythlived​ cont. from here (x)

Dear, dear. Time changed so much, indeed. The death of siblings - and the death of darling Paris’ regard for her? Things were so lovely back then - she moved as she pleased, she was the most beautiful, and Father allowed her to do as she wished - for the most part. 

How cruel of him! To gaze at her with such animosity - when she had bestowed nothing but generosity and goodwill upon him in years gone by. To blame her for his misfortunes - when it was she who had plucked him from underneath Menelaus’ sword, she who had delivered on her promise of a most beautiful woman in exchange for his mere word, she who influenced poor Helen to beg Oenone to bestow mercy on the then-dying Paris. No fault it was of hers if he was too weak a warrior to count his blessings by staying alive for much longer - or if he was unable to keep the woman gifted unto him - or if he ultimately died... No, this wouldn’t do. Aphrodite refused to shoulder the blame - but who could blame human arrogance? Unfounded, pitiful, human arrogance. 

Love, divinity... things beyond true human comprehension. As long as love existed, she would be here. 

“ And yet, I have survived where so many did not. Really... Celia’s a nice girl - she should be honored to serve me. Of course, I’ll repay the favour when I ascend again. She’s proven herself quite worthy of Elysian if she continues on like this. ”

“ However... you, Paris, are quite another matter. ”

Standing up, she crosses to right in front of him. 

“ Have you forgotten my love already? I’m hurt... But never fear, my fondness for you will allow such small mistakes on your behalf. Shall I remind you, then? ”

[noornovakhq]

TAG DUMP

[genevievegrath]

TAG DUMP

[moved2usagiiboo]

Such a pretty boy

Syp; Sanzu hates everything about you, from the way you talk to the way you dress. Especially how good you make him feel.

Ft; Sub Sanzu x Dom!reader

Genre; Nsfw, smut. Minors do not interact

Warnings; Demasculinizing, crossdressing, degrading, praising, masturbation (m receiving), anal (kind of), sexual acts in public.

A/n; I'm so excited for this one ishsjsba I love sub!tr boys so much but I kinda hate this fic so

Nobody remembers when Y/n’s presence in their life became so prevalent, more specifically in Mikey’s life. It was as if you appeared out of thin air and marked your place by his side and nobody questioned you.

At first, it was weird you being inside the room while they have a meeting. But, after getting used to you and the sound of your loud clicking heels it became normal. Kokonoi giving you his card to buy whatever your heart desires, normal. Takeomi and Ran babying you is normal, and you going out for lunch and tea with Kakucho and Rindou that’s normal. Everybody practically accepted you, no questions asked – well, everyone except for Mikey’s right-hand man. Sanzu Haruchiyo.

It’s not as if he has a reason to dislike you or hate you, no. You’ve never given him one. Maybe that’s why he hates you so much. Along with other things, such as the way you dress; frilly dresses with bows and bright colors. What are you, five? The way your hair is always in curly pigtails as if you’re some sort of doll. And the thing he hates even more than those is how your eyes sparkle whenever you talk about clothes or shoes, as if there’s nothing more important than your appearance.

And what he hates the most, out of everything is the way you press his buttons. You do it on purpose, knowing exactly what to say to have him participate in all your sadistic fantasies.

You challenge his masculinity, his ego, and his pride all in one sentence.

“What? Scared that you’ll look pretty in a dress, that you’ll look more like a girl than a man?” He knows what you’re getting at with the way you smiled at him. He promised himself that he wouldn’t get bite – he wouldn’t let your words get to him, not this time. He swore he was going to ignore you and your honey like voice. But he’s a man and he’s weak. So weak.

“Just like I thought, you’re so pretty Zuzu.” Sanzu would grumble if he could. But he’s a little to focus on the way you run your hands up and down his cock as your glossy lips attack his neck. Kissing all the way up to his ear. You made sure not to break eye contact with him. No matter how many times he turned his head or closed his eyes – when he looked back into the mirror your penetrative orbs would be waiting for him.

His muffled groans are music to your ears, they’re beautiful. You stare at him through the mirror of the changing stall. Watching the way he turns his head to the side when your hands travel down to play with his balls. So sensitive.

“If you went outside people would mistake you for a woman and try to hit on you.” You wish you could hear them more, listen to him without him holding back his moans. His teeth caught the skirt of the dress in between his lips, every time he feels the vibration in his throat he bites down harder.

“You’d probably like that, wouldn’t you?” Your tongue licks the lobe of his ear and in response he shudders. “Too bad you’re all mine, right Zuzu?” Thumb pressed hard against his leaky tip. You felt his body jolt with a deep groan leaving his closed lips.

“If you keep biting on that you’ll damage it, then we’ll really have to buy it.” His drool travels down the frilly end of the dress leaving a wet mark wherever it touches. You really will have to buy this dress.

Slender fingers run up his cock, one finger tracing the vein that went up to his tip. Already leaking from excitement your gentle thumb smears the pre around his red tip pressing down on it in the process. “Zuzu, you’re leaking. Such a quick shot.” Maybe it’s because you’ve been jerking him off for 30 minutes. Never giving him the satisfaction of release. Every-time he gets close you abruptly stop, edging him over and over again for your own sick and sadistic pleasures. His cock hurts but he wants to cum so bad, he wants to cum all over your pretty fingers making a mess of himself. He’s gotten so desperate that his hips began to move on their own, fucking himself into your hands.

Locking eyes with him through the mirror you see a sight you’ll never forget – his face redder than the ripest strawberry, frowned eyebrows, with glossy eyes from his forming tears. Fuck. He’s not helping himself by looking this cute.

“You make it hard to keep my hands to myself, I just wanna ruin you.” Your teasing does nothing to stop his arousal only amplifying it, the sickingly sweet tone in your voice has his cock twitching in your palms.

He sucks in his breath through the fabric as one of your hands make its way to his ass – “I wonder how loud you would be if I fucked this little hole of yours.”

Just the thought of you being inside him is disgusting, normally it would be so disgusting. He would cringe at the thought, hell, he might even shoot you— but right now, as your warm hand cups his ass nothing sounds better than you fucking him senseless. He wonders if you would call him your pretty boy or maybe pretty girl, if you’d love him properly with his ass in the air for you. Just his own thoughts are stimulating to him, he wishes they could be a reality but he wouldn’t be caught dead asking for it.

“Is that what you want, hm? I’ll do it for you Zuzu, all you have to do is use that pretty voice of yours and ask.” Why does your voice sound so much sweeter? He swears it’s because of the edging. Allowing spit to dribble down your tongue to your finger tips you swipe your now wet index down the divider of his ass.

"Once I fuck you here, you'll really be my woman~" Fuck, why does your voice sound so much more seductive than before. Honey laced voice, or maybe drug infused considering how high you make him feel. He already feels as if he's losing himself to you. On the brink of tears from this edging, all he needs is one push— Your index finger pressing firmly against his puckering hole.

His thoughts were already stimulating enough. Cloudy white cum shooting from his red tip and all over you. That was all he needed. Legs locking up along with as his balls tightening as his cock releases all over your hand and the mirror. Biting down hard on the fabric as he finishes, a groan that resembles more of a whimper powers through his orgasm. It's just so good. His orgasm hit him like a title wave.

“Oh?” Both a puzzled and intrigued look appeared on your features when you felt Sanzu pushing his back against you. Legs slightly quaking from the powerful orgasm. Ruining your pretty hand along with the mirror. All because of a single finger against his ass. He’s so fucking pretty. Heavy pants as he lets the fabric fall from his mouth.

“M’gonna have so much fun with you, Zuzu.” He really hates you.

Permatag; @bxnten , @yukihime-mikeys-girl 2/50

[vonbleickenxl-blog]

@dcllax send this:  I’ll kill the asshole that did this to you.

         “No tiene caso que lo hagas, el imbécil solo derramo su bebida sobre mi y salio huyendo” hablo mientras intentaba limpiar un poco la bebida sobre su vestido, aunque ya era un caso perdido, ella lo sabia. “Necesito comprarme algo, nadie puede verme de esta forma”

[allthingsarmin]

armin with a bimbo gf?

TW: NSFW! MINORS DO NOT INTERACT! 

REQUESTS ARE OPEN ~

Ft. Bimbofication, manipulation, sex, and other topics alike!

Fem!Reader, FemBodied!Reader

Thank you for your request, anon! I hope you like what I wrote, and please feel free to request more.

(I am HERE for this Armin brain-rot lmao! I love reading fanfictions/headcanons like these).

꘎♡━━━━━━━━━━━━━━━♡꘎

Armin with a bimbo gf:

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin is a very polite man: always making sure you go to bed on time, putting your dead phone on the charger when you fall asleep with it in your hands, reminding you to drink water throughout the day, always lets you spend his own money on something you want, and kissing and massaging your forehead when you have a headache. He is so genuine and wouldn’t do things like this for just anyone.

ᵔᴥᵔ However, there’s a dark side to him where he can’t possibly deny how much he enjoys his dumb, empty-headed bimbo girlfriend. The way your hair is always done-up and suffocating from hairspray, the way your lips are always glossy with your favorite red cherry lip gloss, the way your short skirts and low-cut shirts show off your perfect figure, the way your perfum smells like roses and cheap sex, your intense sweetness and life-or-death dependency towards Armin, your fake innocence when you look at him with tears and ruined mascara running down your face, they way you can’t hide your wetness when he forcibly touches you in public… it makes Armin’s body tingle and cock hard. It brings out a dominant side to him that is inescapable as he manipulates your mind and pussy with thoughts only of him and his cock.

ᵔᴥᵔ He loves how there are literally no useful or smart thoughts going through that little head of yours. He thinks it’s so cute how you play with your hair, chewing gum, breasts nearly spilling out of your shirt while you sit in his lap, head empty, trusting him when you’re completely vulnerable. He loves it because he can so easily take advantage of you.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin is a master manipulator. So intensely and quickly does he break you down so that you’re only able to think about taking his large cock into your pathetically wet cunt and sweet mouth. This way, he can practically slide into you whenever and wherever he wants:

Laying on the bed and playing your game console? Armin wants you to keep playing the game and desperately try to win while he’s teasing your needy entrance with his fingers which were previously thrusted into your whiny mouth.

In the shower trying to get clean? He sneakily joins you, gently pushing your back against the cold shower walls and eagerly lifting up your chin so that you can look into his kind yet menacing blue eyes. “Let me help you,” he offers while reaching for the body wash and proceeding to tenderly massage it into your breasts, purposely flicking over your nipples. “Right now?” you whine already tired from the previous sex sessions earlier today, (but you can’t deny that you’re already excited because he’s literally the only thing your brain thinks about). With his free hand, he suddenly thrusts a finger into your soft cunt. “It’s lamentable how wet you already are for me,” he coos, excited to know that he really has done a good job manipulating that little brain of yours. You whine and grip onto Armin’s toned upper arms. He kisses your forehead, the water and sweat making his golden hair stick to him. The heat from the flowing water and from Armin’s body is making you go crazy as you prepare for your velvety walls to get pounded once more.

Trying to study for an upcoming test? Armin continuously distracts you: “Baby, you’re no use for stuff like this,” he says pointing to your textbook, “why don’t you focus on being pretty, yeah?” He rubs your thigh and crouches down next to you, politely opening your legs with an arrogant grin on his face, slightly taken aback by the fact that you weren’t wearing underwear under your short skirt but definitely not surprised considering what an air-headed whore you are. He dives in between your thighs, attacking your clit with his tongue, not letting you pull away and eagerly waiting to hear your pathetic moans.

ᵔᴥᵔ He thinks it’s so hilariously adorable when you walk into his office and offer to help him with his work.

“Hahaha,” he laughs, feeling pity for you. He pulls you into a warm hug and kisses your forehead. “My work is too difficult for someone like you, baby,” he says as he pats your empty head. “Why don’t you go to the bedroom and play your game? I’ll be there soon.” He smiles innocently, making his eyes wrinkle on the sides. ‘He is beautiful,’ you think. His soft blond hair and his kind, ocean blue eyes. You really are so stupid, being tricked by his angelic appearance. When he finally comes to the bedroom, his smile is somewhat sinister, and his eyes have gone dark.

ᵔᴥᵔ Lets you dress slutty in public for two reasons: He likes to see the jealous looks from other perverted men seeing that you are in fact Armin’s slut… and he can use the fact you dress slutty in public against you while he’s fucking you.

“You’re such a whore… trying to get other mens’ attention in public.” His right hand is clenching your frail neck, and he forces you to maintain eye contact with him as you tell him it's not true and that he's the only one you want.

ᵔᴥᵔ Likes it when you wear your hair in tight pigtails - that way he can hold onto them while he’s fucking you from behind ᵔᴥᵔ Really likes missionary position - he likes to grip your neck so that you can maintain eye contact with him as your dolled-up face pleasurably contorts, lips drooling with saliva, tears that eat away at your mascara as he’s cruelly pumping in and out of you. He likes to thrust unbearably slow when he wants to hear you whine and complain about needing more - then, he can degrade you and call you an ungrateful whore. Also likes to suddenly go fast to hear you loudly gasp and incoherently babble as you powerfully squirt on his cock. No matter how many orgasms, your mind and pussy only think of and need more of him. ᵔᴥᵔ Armin also really likes it when you ride his cock. This way he can watch your breasts violently bounce up and down as well as tease your nipples right when you’re on the edge. Loves to see how desperately you squirm when you’re sitting upright on his cock, begging for more stimulation. You like this position too. You can see how blushed Armin’s sweet face is, how his chest quickly rises and falls, and how the muscles in his arms are tensed up.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin loves when you give him oral. He loves seeing your once beautifully done hair become a complete tangly mess as he grips onto it and forces his cock inside your mouth. Loves to hear that ‘pop’ sound when you finally pull your glossy, pink lips off of his thick, blushed cock. Is all about eye-contact when you give him oral. He likes to see your face become sprinkled with tears as he pushes his cock deep into the back of your throat - the desperation in your eyes during this moment while you look at him nearly makes him go feral.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin also really loves to overstimulate you, especially because he can take advantage of you during these moments. By the time you’ve calmed from your orgasm, you are completely fucked dumb, head even emptier if at all possible, eyes rolled to the back of your head, whimpering at the slightest movement, only thinking about Armin, his angelic face, and his sweet, brutal cock. You’re already so tired from your last orgasm, but he takes this chance to start rubbing your clit again. As you jerk away from the painful sensation, he laughs, continuing his slow, unbearable rubbing. You beg him to stop, and Armin becomes angry. “Oh, you want me to stop? Am I not good enough for you? Not good enough at making a dumb whore like you feel good? I guess I’ll leave now.” He immediately pulls away, rudely turning his head away from you. His blond hair is nearly covering his deep blue eyes which are spilling with fake tears in hopes that he can manipulate you with fear and pity. As you apologize for your selfish behavior and beg him to stay, he darkly grins and harshly pats your sensitive pussy. “That’s what I thought,” he coos laughingly, going back to abuse your wet cunt.

ᵔᴥᵔ Armin also really likes to edge you, and he never lets you cum without his permission. He likes to sit you up on the bed, spread your legs, and tease your throbbing clit with his thumb. He can see sweat begin to coat your forehead, your cheeks dust with redness, and your glossy lips become lined with drool as your breasts are exposed and spilling out of your bralette. Still circling your clit with his thumb, he gets really close to your ear - his blond hair tickling you - and asks you if you want to cum. His beautiful blue eyes sparkle as he laughs when you only respond with whimpering and incoherent words. As you needily buck your hips against his thumb, he knows he has succeeded in manipulating you to become a useless, empty-headed slut with thoughts only of him.

ᵔᴥᵔ Though the relationship dynamic you have with Armin might seem intense, he’s an actual sweetheart. Aftercare with him is the best: you both take a warm bath together, he brushes your hair, massages your back, and kisses your forehead while thanking you for letting him enter your body. He always cuddles you before bed, holding you tightly and kissing your forehead. Not only that, but he honestly just really cares about you. He reminds you to drink water, tells you not to eat too many sweets, makes sure you exercise and that your period is regular, reads to you, and asks you to tell him about your day… and he never ever forgets to slip in a few “I love you”s while you two make love. Armin also loves to buy you things from flowers to hair ties or anything else you want. He just wants to make you smile because you make him smile. Overall, this man will never let his bimbo girlfriend down whether it’s sex or love.

[silver-weasel]

Diving (Deku x Reader)

Pairing : Deku x fem!reader (aged-up characters)

Rating : E, 18+

Tags : smut • fem!reader (she/her) • best friends to lovers / childhood friends to lovers • quirkless AU • p*rn with feelings (like. a lot of them) • public sex (more or less) • switching • hair pulling? • pining • Deku being flustered and an absolute angel what’s new • Reader being a teasing brat • It’s all soft and fluffy, I’m as vanilla as you can get 🤷‍♀️ • Happy birthday to the bestest boyyy I love him so much it hurts

Word count : 10 600 (Holy sh—)

A/N : Thank you @hoe-doroki my beloved and savior for beta-ing <3

Written for @rat-zuki​’s collab in honor of our favorite birthday boy, The Deku Agenda Escapes no One. Thank you so much for letting me join! (go check out the other amazing writers and artists!)

MINORS DO NOT INTERACT!

The ground grinds repeatedly under your hiking shoes, some pebbles being kicked forward on your way. You’re way too deep in the forest to hear any cars passing by and during the two hours you’ve been here you haven’t run into anyone. The place seems empty, the only souls breathing the forest’s thick air being you, Izuku and the birds chirping all around you.

The afternoon is coming to an end, the sun sinking down on its way to hide behind the mountains. The remains of its soft light are filtering through the dense leaves all around and above you. You’re surrounded by green, lush and immeasurable greenery, every plant merging into another.

You’ve left the marked paths, now wandering deep in the richest, boundless part of a forest you both know like the back of your hand after roaming it all over innumerable times. All over, except for this part, in which you’re setting foot for the first time today. Your many previous hiking sessions were shortened by your questionable sense of organization, always arriving too late to explore further into the unknown.

Leaves brush against your knees with every single step you take as you follow Izuku on his heels. He’s moving at a steady pace, his hands holding tight the straps of his yellow backpack that he’s had for as long as you can remember. He’s always so organized, has everything you two could eventually need and generally never do. Two huge flasks of water, an entire meal he calls ‘little snacks’, with sandwiches, fruits, protein bars, even hard-boiled eggs. A first-aid kit with disinfectant, bandages, scissors and painkillers. Hell, you’re even wondering if he has any pads for you in there, in case of an unexpected period. You wouldn’t be surprised if he did.

You giggle lightly when you see him stumble for the sixth time since you got here; he can’t seem to keep his curious eyes from drifting up and around, looking in every direction, probably retaining every detail and logging it in some impressive mental database of his. And he’s commenting on every little thing he sees too; he makes you notice things you never would have if it weren’t for his candid interest in everything.

“Oh! Look at that bird!” he exclaims, pointing at a branch over your heads. “Do you see it, right there, with the red mark!”

You turn your gaze to where he’s pointing and see a little bird, very cute, but so tiny you’re wondering how one could spot it without specifically looking for it. That’s probably what you like most about Izuku: his attention to detail. That’s the thing—nothing is too small for him, everything is worthy of interest. His eyes always light up with such curiosity, this child-like wonder and it was always one of your favorite things to witness growing up.

When he came over to your house at age six, he was always running around with some bug on his forearm, calling your name, yelling, “Look at this!”

Most of the time, it was a snail or a ladybug, and that always managed to catch your interest. Sometimes, it was a spider or a beetle, and he had you screaming in horror more than once, running to your mother’s legs with weeping eyes. Those times, he always watched you go with wide, sad eyes and a wobbly lip, because, “I would never hurt her, Mom! I swear I didn’t want to scare her!”

“Oh, yeah, I see it! It’s so cute!”

And it is cute, the way his huge green eyes go even rounder in amazement. You treasure these hikes for providing occasions to witness this. But as much as you wish this moment could last forever, the sun is beginning to set, you probably shouldn’t go deeper in the forest at sundown.

“We should probably head back to the car, Izuku. It’s gonna be dark soon.”

“Come on, it’s still so light—there’s no rush!” His lips crook a bit into an impish smile. “Scared that a bear is coming to get you?”

“There aren’t any bears here—we’ve been coming for five years.”

“Because if it’s the bears you’re afraid of,” he begins, ignoring you on purpose, “you know I’ll protect you, right?” he says, sticking out his chest like he’s some superhero.

“Against a bear? Right.”

“You’re underestimating me? That’s just mean.”

You chuckle at his antics, shooting him a look of yours that says, ‘Come on, please?’.

His eyes soften a bit, but he’s used to that look; it’s been years since it worked on him as well as you’d like it to.

“We can just keep going this way, then we’ll make a loop and head back to the car directly! It’ll be even shorter this way.”

“Alright, let’s do that,” you agree, and the smile it elicits from him makes something tingle deep in your stomach.

You move forward again, sinking deeper within the forest. It’s becoming harder and harder to walk, brambly branches and huge leaves blocking your way more and more with every step.

You’re a bit ahead of him when you catch sight of a sparkle behind the bushes. Just a glimpse of light, but you’re positive you saw it. Is there water here? You never really looked at a map of the place before—you just always went wherever you felt like and used the same tracks on the way back. You hurry up a bit, curious eyes fixed on that glimmer of light.

Soon enough the dense greenery comes to an end, and you’re finally out of the bushes, finding your way into a little clearing. You’re standing, speechless, in front of a pond: it’s about forty feet wide, catching the last rays of sunshine in a dazzling reflection. The water is surrounded by gigantic trees big enough to be home to an entire niche of biodiversity, and a half-sandy, half-stony shore with reeds rising from the water on both sides.

It’s all calm and quiet and massive trees, branches pouring, cascading above still water. The air feels cool, filled with a pure smell of dew and spring even though it’s the end of a hot day of July.

Izuku is close behind you and lets out a very cute, “Whoa,” ditching his backpack on the ground next to you in the middle of the cove. The both of you just stand there for a moment in complete silence, aside from the birds chirping. Izuku breaks it first:

“How come we’ve never seen this before? This place is amazing.” He sounds distant as he speaks, soaking up his surroundings like he always does.

“I guess you never know everything about anything,” you say mindlessly, without detaching your gaze of the wonderful view ahead.

He’s standing close to you, very close. You’re only noticing now that you’re coming down from the high of your discovery. Your arms are brushing, you can feel his body heat from how close you two are. It wouldn’t be the first time; you’re no stranger to being physically close to Izuku. You’ve been playing together since you were able to put one foot in front of the other. And you wish you could say it feels any different right now, but that would be a lie. Being close to him always felt the same. Always felt like the only easy thing in your life. The only constant.

Yet it’s not enough. No matter how close, it’s never enough, it never was. You hate yourself for feeling that way; you’ve never been the greedy, unsatisfied type. You have everything with Izuku. Well, almost everything.

But right now this place—this very quiet, beautiful place with no one in sight is doing things to your fertile imagination. Despite the sun just beginning to set, the summer air still remains thick with heat. You find yourself staring in the abyss of that water, admiring the masterpiece of a reflection on the surface, a painting of leaves and clouds and blue sky. It calls you, sings an irresistible song of fresh water on sweaty skin and strong, freckled arms wrapped around you.

You don’t know if the slight, insignificant detail that you would have to undress in order to dive into that water—since you didn’t bring a swimsuit—is a better reason to do it or to refrain from doing so.

You’ve lost count of how many moments you’ve shared with him just like this one. So many chances for you to take. You never have.

Back to the original issue: can you see yourself walk out of that clearing the way you always do? Can you see yourself going home, adding this missed chance to your growing collection of lost memories, of hands within your reach that you chose not to take?

The answer pops in your mind, crystal clear for the first time since you met him.

You drop your bag on the ground, turning to Izuku with a delighted expression stretching your features. The look on your face reminds him of one he’d seen on you as a kid, bouncing on the balls of your feet in front of the ice cream truck. At this moment he just knows you’ve got some stupid shenanigan in mind, like you always do. Once again, he isn’t wrong.

“Wanna take a dip?” You’re squinting at him from his side, a mischievous smile lighting up your face.

“I-I didn’t bring a swimsuit,” he stutters.

It’s been a long time since he last stuttered in front of you. He got rid of it years ago, but it still resurfaces sometimes in front of intimidating strangers or in a socially uncomfortable situation. Never in front of you, though.

“Me neither,” you answer plainly with that same impish smile, and his eyes go round at your implications.

“Wait, you can’t be—Oh my God—”

His heart does a great flip in his chest when he catches you taking the hem of your shirt up over your head. In less than five seconds, you’ve got him scorching hot, feverish and suddenly he can’t tell right from left.

His reflex is to bury his face in his hands. He respects you too much to take a peek, but you’re making things very difficult for him. He can hear you move towards the water, can hear the thump of your forgotten shoes hitting the ground one after the other, can hear the soft pad of your naked feet on the rocks.

“For the love of God, please, put it back on…” 

“What? Look at this view, it would be a shame not to make the most of it!”

He’s not looking at the view right now, he can’t let himself. He knows very well he won’t be able to focus on the trees when you’re standing pretty much naked—although he’s not sure to what extent—in front of him. You could be entirely naked right now and he wouldn’t be able to tell, his burning face still hidden in his shaking hands. His voice comes out muffled when he stammers, “I-It’s starting to get late, we really should get back to the car…”

“What, you’re scared of the bears?”

He can’t see you, but he knows you’re sporting that smug grin of yours, the one he first saw when you showed him your impressive collection of Pokémon cards on your preschool’s playground. You’ll have to take a lingering silence for an answer.

“Izuku, come on. I don’t bite.”

He’s not entirely sure the sight of you won’t gnaw him to the bone, won’t melt his entire body down and leave him a hot mess. He won’t be a man anymore, just a walking flame fueled by the heavenly sight of you. No, he can’t let himself fall into that. Obviously you don’t know what you’re doing to him.

Nevertheless, you’re probably the most stubborn person he knows. And he’s friends with Katsuki Bakugou, for God’s sake. He won’t be able to get out of this as easily as he wants, especially as he hears the delicate noise of water splitting at your feet as you enter the little pond.

He slowly moves his hands off of his face. You must have your back turned to him, so maybe he can drift his eyes off somewhere—

You are in front of him, thigh deep in the water now. In nothing but your panties. Your white, flower-patterned lace panties that are doing a very bad job at covering your backside. He lets out a long, pained whine, standing in the middle of the little shore with his arms dangling down his sides, not sure what to do with them.

“Why didn’t you at least keep your bra on?” His voice comes out way more wobbly than he intended to.

You turn a little so you can look at him, and it takes every little bit of strength he’s got left to look you in the eye. But as you’re turning around, the smooth curve of your breast starts showing, and God, is that your nipple?

He wants a giant hole to swallow him right now. He wants some forest creature to come for him right this instant, anything to keep him away from you, keep him from doing things he might regret. To punish him for having such thoughts about you, because you trust him, you’re so oblivious, so innocent, and he’s so weak against this inner monster that’s eating him away.

With a little frown, you deliver the answer like it’s self-evident as you kneel into the water, the surface just above your chest:

“I didn’t want it to get wet.”

“But you’re okay with your panties getting wet?”

The realization of what he just said is slow but surely comes. And when it does, he wishes even harder to get erased from the surface of this planet he’s already lucky enough to share with you. There is a long silence, and all he can hear for a few seconds are the birds chirping and the violent pounding of his heart against his ribcage, straining to get out.

You turn back around to look at him, dumbstruck. 

“I’m more than okay with that—”

“Please forget I just said that,” he cuts you off. He’s not sure he can bear to hear more of this.

“I’m never forgetting you said that. It’s pure gold,” you scoff.

He can only answer with a drawn-out whine. He doesn’t have any choice in this, does he?

When you dive in the water, he takes both his shaking hands to the hem of his shirt and starts undressing.

What the fuck am I doing?

The water is so pure you can see underwater as clear as day: the few rocks at the bottom, the little silvery fish all around you, and the last rays of sunlight permeating through the calm surface above your head. The water feels a bit cold on your naked skin since the sunlight and summer heat must only hit the clearing at certain hours of the day. Still, the cold water isn’t enough to clear your foggy mind.

What was I thinking?

You’ve always been a bashful person, why is it changing all of a sudden? Maybe it’s the devastating effect Izuku has on you.

You try to calm down a bit, taking a deep breath. So, you’re pretty much naked in front of him. Well, it definitely wouldn’t be the first time, and it (probably) won’t be the last. Now you just have to go through with your stupid idea. It’s no big deal, it’s only Izuku. Only Izuku.

Only Izuku.

Fuck.

You finally surface, not only because you can’t hide underwater forever, but also because, surprisingly, you’re not a fish, you have to actually breathe.

You push your dripping hair to the back of your head, still careful to keep your breasts under the water. Izuku’s already in to his hips when you turn around to look at him, your vision still blurry from the water trickling all over your face. He’s merciless, standing like that, only the elastic of his boxers peeking out of the water. You’re a bit surprised by the plain, black color. You were expecting something along the lines of blue, yellow and red. Izuku is full of surprises.

But nevermind the color of his underwear—what you find just above is mesmerizing. Your indiscreet, incorrigible gaze can’t help following the thin trail of hair tracing up to his navel, then the stunning lines of his abs, partly hidden behind his freckled forearms shyly crossed over them. The freckles spread up his powerful arms, gently sunkissed, scattering all over his broad shoulders.

Is he actually hiding, though? Doesn’t he know he looks like he was carved by the gods themselves?

“Have you done this before?”

The sound of his voice startles you a bit. Ah, right. You were shamelessly staring. It takes you a couple of seconds to force your distracted mind back into focus. “Done what?”

“Skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s my first time. It looks like it’s yours too.” His big, bright eyes drift around like they don’t know where to look. It’s really cute.

“It is,” he admits, now kneeling into the water as well. “I would’ve thought you were used to this.” You arch a single eyebrow in an amused frown.

“What, do I look like I have a professional degree in skinny dipping?”

“No, it’s just…You look confident, it just seemed like it.”

Confident? You’re nowhere near confident—you’re terrified. You try to keep your cool, but it’s probably the first time you’re putting on an act in front of Izuku.

“Well, you’re not so bad at it yourself.” You don’t miss the little blush coating his cheeks at that. “Also, I’m not exactly naked.”

“You’re not exactly dressed either, that’s a...v-very small piece of clothing.” He’s blushing a bit harder, looking away.

“Oh, seems like you paid some attention to my piece of clothing then, good to know.”

Now he’s quite simply scarlet. A very cute, very hot, freckled tomato. He’s so easily flustered, it only makes you want to tease him some more.

“Were your legendary All Might boxers in the dirty hamper? That’s a shame. I’m a bit disappointed,” you say in a mockingly innocent voice.

He doesn’t retort, simply stands there on his knees, shooting you an unreadable look and a little pout. After a few seconds, you open your mouth to continue, only to be startled by a strong splash hitting you in the face.

When you snap out of your shock, hair and face dripping all over your shoulders, you look up at him with what must be the scariest look of betrayal. Or the most ridiculous, apparently, since he starts laughing, louder and louder, and can’t seem to stop.

“Oh, you’re pretty pleased with yourself right now, aren’t you?” You can’t help but chuckle while talking, his laugh is so contagious.

“I am, yeah!” he manages to articulate, only starting to calm down.

As the calm of the forest returns, you watch his eyes go back to their usual round shape bit by bit, his face relaxing again. His smile causes butterflies to fly up and around in a whirlwind deep into your belly. You chuckle a bit at the feeling, almost embarrassed by how he’s making you feel like you’re in some dumb, cliche rom-com movie. On the outside, you must look a bit like a maniac, but he’s a nice guy, so he simply asks, “What is it?”

And before you can overthink yourself out of it, you’re hurling yourself at him. He barely has the chance to stutter a weak, “Wait!” before you’re putting all your weight on him, sinking his head deep in the water. Izuku may well be a nice guy, but you know he isn’t going to let you get away with this, so you’re not surprised when you’re dragged underwater by your legs. He lets go immediately, a bit abruptly, even, like it burnt his hands to touch you.

You both emerge from the water soon, and it takes you a second to get rid of the water blurring your vision, but then it hits you. How tantalizingly close you are to each other now, your bodies an inch away from touching. You’re both on your knees, enveloped in the coolness of crystal clear water and the reflections of the canopy of leaves above your heads. A spark of electricity makes you freeze on the spot; you’re so close to him your breasts slightly brush against his chest.

After a little eternity, you find the courage to look up at his face. He looks mindblowing, really. Despite the two decades you spent together, you’re not sure you’ve ever seen the pure, astonishing details of his freckles from this close. You would remember it, you definitely would. It’s a spectacular view, one of those visual memories that comes back to hit you in flashes. His nose and cheekbones are covered in them, drawing a mesmerizing pattern, more complex than the Milky Way itself. They’re an uncrackable equation, like a weird quirk of nature that you’ll never understand but don’t question anyway. They spread a little more scattered, but still very present, up to his forehead and down to his delicate jaw.

And his eyes—you could just drown in them. There’s this bright, blinding light there that feels like laying in the grass and looking up at the sunlight coating the leaves of this tree, the one you grew up near and always played under.

You swear you didn’t move, neither did he, and still you manage to get even closer to him. Now it’s you against the inexorable attraction that pulls you towards him like a fierce magnet. And it’s a losing battle, you think, as you’re both entering each other’s personal space like you share just one.

There’s nothing friendly about the way he can’t look you in the eye, seemingly too obsessed with your lips. You drop your gaze to his and find them calling for you. It’s been so long, now the thought of kissing Izuku seems unfamiliar despite being ever-present in your imagination for so many years. Like repeating a word so much it ends up becoming a series of meaningless sounds to your confused mind.

He’s the one who finally closes the distance, his lips landing on yours so softly you can barely feel them. He doesn’t move, simply content with the contact. You’re both eight years old again for a minute. The kiss feels like the little peck a kid would finally give to his crush in the middle of their school’s playground before running away to his friends.

Time seems to stop for God knows how long, and after what feels like no time and forever all at once, his lips move hesitantly against yours, bringing you back to reality. Right then, it all crashes on you like a tremendous wave. The distant echo of your mothers’ voices from the kitchen and the stupid cartoons they made you watch so they could talk for ten more minutes. The games alone together because no one wanted to play with you two weirdos. The piggyback rides, the dumb jokes, the video games (you always won). The neverending texting sessions at night because one of you couldn’t sleep. The fights that never lasted long enough to see the next sunrise because you both are way too weak for each other. All those stupid places that wouldn’t have looked half as breathtaking if it weren’t for him.

His lips are soft but roughly bitten. Hot and wet from the water and maybe from something else. He doesn’t taste like anything other than home, and that’s more than enough for you. His hands went up to cup your face at some point, but you’re too drowned in all the feelings coming up to the surface to pay attention to anything other than his soft mouth pressing on yours, more and more, opening up—

And it’s already over. You only notice that you’ve closed your eyes when you open them again when you don’t feel anything against your mouth other than the summer air. When your mind manages to regain any sense of function, the blurry focus of your gaze settles on his eyes. Wide open. Pupils eating up the dazzling viridian that puts the forest to shame. And a terrified expression in them.

He’s looking at you like he hurt you. His lips should still be on yours, kissing and sucking, not frozen like they are right now, obviously trying to express something painful as a few weak sounds pass their barrier before he finally manages to speak:

“Oh—Oh my God, I-I’m s—”

You don’t let him finish his stupid sentence. You don’t think twice before you take his face in your hands and lean in to kiss him again, with shameless intent this time. No more pretending—you’ve been waiting long enough for this and apparently, so has he.

It’s nothing gentle this time when your mouths crash against each other, teeth clashing and lips bruising under the weight of twenty years. You hold to his face like a lifeline, fingers sinking just a bit into his cheekbones, the tip of your nails getting caught in the knots of his dripping hair just above his ears. It’s messy, your noses rubbing before he angles his face better. One of his hands loops around your waist in a tight grip, forcing your chest to crush against his, the other burying in your hair at the base of your skull.

The feeling is electrifying, indescribable. It’s nothing like the pale, miserable depiction of your imagination. It’s discovering life in color when all you’ve always known was black and white.

The water is cool, but his body scorches against yours, burns your skin in the most exquisite way. The kiss is desperate on both parts, but neither of you is confident. His lips suck on yours with tentative motions, and you respond in kind the best you can. They are hungry, starving for flesh but don’t know how to hunt.

Your hands are gripping more and more of his hair, pulling harder, sending waves of heat all the way down his groin, and he’s not sure he can hide the bulge growing there for much longer.

He has to be sure, he has to be absolutely certain you want this as much as he does, because once he starts, he may not be able to stop. But you feel so good, all pressed against him. Your skin feels so soft under his hand at the small of your back he has to dig his nails in the skin of your waist so he doesn’t cross a line. But the curve just above your ass is begging for him to grip at the tender flesh and squeeze, fill his hands with it. He’s been dreaming about this for so long.

No, he can’t just hurl himself at you like a hunting wolf the first chance he gets—what kind of friend does that?

It takes him every bit of focus he has left to break the kiss, to part away from you. You have to discuss this, he can’t just throw away twenty years of friendship! Now you’re looking up at him with puppy eyes saying, ‘Why won’t you play with me?’ He breathes out a shaky sigh, and begins:

“Um, look. Believe me when I say I’ve wanted this for a very, very long time, and I love you so, so much. As a friend, I mean.” He sees you frown at this, catches a glint of something he doesn’t like in your eyes, then panics. “No, no, no, I mean, a-as a friend, but also more than that, o-obviously. But I don’t know what you want, you might be...d-disappointed, or...um—” His face starts heating up like it hasn’t in ages. He takes another breath, tries to clear up the muddled mess happening in his head. “Look, I just want the best for you, but you look...good, very good, and you’re making things very difficult for me, doing...this—”

“Izuku.” The deafening hubbub filling his mind falls suddenly silent, your voice a comforting, steady rock for him to cling to when his mind is storming out of control.

“Yeah?”

You get even closer to him, since he gradually set some distance while mumbling his anxious thoughts out again. You cup his face in your hands, a gentle, featherlight touch, and look up at him with determination in your eyes. You pull his head down a bit to settle on yours, your foreheads and noses connected, never breaking eye contact. Your lips graze over his, both your breaths mixing there, your voice a quiet whisper as you speak again. “Do you want me?”

Out of the jittery mess of his mind, the answer comes out like evidence, plain and simple: “Yes.”

“Then shut up and kiss me.”

You take action immediately, kissing him once again and this time he doesn’t hesitate to put his—still rather shaky—hands on you. The feeling of you is addicting, pushing his insecurities further in the back of his mind. He starts at your waist, running his thumbs there, feeling the goosebumps rising on your skin. They wander up your spine, counting every single bump of your bones, all the way to your nape. Then dragging them back down to settle on your hips, his fingers digging in the soft flesh. The little sigh you breathe on his lips causes an impressive amount of blood to run straight to his dick. 

Your mouth is distracting, dizzying, sucking on his bottom lip, nipping playfully. His tongue slides over your lips, then against your own when you open up immediately for him. You’re pressing against him even more, your breasts rubbing against his naked chest and he swears you’re going to be the death of him. You’re hanging from his shoulders by now, your arms circling his neck, still gripping a handful of green hair, pulling. You have to stop doing this—he might cum right away. He doesn’t say it aloud, only lets a moan escape him into your mouth.

He wanted this, wanted this for so long, and now that it’s real, it’s beyond everything he could have imagined. The heat of your skin, the weight on his shoulders as you cling to him, your breath in his mouth, your little sighs.

He’s only now noticing that his hands have gone to reach their destination with a mind of their own. They’re on your ass underwater, feeling the white, wet lace, the sole cloth on your entire body—that thing is just there to tempt him. He’s unsure if you like what he’s doing until you release a whimper, louder this time, enough to send a vibration against his mouth (and straight to his cock at the same time).

Suddenly, he wants to taste a lot more of you. You’re all open up to him for the first time—he has to. He trails a series of open-mouthed kisses from the corner of your mouth to your jaw, savoring every little sigh escaping your lips, then to your neck, dragging his tongue up the column of your throat.

The water is fresh all over you, and he doesn’t miss the shivers running up and down your skin at the contact of the twilight breeze. He needs to warm you up, needs to make you feel good, needs everything to be perfect for you. With his hands still on your ass, he trails lower down to your collarbone, allowing some occasional nips on the way that have you shaking. He freezes, looking up at you from there.

“Is this okay?”

The answer comes out breathy, a little desperate: “Yes, yes, please!” It sends a wave of heat all over him, the way you like what he’s doing to you, the way he’s making you feel good.

He’s not experienced or anything, only had a few hookups a couple of times, so he’s not very confident in his capacities, aside from running his hands all over you because that’s how his instincts are manifesting. You know him better than anyone—of course you would know how lost he could be in this kind of situation. But he also knows you’re not much more experienced than him, and that thought is comforting.

He’s experienced in one thing, though. He feels like the worst, filthiest person on the planet for this, but it’s astonishing the number of times he jerked off to the thought of what’s happening right now. How many times did he fuck his hand in the shower thinking about the water trickling down your skin, about licking it off your breasts all the way up to your neck.

So he does what he’s been dying to do for years. your breasts are just above the surface, so he sits on his heels and licks down your chest. When his tongue finally reaches your nipple, giving it a tentative lick, you let out a gasp, encouraging him to get bolder. And he does, closing his mouth on it like it’s the sweetest lollipop; it’s all cold and hard and raised from the water, but it warms up really quickly against the furnace of his mouth. His right hand leaves your ass to cup the neglected other, running his thumb against the bud, squeezing the flesh. That’s when you reach out to bury a hand in his hair, and pull again. God, you can pull on his hair all day and night like this; he’ll never get enough.

His left hand, still on your ass, rises up to the small of your back, feeling you arching more and more, pushing against his mouth. A harder nip has you gasping and he lets his hands run all over you, wandering without direction. It’s messy and urgent; he can’t help it—you feel so good, so soft under his hands. He’s like a kid getting to open his Christmas gifts in the morning after an endless, sleepless night waiting for Santa.

You trail your hand down his chest and his abdomen, a gentle reminder that the power he holds right now could slip through his fingers any moment. He’s willing to give it to you, especially since he doesn’t really know what to do next.

Like you just read his mind, you take his hands in yours, stopping their chaotic race. He’s feeling himself flush a bit—was he going too fast for you? Did he scare you? Or did he just let himself become overwhelmed by his feelings and it didn’t feel good for you? His eyes are looking down directly at your naked chest, he realizes he never took a proper look at them, too busy throwing himself to taste them. They look just as good as they taste, as beautiful as the rest of you.

Tentatively, he raises his eyes to find your reassuring gaze and fond smile. You lead his hands down slowly, setting them on your hips, over the criminal lace fabric preserving your modesty. Your foreheads connect again, but you never break eye contact. Lacing your fingers together, you guide his thumbs into the elastic on both sides, and now that he gets what you’re trying to do, his mind just stops.

Your voice is barely a whisper, a mesmerizing caress on his lips when you speak again. “I think I’ve waited long enough, Zuku.”

Your tone is fond, but you sound so desperate, it’s unbearably cute. His mind fogs up, the smoke of your words filling his skull and he wants to drive you as mad as you drive him. Sure, you’ve waited a lot, but so has he. He isn’t going to rush this, not if he has any say in it.

He slides your panties down your thighs underwater inch by inch. It’s even too slow for him; right now he just wants to rip the stupid piece of lace off of you and fuck you and him both stupid in the water, hard and fast. But even more than that, he wants to take his time with you, wants to take you apart piece by piece. And the testy whine it elicits from you makes it all so worth it.

You shift a bit so he can take your underwear completely off and, in a second, it lays abandoned on the sandy ground of the shore. Just knowing you’re now completely naked in front of him, it sends boiling desire flowing through every single vein in his body. He can’t see that part of you yet, the water darkening along with the sky clouding his view beneath the surface, but nightfall can’t do anything about Izuku’s wild imagination. He’s dizzy, feeling himself slowly falling into a half-conscious daze, but you anchor him right where you are, bringing him back to the reality of your arms hooked around his neck.

He rests his hands on your hips, dragging his fingertips down the soft flesh of them. The idea of touching you down there is making his head spin, he can’t wait any longer.

“Can I—”

“Yes, I want your fingers inside me,” you say before driving your lips back against his.

Without further ado, one of them goes straight to your core, making you jump a bit, breaking the kiss just for a second. He runs his index between your folds, feeling hot slick already coming out of you despite the fresh water around. His touch is light, slow, hesitant as it glides up and down, testing the waters. He’s getting a bit further, putting a bit more pressure with every stroke and earning a few pleased sighs from your heavenly mouth.

He expected a sudden reaction as soon as he found your clit, but that doesn’t mean he was prepared for the drawn-out moan coming out of your gorgeous lips, wet from his mouth and from your dip earlier. He wants to hear that again, every day for the rest of his life. He drags his thumb over it, again and again, slow at first, but then quicker and quicker, and your voice grows louder with every speed-up of his finger.

Your hands go frantic over him, running up his chest and down his abs in repeated motions that feel a lot like it’s lust driving your limbs much more than your mind. You stopped kissing him at some point, your mouth too busy expressing every ounce of pleasure you felt to focus on such basic motions. Your face is buried in his neck, your hot breath crushing against his skin.

He presses his index inside, but he’s so focused on what he’s doing, trying not to hurt you, that he doesn’t notice the shift of your own hand leaning down until he feels it cupping the painful bulge in his boxers. His eyes go wide with a gasp, and when he looks at you, you already have a playful, but intense, gaze piercing right through him.

“Did you think I was gonna let you play all on your own, Zuku?” Your fingers graze over the soaked fabric, down his entire length and to his balls, throwing gasoline on the fire that’s been consuming him for ages. “Don’t be selfish,” you whisper directly in his ear as your hands slip his underwear down his thighs.

As soon as the piece of cloth gets to join your forgotten panties on the shore, you wrap your pretty hand around him. And when you start stroking, his eyes roll so hard he swears he can see the inside of his skull. It feels better than he ever could have imagined; it’s blistering, astonishing. The only idea his brain can manage to work out right now is that he wants you to feel just as good.

He only notices now that his fingers stopped moving, and they go right back to a steady pace, but it’s a matter of seconds before he drives another finger into you. Soon, you’re both fucking the life out of each other with your hands. You’re sucking and nipping at his ear, and every single moan he draws out of you ends up turning against him, breaking into the defenses he built year after year by your side. He’s simply fucking into your hand now. He can’t help it, you feel so good. He doesn’t even want to think about what it’s going to feel like to fuck into your tight little cunt, he might cum hard just from the thought of it.

The spongy spot he finds inside you feels like he just struck gold. It’s glorious, the sounds you make right now, higher, louder. You’re tightening around his fingers, but it’s okay—you can crush them for all he cares. He wants you to moan higher for him, wants you to keep riding his fingers like your life depends on it.

“Izuku, ah—I’m close, I’m so close, please…”

“I got you, baby. I got you, shit—”

He quickens the pace again, feels like his fingers are gonna fall off his hand the moment he gets them out of you, but fuck, what his princess wants, his princess is gonna get. Your orgasms shatter the both of you to pieces, and in the bliss of his high, he can hear some birds flying away, scared by the harmonious, but probably very loud, song of your combined moans.

While his cum strikes out by ropes into the water, his clouded mind can only think about one thing.

He needs more of you.

You can barely stand on your knees, worn out from cumming the hardest you have in your entire life. You actually have to lean on Izuku so you don’t fall into the water head first like some boneless ragdoll. You just let your forehead rest on his shoulder and count the freckles there, splattered in a fascinating work of abstraction.

But apparently, he has other plans. You’re swiftly lifted up and out of the water, huge scarred hands firmly holding the back of your thighs that immediately come to circle his waist.

“Oh, nice. I don’t mind getting carried around like a baby. Where are we going?”

“Not far,” he says with a little grin, walking out of the water. “Do you think you’ll be able to walk?” His voice holds a sarcastic tone, one you’re not used to hearing out of Izuku’s angel mouth.

“I think I can manage, yeah.”

He drops you to stand on your legs, and immediately goes for his backpack. The sun has just set, its last rays of light filling the pink sky over your heads. You can still easily make out everything around you, and Izuku’s body is no exception.

You’re watching him with a raised eyebrow, letting your shameless gaze follow every curve you couldn’t see underwater. The day he started exercising in high school was the day you knew it was over for you. It was the day you couldn’t deny what you felt anymore, you couldn’t deny your best friend was everything you needed, and everything you wished for. The physical factor was only a—very pleasant— addition to the list of things that made you fall hard for Izuku Midoriya.

Your eyes linger over his impressive figure, staring at the dimples at the small of his back. You always knew they were here, but you never allowed yourself to look at them, to imagine how they would grow repeatedly hollow with every thrust of his hips into you.

He finally digs out what he was looking for: a plaid picnic blanket, because of course he would have one in there. He’s wearing a little victorious smile when he stands and turns around to spread it on a grassy spot that looks a lot more comfortable than the hard ground. He turns back to you but averts his gaze to the side, hardly looking directly at you for more than a second at a time. The heat of his gaze tracing your curves through quick glances pools deep in your core. 

“You know you can look, right?” You sure aren’t refraining from doing so after all.

His face reaches its usual redness—hasn’t he learned anything from making you cum like crazy with just his fingers? It’s cute nonetheless; Izuku will never change.

He doesn’t answer your rhetorical question, only gives you a shy command in that tentative, very cute voice of his.

“Could you lay down on this for me?”

You saw this coming, but still, you’re a bit surprised he’s asking you that out loud. You gladly oblige with your legs pressed together, slightly bent. It’s another golden opportunity to tease him a bit:. “This isn’t exactly the right use for this blanket. Aren’t we supposed to eat on this?”

He smiles at the ground while kneeling at your feet.

“Maybe that’s exactly what I’m planning to do.”

Your sly smile fades away. His tone is a contradictory mix of shyness and determination, so it’s a bit confusing but also unbearably hot—you swear an astounding wave of heat is crashing through your deepest parts, untouched, just from some words and a funny tone. You rub your thighs together before he grabs and parts them to slip himself between them.

He crawls over you and leans down to kiss you, a bit more confident than earlier. His hips are pressing between your legs, where you can feel his hardness best.

He’s rutting more and more against you as the kiss intensifies. You could think it’d be a lot less exciting now that you know he’s going to eat you out, there’d be no suspense. Wrong. The little shit apparently likes to tease you to death, because he left your lips to kiss your face, nip at your neck, suck at your ears. Dragging his devilish hands everywhere, pressing harder each time you get louder. An especially heavy whine makes him buck hard, his mouth back against yours.

“The more impatient you get, the slower it’s gonna be,” he murmurs against your lips, and starts to make his way down to where you want him, kissing every inch of you, clouding your mind with desire. It’s way too much and still not enough; it’s maddening. When he finally reaches down, you’re on the verge of a second orgasm like you hadn’t just come down a few minutes ago.

He’s holding your thighs apart in a firm grip. Just the touch of his fingers burns your skin deliciously, and the look he’s giving you from between your legs...his eyes are clouded, half-lidded, looking at the part of you he’s never gotten to see before. It feels like he’s been looking forever and just a second at the same time.

He finally dips into you, leaving butterfly kisses all over your inner thighs, punctuated by little nips, nuzzling the soft skin. He’s not looking you in the eye anymore, his gaze lingering all over your body—all over except for your face. You can make out a slight blush on his cheeks despite the dimness all around. You know him better than anyone, so you immediately recognize what’s going on in his mind just from the slightest hint in his eyes. He looks like he’s fighting a battle against himself, his shyness against his hunger. And you know who you’re both rooting for.

He finally gives in, and it takes your breath away. A single, slight lick on your clit and you’re gone. And the next ones, more and more intense, more and more hungry, push you further to tumble over your edge. He grunts into your heat, multiple times. Moans like he’s the one squirming under your mouth.

His hands hold a firm grip on your hips, squeezing the flesh and keeping you in place—he doesn’t even give you an inch to move. You can only take and take and take. But you still have the luxury of your free hands, and they rush to bury in the knots of his messy wet curls, your nails dragging, scratching his scalp.

His lips close on your clit and suck just a bit, and before you can refrain, you pull on his hair, hard. He gasps, and the moment you think you hurt him, he breathes his loudest moan, right into you. You’re filled with the vibrations—they spread all over your body, have you throwing your head back, trembling from head to toe.

The louder you are, the hungrier he gets, filling you with his insatiable tongue. You have to look at him right now. And you expected quite a show, but you certainly weren't prepared to see this—him rutting against the ground like an animal. You realize he’s getting off just from your taste, just from eating you out. His hips roll repeatedly, making you salivate just to the thought of those same hips bucking into yours, fucking you into oblivion. And the more he ruts, the louder he gets.

Now if he wants to moan, you’re going to give him a good reason to. 

You hint for him to face you with a light tug on his hair. As soon as he’s back up, he dives in to kiss you. You don’t let him. In a second he’s on his back with you seated on his hips.

“What did I say about letting you play on your own, hm?”

The ‘deer caught in headlights’ look is so cute on him. And the rest is a marvel to look at. You’re straddling him and he has no other choice than to let you devour him with your eyes—not that he couldn’t bounce you off of him with just a thrust of his hips, but he already would have if he wanted to. You let your gaze wander mindlessly over him—it’s surreal. There’s no way he’s actually under you, waiting for you to please him back with his mouth and jaw still shining with your juices. It has to be a dream—it’s always been after all.

You shift so you’re straddling his parted thighs. You can finally take a look at him. The whole thing, that is. His cock is resting against his lower stomach, hard and swollen and thick. It’s a pretty, bright pink, shining with pre-cum at the tip. Your mouth waters just at the sight of it.

He’s looking down at you, his face as flushed as his dick, that usual blush still exquisitely coating his freckles. You take him in your hand, dive in to give a lick to the tip and his head falls back down with a whimper. You let your tongue drag over the whole length on the underside, and your lips close around the tip in a wet smooch. His hips jerk up a bit, startling you.

You finally take him whole in your mouth, and you can feel his whole body tensing under you. You start bobbing up and down, going a bit further each time, earning a series of shameless moans because this boy is loud. You expected him to express himself during sex since he’s such a mumbler—and frankly, it was always one of your biggest fantasies, hearing him come undone because of you, lose any sense of shame and self-restriction when he’s such a anxious person otherwise.

But you could’ve thought about it every night and day and still never be ready for this. It’s sinful. His hand goes to grab your hair just like you did to him, and now you get why he liked it so much. The feel of his nails scratching your scalp is electrifying, soothing and destructive at the same time.

Your tongue hits a precise spot just under the tip and he jerks up again, nearly screams, “Fuck—yes, right there, please—d-do that again!”

And you do, you can only oblige—he asked so nicely. Your lips go up and down, over and over, your tongue grazing this spot with a bit more pressure every single time. You squint over him, and what you find there is a mess. Trying so hard not to buck into your mouth but failing miserably. Sounding like he’s at Heaven’s gate.

“Easy, Zuku. You’re gonna scare the birds away,” you chuckle against him, your lips brushing the tip, dripping with your saliva and pre-cum.

“Do I need to remind you…how loud you were for me earlier?” He’s looking back down at you as he speaks, a tremble in his voice telltale of his approaching climax. “You sounded...so good, baby, I swear...wanna hear you again, wanna make you scream, just for me, fuck—”

You can feel yourself soaking the blanket, can feel the slick trickle down your folds and stain the plaid cotton. Is he aware of what he’s doing? Or is he just saying whatever is going through his chaotic mind? In any case it has you starving. So you let go of his cock and, before he can protest, crawl back to his face and kiss him desperately. Tasting both of your fluids in a mindblowing mix.

You pull back just enough to be able to speak, because you need him to understand you loud and clear when you say:  “Please, Izuku, I need you inside me, I’ve waited so long. Please.”

“Okay, okay, fuck—” He cuts himself off, his eyes slightly drooping like a sad puppy. “I-I don’t have any condoms.”

“You mean you probably have pads in there for me but no condoms?” you say with your eyebrows raised, your mocking tone hinting at a teasing remark, far from criticism.

He frowns in confusion. “How do you know I have pads in there?”

“So the legend turns out to be true. After all these years—”

“Shut up, you’re impossible,” he chuckles heatlessly, resting his hands on your back.

“It’s okay. I’m on the pill,” you assure him with a soft tone.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m pretty sure I’m on the pill, yeah.”

He rolls his eyes, then clarifies, a hint of hesitation clear in his voice.

“No I mean...you’re sure you wanna do this?” He marks a brief pause, takes a short breath. “With me?”

You don’t even think before answering, it slips your mouth like it’s not even your own words: “I don’t want it with anyone else.”

There’s a silence.

“Fuck, that sounds cheesy,” you scoff, looking away.

“It does, but we’re both cheesy idiots, apparently.”

You look back at him. His smile is so fond, so loving; it melts your heart in the best way.

“I wanna be your cheesy idiot,” you say against his mouth, looking right into his eyes, willing to fall in them.

“You always have been,” he nearly whispers. It fills your stomach with familiar warmth, intense and overwhelming, comforting.

There’s a bittersweet taste in your mouth, one of regret and lost time and God, we’re idiots.

Now it’s about time you make up for it all.

You look down at him, rolling your hips against him, dripping all over his cock, coating him in your juices.

“I think I asked you something, didn’t I?”

A whimper escapes him at the feeling. His hips buck up slightly, hands gripping at your back. When you do it again, you don’t get the chance to see his reaction; you’re on your back again, him towering over you, his thigh between your legs.

He’s looking at you with something in his eyes you don’t recognize, but the tone he speaks with has your entire body quaking.

“And you’re gonna get it, sweetheart.”

He holds himself over his left forearm, his hand thumbing at your cheek while the other strokes the whole length of your thigh. Your noses are brushing, your breaths crashing together. Your hands hold tight to his nape, playing with the short hair mindlessly as you’re waiting to be filled, finally.

You feel the stretch instantly. You try to focus on those mesmerizing emerald gems he calls eyes. They look right through your soul, eating you up and you barely feel the pain. He’s taking it slow, inch by inch, giving you all the time you need, caressing your cheek with a tender stroke of his thumb.

“Relax for me, baby.”

Izuku’s voice is a soothing sound over the incessant chirping of the grasshoppers. It was always one of your favorite things to hear, its every tone another blessing to your ears. It’s loving when he asks if you’re okay, comforting when he whispers sweet nothings to you as you cry on his shoulder, heartening when he’s going on about anything he’s passionate about.

He’s kissing every part of skin he has access to, over your face, your jaw, your neck. You feel yourself relaxing around him, and roll your hips up to give him the hint.

When he starts moving it’s still slow and careful. He doesn’t break eye contact, so you can see his every reaction, and he can see all yours. His hand is still playing with your hair, even as his pace speeds up with every second. The weight of him over you feels amazing, it holds him close against you, countless parts of you both rubbing together: your chests, your stomachs, your thighs. He doesn’t even have a lot of space to move. But getting to touch and get touched by him like this, it's incredible. You always had him so close to you, always right there and still so out of reach.

You still need more; you’re insatiable. You need to see him come undone under you, because of you. You push him to roll on his back, and you end up straddling him, setting the pace yourself. You start bouncing up and down on his cock, taking balance on the hard planes of his abs. He immediately reaches up to grab your hips, guiding you along.

His face tenses up, frowning, his nose wrinkling, his lips parted just to let out a series of breathy sighs. He looks wrecked and dizzy and stunning. He’s keeping his eyes open, fixed up on you, specifically on your breasts, bouncing with your every motion. And you can feel his gaze on your skin just as much as you feel his hands gripping harder at the flesh below your hips.

“Eyes up here, Zuku,” you coo with two fingers pointed at your eyes.

He doesn’t answer, only sits up easily and wraps his arms around your waist.

“You look so amazing, you have no idea what you do to me,” he says with a trembling voice, filled with bliss.

Your heart misses a beat at his words, they fill you with warmth and comfort because he definitely doesn’t have any idea what he’s doing to you. He delves his face into your neck, kissing and nuzzling, his breath coming shorter and shorter, crashing against your skin and his hands running all over you. The sound of his hoarse voice resonates through the forest and through your soul, echoing an enchanting song.

With little effort, he puts you back under him so he can pound into you with full force, and your legs immediately come up to wrap around his waist, pulling him deeper. Your hands grab his hair, tugging to see if you get the same reaction as earlier, and it doesn’t miss: he lets out a groan right into your ear, speeding up his pace again.

The sky is dark now, and all you can hear are his moans and yours and the slap of your hips coming together repeatedly. Your head is thrown back when he grabs you by the hair, forcing you to turn your head and face him.

“Look at me. I wanna see you.”

“Izuku, I’m gonna—”

“I know, baby. Let go for me, come on.”

Just the feel of his hand trailing down your stomach awakens something in you, this familiar pressure growing tight in your belly. And when his fingers reach your clit, a couple of strokes are enough to have you screaming his name, tightening around him, and pulling him towards his climax with you. His thrusts come franticly as you milk him dry, clawing desperately at his back, panting in his mouth as he leaned down to kiss you through both your climaxes.

As soon as he comes down, he rolls over on his side, still laying close to you, an arm thrown over you. You both take a minute to catch your breaths and, weirdly enough, you don’t hear anything aside from your panting. You really must have scared the birds away. Izuku breaks the silence first.

“Do you wanna...sleep at my place?”

He’s looking over at you and, despite the sky getting dark, you can easily imagine the blush coating his cheeks right now, like he didn’t make you scream his name, drunk on his cock two minutes ago.

You can’t repress your fond smile at his proposition.

“Yeah, let’s do that.”

You take a minute to gather your clothes from all over the place and get dressed, then grab your bag to tug it over your shoulder.

“You got everything?”

Izuku is waiting for you just outside the trees. You take a quick look around, making sure you haven’t forgotten anything, and turn around without a second look at the place.

Because although it was your first time setting foot here, it definitely won’t be the last; you will come back here with Izuku every chance you get, making it your shared secret, your own little wonderland.

You gladly take the hand he’s offering, making him blush a little harder, and you head straight back into the forest together.

You walk side by side as a comfortable silence settles, only disturbed by the grasshoppers’ incessant, boisterous chirping. The sky is utterly dark now, you can make out a few stars shining above the dense trees. You walk at a steady pace, but Izuku is going a bit faster with every step. Soon enough, he’s walking a bit ahead of you, still holding your hand. Another golden occasion to tease his eagerness.

“Are we in a hurry, Zuku?”

In the dark of the night, you struggle to make out the look on his face as he turns around to look at you. A second later, he’s running, and with your hand firmly held in his, you can’t do much but try to follow along. You giggle as you run, and it quickly grows into a belly-deep laughter. He’s fast, doesn’t get tired, but you follow him anyway, probably as eager as he is. You have to zig-zag so you don’t run straight into the massive trees standing in your way.

You get to the car in no time, but you’re both out of breath when you finally get in your respective seats, ready to go home.

Izuku doesn’t even wait to catch his breath before he starts the car, the engine roaring loudly in the silence of the night, probably scaring the birds away for the upteenth time that night. You catch his happy grin in the headlights glow before he heads back into the road.

You have a feeling the night is not over; you’ve only got twenty years to make up for after all.

[wthtorke]

Incandescent (Kofi commission)

Kofi one shot commission by  Insta is day_of_mayhem! 

(I might have gone off on this one lmao Enjoy!)

Incandescent. 

The night had been quiet, the trees softly hustling against one another as the wind blew. First, it was the strange noise.

From your little house in the woods, a sharp noise rattled through your bed, making you jump up in surprise.  Running to the window, you saw what could only be described as a falling star, coming quickly towards your house.

You could barely brace yourself against the windowsill as the star ripped through the clouds, falling far into the woods. Panting and scared, you looked for any signs of it. Any burning trees, smoke, noise coming from the general direction where it fell. You found none. 

From the window, you caught sight of your truck, still parked in the driveway. Grunting to yourself, you made your decision as you grabbed a coat and the wooden axe from the fireplace, running to your car, hoping to find the fallen star before anyone else did.

Gripping the steering wheel hard enough your knuckles turned white, you drove through the path in the forest, stopping when even more strange noises reached your ears.

Stopping your car, you tilted your head slightly, trying to catch it again. Seconds passed before a sudden blast made you jump, looking into the direction a flash of light also happened. Leaving the car, you held the axe close to your chest as you slowly walked towards the noise, breathing quickly as you did.

From the trees behind you, a slick, black ridged tail moved quietly as its owner's drool fell onto the tree branches, slowly stalking towards you. 

'Hssssssss..' 

Eyes widening, you turned around in time to see a black creature jumping from the tree, arms outstretched and claws ready to tear into you. 

Falling to the ground, the creature landed heavily on you, claws grappling your axe handle as you barely had time to process its weight before shiny, sharp fangs closed itself repeatedly before your face. 

You only realized you were screaming when the creature shifted its weight to your chest, cutting your air as it reeled back to strike one final time to kill you.

Closing your eyes in fear, you could only open them again as an animalistic roar reached your ears, and then the crushing weight wasn't there anymore, a screech and a heavy, wooden thud following suit. The creature had been rammed from on top of you, instead hitting the tree it jumped from hard in its back, falling to the ground, briefly shaken. 

You took your chance to get up as well and dart between the trees, out of the creature's way. You only bothered looking for whatever had knocked it out of you when the black creature hissed into another direction, and you realized there was absolutely nothing there. 

Still, under the dim moonlight, the creature leaped into nothingness, surprisingly landing on the thin air, snapping and hissing, swinging its tail around. You watched as it tried to hit something with its piercing tail. With a roar, you jerked back as it seemed to hit its goal, whatever was beneath it started zapping and glowing with failing electrical power, soon revealing what the thing was perched on as it didn't stop its struggles for one second. 

At this point, you had come to the conclusion that they were indeed aliens, and the star was no star but probably a ship that crash landed, even if you had no idea where it was now. The stream of roaring and screaming snapped you out of your thoughts, the massive humanoid alien trying to shake the creature from it’s back as best as it could, while still trying to dodge its deadly tail.

You looked around, your fight or flight instincts screaming at you to do something, anything. Looking at the dark forest behind you, you had no idea if there were other alien serpents around or more alien warriors to help this one. It was when the serpent's tail pierced the warrior's arm and you saw bright green blood explode everywhere that you took action.

Running towards both of them with your axe in hand. 

Your decision was made as the blade of your weapon sunk into the black creature’s back, it’s startled shrill making your ears ring as it’s tail hit you hard in the chest, both making you fly a few feet back and thankfully escape it’s weird fizzing blood that you’d later come to know was pure acid. 

You shook your head as you tried to breathe again, all the air knocked out from your lungs as you landed on your back. Your vision threatened to darken as you sat up, trying to spot where the aliens were.

Slowly your ears started focusing again as did your eyes, permitting you to see that not only was the black serpent not on top of the alien warrior anymore as said warrior was about to jam it’s blades into the serpent’s throat. The most intense occurrence of all your life didn’t last more than 5 minutes it seemed.

Getting up on your wobbly feet, you noticed just about how much blood there was around the ground. You watched as the warrior clutched his side, chest rising and falling as he stared at you, and while he could absolutely kill you if he so wanted, he didn’t.

Not that you were opposed to that, of course.

You felt the adrenaline die down in your blood, the cold air finally making you shiver a bit. You looked at who you supposed was a ‘he’ and back towards the general direction of your car. If his ship had truly crashed, he was stranded. Hurt and stranded.

“Safe,” You said, pointing back where your car was, “Together…?” You questioned, montioning between you and him with your less hurt hand. He took a few moments to analyze the situation before making his decision. He was hurt, more so than he’d like to admit, but less than he’d be if you hadn’t shown up. He nods, slowly, unsure, later following you to the truck, all but hauling himself up the back of the pickup truck. ‘I’ll definitely need to hose that down in the morning.’ You thought as you saw the green blood streaks as you got into the driver's seat.

The drive back was smooth, no longer fueled by raw fear and adrenaline. You felt tired, maybe because of the bruises forming where you got hit or well, the fact that this was more action than you had since….Well, ever. Getting home, you didn’t really know why you snuck him through the garage door, you had no neighbors and no family living with you but somehow it seemed the right thing to do, he was an alien after all.

He seemed to know the concept of showering, at least. He washed all the dirt and grime off of his body and you were more than a little upset at yourself that you didn’t see him take off his mask, only noticing your mistake when he got out of the bathroom and the metal was so clean it was sparkling. 

You watched as he sat in your living room and started patching himself up. While he wasn’t bleeding profusely anymore, the roaring surely gave you chills down your spine as he plunged some kind of needle into his thigh, pumping the syringe’s contents into his system before sewing his wound shut.

You pointed at the couch and told him to make himself at home, as far as that could go, anyway. You passed out as soon as you hit the pillow, your body paying no mind to the huge alien downstairs.

The next morning, he was gone.

 As much as you were expecting it, it still felt...odd. Like some kind of fever dream. Only you knew it happened by the state of your house and garage. If you didn’t know it was an alien, you’d have thought a wild bear had wrecked your house. The floor was muddy, some things were out of place or straight up on the floor while some you couldn’t tell if they were touched at all. 

Sighing, you gathered the broom, mop and trash bags to start your new mission; Cleaning the house. 

Cleaning was usually boring, but this time it just felt restless. Even as your favorite songs played in the background. Of course, no alien could just have a slumber party in some human’s house but still, much had happened yesterday. You wondered when the government’s men were going to burst through your window and shoot a sedative up your arm because you’ve had alien interaction. 

You were cleaning the kitchen cupboards when a reflection that very much wasn't your own caught your attention in the mirror. Squinting a bit, you jumped back when your eyes focused and revealed your guest's reflection, only his position was right behind you. "FUCK-” You turned around quickly, hitting your knee in the process, ”When did you get here?! God-," You started coughing a bit from the sudden intake of air.

You looked back at him when you heard strange noises coming from his helmet, almost like someone was tuning a radio before the words became clear, recordings.

"No-, trails."

You blinked in confusion for a second before realizing what he meant, slight dread setting in your gut at the prospect that an alien could speak, or well, play recordings of english to you. "Trails-, in the forest? Wow..that’s, that’s very nice, actually, hadn’t thought of that,” you thought over your next words, taking in his huge form as you did, “You’re headed home now, I suppose?”

He shook his head, motioning to his still tender wounds from yesterday’s battle against the serpent.

The serpent.

“Oh, Um-, That thing is dead, right?”

He nodded, “Exterminated. Contained.”

Contained.

“Great, great-, well, if you’re not planning to kill me and take over my house, you’re um...very welcome to stay?” You said, a bit unsure.

He nodded, walking over silently towards your garage door, you heard rummaging around, following to see him picking up after a broken vase you didn’t remember was there.

He was a considerate roommate, you could say. Wherever this alien came from, he knew of common sense, or just had a very strict mama as he helped in the chores he could. You suspected he didn’t trust you to clean his trails properly, but you weren’t complaining of free help.

Another thing you could tell is that he learned fast. Very fast. 

He’d been skeptical of you, at first. You’d never catch him sleeping or eating, always the same passive expression of his mask looking back at you. You couldn’t blame him, but even then, it was hard not to speculate what was underneath it. Did he look like Davy Jones? The Shape? He didn’t seem to be aquatic. Maybe a lizard? His skin was mottled like one, at least. 

3 months passed by before you both had that feeling. He’d been here for too long. His wounds were beyond healed, no one had shown up for him, no government, no other aliens, nothing. You’d seen him mess with his wrist gauntlet a few times, seen him test the cloaking device he had, it worked. 

So, why was he still here?

  It was on a similar night that you met him that you mustered the courage to ask.

The stars were bright, as was the moonlight. The breeze was soft, you both sat outside for a bit, looking into the forest. He told you he feared they’d come at night. You guessed he spoke of other humans, the kind that would want to study him alive, in the name of ‘science’, and he wasn’t entirely wrong.

“Are you waiting for your people to come get you? Have you sent a signal yet?”

“Yes.”

Your breath hitched a bit, the cold air around you prickling at your skin. “Oh-, well...have they replied?”

“Yes.”

You nodded, “So, I guess they’ll be coming soon, right?”

You waited for another robotic ‘Yes’ to hit your ears, to shatter your fantasy of living a nice life with him, somehow.

“No.”

“No?” You asked, lifting your head to look at him, “Why not?”

He turns to look at you for a second, at least you could assume he was looking at you behind the mask.

With that, he lifted his hands to the object of your speculation during the last 3 months, fingers slowly snapping off tubes that connected it to the rest of his armor with an audible ‘Fzzzzz’.

You held your breath as he hooked his fingers around the mask, snapping it off as well. He hovered the mask for a second before slowly lowering it away from his face.

You could feel your pupils dilate as you took in the sight of him, the spiky crown around his forehead, the mottling, so similar to the rest of his body, going down to his eyes, you lingered there for a moment, taking in how yellow they looked, and how they were staring directly into your own.

You gulped as you kept lowering your gaze, spotting the fangs, the tusks, the strong jaws that could very much clamp around your neck right now, if he so wanted. Everything about him screamed predator before, but now, having the last piece of the puzzle, you could only think of one word to describe him.

Perfect.

You let out the breath you didn’t know you were holding when his hand touched yours, so tender, mindful of his talons, yet still enveloping your cold ones in warmth. You looked up at him, fingers slowly squeezing his own, an attempt to show him you weren’t afraid, just stunned.

“Stay.” He said, in a much deeper voice than any he’d ever played for you before. His voice.

You only realized you were crying when the tears caught in between the crinkles of your smile, stopping their journey straight down your face, giving them a shortcut to falling down your chin, to where his other hand was raising up, gently tipping your face up, as he lowered his own, pressing your foreheads together.

“Stay.” You repeated, in a much quieter, shakier voice than his, but with every bit of intention behind it, still smiling as he squeezed your hand again.

Suddenly, the night didn’t feel nearly as cold anymore, nor did it feel as lonely as it once did.

[comfortwriting]

Prankster and the Prefect - F.W

Masterlist, Requesting Rules, Writing Prompts

Fred Weasley x Fem Ravenclaw Reader

Prompt 11: Screaming for your life, you were suddenly silenced by the hand that covered your mouth. 

Requested/About: Fred, the class clown and ultimate prankster meets the stereotypical perfect Ravenclaw prefect through his brother George. Upon their first interaction together, she already hates him and he already wants her more than any other girl at Hogwarts - but when the two of them are trapped in the broom closet together, everything changes. 

Warnings: swearing, losing virginity, smut, mention of erotic literature. 

In any other world, you and Fred would most likely be causing havoc together - pranking people, skipping class and getting up to no good, but in this world no such thing would happen; because you’re the perfect prefect who puts your education first. 

In any other world, you and Fred would most likely be prefects together - comparing your grades on each test, polishing your badges together and ensuring that no one is breaking any rules or causing trouble at Hogwarts; but in this world no such thing would happen because Fred is the trouble maker, who would rather be classed as a criminal than a prefect. 

Little did you know, your worlds would collide. 

Walking into Muggle Studies bright and early, you sat down and got your books, parchment, feather quill and ink pot out of your heavy bag and neatly organised them on your desk. Looking across the room, everyone else was already here, ties of blue, yellow, green and red sparkled across the room; everyone in pairs but you. 

Professor Burbage eyed the room and sighed when she spotted the empty chair next to you but without hesitating she began the class. 

“Today the person you are sat with is going to be your partner for your upcoming project” she announced.

George Weasley entered the class with his head down, slightly embarrassed by his late arrival, he sat down next to you without any of his study materials - he went even redder in the face noticing your neat display. 

You chuckled and shook your head, reaching back into your bag and pulling out a spare parchment, feather quill and ink pot. Pushing the extras across the desk, George smiled, his eyes meeting yours. 

“Thanks” he murmured softly.

You smiled at the shy Gryffindor “Anytime, keep them.”

George Weasley wasn’t a stranger in your life at Hogwarts, you didn’t know him but you knew of him before he paired up with you in that class. You were aware he and his twin brother got up to no good with their pranks and skiving snack boxes - but getting to know him and to spend time with him one on one made you like him a lot more than you thought you ever would, striking an unlikely friendship. 

“Come on Georgie!” Fred begged “introduce us, she must be one of a kind if you’re able to be friends with a prefect”

George sighed and continued to walk around the library, you were sitting at a desk with your head in a book, reading everything you could about Muggles. 

“Alright, Y/N?” George called out. 

You looked up from your book recognising the voice and met eyes with George, smiling at him, you noticed his twin brother standing behind him, smirking. 

“Hey George-”

Fred barged in front of his brother and out stretched his hand, a grin spreading across his face.

“Hello gorgeous, I’ve heard so much about you”

You stated back at him and cocked up a brow and refused to shake his hand.

“We’re running out of studying time, George”

It was from that first interaction that Fred became crazy about you - each and every time he laid eyes on you, the hunger in his heart growled for more.

Fred wanted you, he would make sure that you would become his - no matter what and he didn’t shy away from making you know it. Each and every time he passed you, Fred would compliment you and flirt with you, sending winks your way; wanting you more than he did the day before. 

You ignored each and every compliment and wink, rolling your eyes and disliking Fred even more than usual - you would rather have a full on conversation with him than deal with his flirting. 

George spent less time with you over the rest of the month, you found yourself alone in the library and alone in Muggle Studies - you knew wherever George went, Fred would be with him. 

The twins started to mess with a box full of snakes outside the Trophy room, eager to finally get the adrenaline they had been chasing. 

“Okay Freddie, I think it’s ready” George murmured, looking around.

Fred smirked “about time, now remember, Georgie -”

“Do not get caught and do not draw any attention, got it!”

Fred walked into the tight fitting broom closet and hid behind the door, waiting for his brother. 

Walking down the halls in your Ravenclaw house colour sleeveless and short dress, you noticed George looking quite flustered but with his ‘trick up his sleeve’ expression, you had missed him and you really wanted to catch up.

“Hey, George!” you yelled out, waving your hand and running over to him. 

George wanted to ignore you and turn away but he couldn’t, he couldn’t ever shun a friend, but he didn’t have time for chitchat. Fred could hear you talking to George through the door, your back turned against it, he opened the door slowly and silently, peeking out.

Fred had to bite his lip at the sight of you, your glowing shoulders, your stunning legs - his desire for you burning even more with each second that passed. 

“I’m really sorry Y/N but I’ve got to get going” George interrupted “I promise we’ll catch up later.”

Before you could protest, George grabbed his box and hurried away down the halls, you stayed still and sighed, watching him move further and further away. 

Fred opened the door wider and managed to get himself up, he grabbed you by the arm, hoping to have more of a conversation with you than his brother. Screaming for your life you were suddenly silenced by the hand that covered your mouth.

Fred pulled you back into the broom closet and slammed the door “Shhh” he whispered “quiet love, don’t want us to get caught, if George finds us he’ll kill me.” Fred stood behind you, pressed up against the wall. 

The grin on Fred’s lips spread out in seconds, your heart pounding inside your chest - not only for the sudden fright but for being in such a tight space with the hottest lad you had ever seen; you wanted to leave, make a fuss, but you didn’t want to get George in trouble.

“I’ll only stay quiet if you tell me what's going on”

As if on cue, a series of loud bangs trailed through the school, then loud crackles and whistling. 

“This” Fred replied, chuckling. 

You sighed, you could be out in the sun but you were stuck in some dingy broom closet which started to tick you off “can I leave now?” you huffed.

“patience, love - don’t want to ruin your perfect, stainless reputation, do you?”

Staying silent you shook your head, the tightness of the broom closet closing in on you, causing you to squeeze up against Fred - your behind pressing against his crotch, your back against his chest, your hair against his face - your scent driving him insane. Your feet began to hurt from standing up on the spot for so long, you moved from side to side, grinding against Fred’s upper thigh.

Fred groaned beneath his breath, unable to stop himself. 

“are you okay?” you asked innocently.

“I’m fine!” Fred growled “J-Just stop moving - turn around!”

You turned and tried to keep still but you couldn’t - the pain was unbearable and you could only gain comfort by having movement.

Fred grabbed your shoulders trying to hold you in place, the tension between the two of you brewing like a potion out of control. Unable to keep you still, Fred instantly grabbed your hips, his hot breath hitting you. 

“Please stop moving, I’m begging you, stop!”

“I’m sorry but I can’t!” you hissed “you dragged me in here, if I stop moving my feet will hurt!” you pushed against his grip, your hips accidently brushing against Fred’s cock - instantly starting to harden in his trousers. 

Fred released a pain growl, his hungry eyes burning into you, you felt your cheeks heat up, this had never happened to you before, you only read about this sort of interaction in your books. 

You smirked and turned back around, no longer facing Fred and began to grind your behind against him in circular motions - your curiosity getting the better of you. 

“You’re making it worse” Fred groaned against your shoulder, his soft lips grazing your skin. 

Getting the hang of what you were doing, Fred pushed his head back against the wall “Please don’t break the promise I made with George” he groaned “fuck, I’ve wanted this since I first saw you.”

“what promise?” you asked, feeling his large hard on poke into you. 

“I’m really into you Y/N, George knows it, he made me promise not to pursue you because... you’re a virgin, you can’t lose your virginity in a broom closet, it should be in a nice comfy bed - covered in rose petals and that lot to a long term boyfriend.”

Feeling yourself slightly annoyed from the ridiculous stereotype and for your ‘experience level’ to be broadcasted, you turned to face Fred and glared at him. 

“I think the topic of me being a virgin should be kept between me and myself, it’s no one else's business!” 

Smashing your lips against Fred’s, the two of you exchanged a beautiful, yet heated kiss - taking the more charismatic twin by surprise. Your hands landed on Fred’s belt, your fingers fiddling with the buckle, trying to undo it. 

Fred stopped you “wait, are you sure? we don’t have to-”

“Of course I’m sure, did I stutter?” 

Fred grinned and went back to kissing you, his belt falling to the floor, along with his trousers, now sitting around his ankles. Fred’s gentle hand trailed up your dress, his fingers grazing against your thigh before hooking the hem of your thong, he pulled it down and stuffed your thong into his robe pocket, he put on a condom on his large length and applied lube. 

“Jump” he ordered softly. 

Doing as you were told, Fred held you whilst your legs wrapped around his hips, he gave you one last look and he slowly pushed himself inside of you slowly, instantly moaning out at the feeling on your walls tightening around him. Biting your lip you whimpered, getting used to his size and the new feeling you were about to experience. 

Fred moved towards the door so you could rest against it rather than the cold stone wall, his forehead rested against yours after he peppered loving kisses against it, nuzzling his nose against yours lovingly. 

“You’re so bloody gorgeous” Fred smiled “you feel incredible.”

Fred continued to penetrate you and you slowly got used to this new feeling of pleasure surging inside of you. Looking up and making eye contact with Fred, you blushed and the two of you shared a giggle.

You remembered what the main character did in the book and so you began to do that to Fred, grinding against him, moving your hips in circular motions, his length burying deeper inside of you - Fred had never felt this before - and he thought he was pretty good when it came to sex. 

Just as Fred was about to continue, you could hear footsteps coming closer to the door and the voice of a Professor draw closer, before Fred could react fast enough, the door opened. Fred moved back, almost falling and you just about go to your feet - but it was too late - your position, Fred’s trousers around his ankles, and your underwear peeking out from his pocket said it all - hell, he was still inside of you. 

Professor McGonagall’s eyes widened at the sight of you - a perfect, Ravenclaw, straight A prefect doing such a thing but when she saw Fred, she swallowed hard, still glaring and now flustered, she turned back and closed the door.

Fred let out a nervous shaky breath and started to laugh, you tried not to but you started laughing with him, the two of you pink and slightly embarrassed from such an encounter, but you knew this wasn’t Fred’s first rodeo. 

Fred pulled his boxers and trousers up, you passed him his belt whilst you fixed your hair and got the creases out of your dress. Fred pulled your thong out of his pocket, trying to hand them back to you. 

“Oh, no thanks, keep them” you smiled.

Fred cocked a brow “why?” 

“Well, I need a good reason to meet up with you next week, you can give them back to me then.” 

Fred grinned and peppered kisses along your neck, the two of you chuckling and laughing like you had been on the worlds most amazing date. Leaving the broom closet, Fred walked by your side, the two of you chatting about his prank and where George went. 

“Hey, before you go, Y/N, I’ve got a question.”

“what is it Freddie?” 

“I know for a fact you were a virgin up until a few minutes ago” 

You nodded your head “uh yeah, that's right”

Fred grinned again “are you sure you’ve never done anything like that before?”

You laughed and looked into his gorgeous eyes, the two of you now outside in the sun. 

“Positive” you replied 

Fred looked defeated for a moment “So tell me, love, how did you know what to do and how to do it?” 

You scoffed and rolled your eyes “Freddie my dear, it’s called Erotic Literature, open a book and read for a change.”

Tags: @reeophidian @inglourious-imagines @alwaysnforeverfangirl @amourtentiaa @lucymfer

[gloomyhearts]

That's life || Steve Harrington

Chapter ten

October 30, 1984

Y/N POV

Almost a year after Will went missing. The boy did recovery very well at least it looks like he did but this afternoon in the arcade changed my mind.

I started to work at the arcade three months after Will was back. My brother was happy but for him because I could give him coins to play.

So today after school Dustin and his friends wanted to meet at the arcade and Dustin wouldn't be him if he would have to search for some coins. He searched through the whole house including the shed.

"Dusti you're alright?"

"I totally am."

"Do I have to take you to the arcade?" He just nodded as he lifted the pillow from the sofa.

"Dustin Henderson what are you doing? you're scaring Mews" he walked over to the cat and excused himself.

"Dustin I can borrow you some" he turned to face me

"and you're saying this now after half an hour of my search?"

"You could have asked me but you didn't and it looked funny" I laughed and my mom too.

"Mo-om" he threw his arms in the air sighing.

"Dustin don't screw your pants." My mom's a real savage.

"Ready?" He nodded and walked out the door.

We drove to the arcade and I parked the car, "are you staying the whole time?" He nodded and I rolled my eyes, "you're stupid. Call me when something is wrong" he nodded and walked away from me.

Two hours into shift Nancy stormed into the arcade earning glances of the nerdy gamers.

"Nanc what's wrong?"

"There is this Halloween party and I want you to come" she was enthusiastic

"there's no way I'm going"

"please Billy's there too" Billy is the new boy at our school he almost hit me over with his car as I was walking to the entry and then he tried to flirt with me. Nancy thinks I have a little crush on him.

"Y/N please this will be fun. Steve could take you there" yeah Nancy and him are still together and it's still driving me crazy I don't want to be near the couple if I could

"but I promised Jonathan were going with our brothers on trick or treat."

"Jonathan is coming too"

"that's not typical for him. You sure?" Nancy only nodded.

"Y/N" I heard Dustin shout through the arcade. He came running towards me.

"Will is.. He is standing outside and we think he has an episode again."

"fuck" I came forth the counter and walked over to Will.

"call miss Byers" Dustin nodded and walked into the back.

"Will. Hey it's me Y/N I'm here. Everything is alright. You're not going to the other world again" I touched him slightly and he came back from wherever he was.

"Will you're good? Joyce is coming" he didn't say anything and just hugged me. I caresseshis back and whispe, "I'm here Will, it's okay." I noticed that he was shaking and lightly crying.

Five minutes later Joyce arrived at the arcade and thanked me for looking after Will.

"I'm so thankful you were here. Will really likes you. Thank you so much" she hugged me and went to their car.

"Y/N" Dustin walked over to me again.

"Do you know who's mad max?"

"I heard the new kid Billy called a red haired girl Maxime. Maybe her I don't know. I'm sorry Dusti"

"it's alright."

"Oh and Dustin. Only an hour to go buddy" he nodded and joined his friends again.

"I feel so bad for Will. He was such a lovely boy and now he's just scared" I forgot that Nancy was still here.

"Yeah I'm so sorry for the boy and his family" we stood there in silence.

"So you're coming?"

"I have no choice or?" She shook her head.

"Great. Call me when Steve arrives at yours" she nodded and left.

Ok so eventually I like Halloween but not with dozens of teenagers around me and alcohol. I always enjoyed to do trick or treat with my brother and his friends.

"The time is up Dusti time to go. The arcade is closing."

"Noooo I didn't revenge on mad max." He cried out as I drag him out to the car.

"That's so unfair."

"What? You can stay even a few minutes more than the others you should be grateful"

"I'm not because of mad max"

"you're such a stupid boy. Please shut up"

During the drive home we didn't talked that much and when we arrived Dustin ran into the house.

As i passed the bins I heard some hustle but I ignored it.

"Hey darling. How was work?"

"Great as everyday." She smiled and I sat down at the table to start dinner.

"Are you ready for Halloween Dustin?" He stopped eating and smiled as wide as he could.

"And you Y/N?"

"That's it. Nanc asked me to come to the Halloween party" Dustin and my mom widened their eyes.

"You're not coming with us?"

"No but Jon is, you're going to be alright" my mom calmed down after she heard they wouldn't be alone.

"I'm finished can I go upstairs?"

"Yeah honey. Good night" I gave her a quick cheek kiss and left.

When I arrived in my room Steve sat on my bed.

"Who allowed you to come in?"

"You?" He pointed to my window which wasn't closed at all.

"Idiot"

"Love you too dumbass" I sat down next to him and he lays his arm around me.

"How was work?"

"It was boring. I can't believe I took that offer"

"it's okay Y/N only a year and then you're almost off to college" I lay down on my bed and he was now laying next to me

"is this cheating?" I turn in his arms to face him.

"You and me laying here and talking?" I nodded, "when you think that this is cheating then you've got your answer."

"No I don't think so but everyone is interpreting different"

"so what would Nancy interpret as cheating? I mean she laid in the same bed with Jon a whole night and they talked. We are just laying here and talking I'm leaving soon if you want me to go"

"no stay, please. So you're going to the party as well?"

"You're coming?" I nodded, "that's great finally you're interacting with people in your age."

"Shut up" I slapped his chest, "you have to take me with you"

"in my car?" He laughed.

"Yeah Nancy said so"

"so she's now deciding over both our lives?"

"Looks like. Steve I'm so tired"

"do you want me to leave?" I couldn't even answer because I felt asleep on his chest.

Steve's pov

I was laying in her bed waiting for her to come upstairs after having dinner.

Today she worked the longer shift and hasn't really got a break. I'm feeling sorry for her because she's working her ass off and they are paying her like shit. Hopefully she's happy to see me.

"Hey there" I said as she entered the room still in her working clothes.

"Who allowed you to come in?"

"You?" I just pointed towards the window which she didn't closed at all.

"Idiot" she teased me.

"Love you too dumbass" she sat down next to me and I laid my arm around me.

"How was work?"

"It was boring. I can't believe I took that offer"

It was kinda hart to her y/ec full of tiredness, without the sparkle, "it's okay Y/N only a year and then you're almost off to college" She lays down on her bed and I was doing it like her.

"is this cheating?" She looked me in the eyes.

"You and me laying here and talking?" She nodded.

Why would she think over that

"When you think that this is cheating then you've got your answer."

"No I don't think so but everyone is interpreting different"

"so what would Nancy interpret as cheating? I mean she laid in the same bed with Jon a whole night and they talked. We are just laying here and talking I'm leaving soon if you want me to go"

"no stay, please. So you're going to the party as well?"

"You're coming?" She nodded

"that's great finally you're interacting with people in your age," I chuckled and her eyes lit up.

"Shut up" she hit my chest, "you have to take me with you"

"in my car?" I just laughed.

"Yeah Nancy said so"

"so she's now deciding over both our lives?"

"Looks like. Steve im tired"

"do you want me to leave?" She hadn't answered because she felt asleep on my chest.

I totally missed her. I have her back, finally. I won't loose her again I couldn't handle it. I think I love her.

October 31, 1984

Y/N POV

The next morning Steve wasn't there. Steve and I become closer again but I still feel the same towards him and I don't know if he knows. I'm scared that Nancy would assume that Steve would cheat on her with me because he isn't! We are friends!

Today was the day. The party. I hate to interact with others I don't know. I hate being around too much people.

"Dusti could you help me please" Maybe he has an idea what to wear.

"What's wrong?"

"Can you help me? I don't know what to wear," he rolled his eyes and opened my closet.

"Go as Sandy Olsson."

"From Grease? I'm too ugly Dustin"

"okay you're the totally opposite of ugly Y/N!"

"you're only saying this because I'm your sister."

"AAah" He sighed. "maybe a bit but only a quarter."

"Oh thanks Dusti but I don't have any clothes she has worn"

"of course," he went inside to have a better view. He threw a black leather pant into my face followed by a black crop top and a pink jacket.

"And you're taking moms black high heels."

"I'm not wearing heels!"

"of course you will. Please that would suit the outfit so good."

"fine," I sighed and walked to mom asking for her heels which she gave me. "Okay and now?"

"A bit make up," he opened the drawer and picked some utensils. "Great you can do this by yourself," i dragged him towards the door, "thank you Dustin. Love you."

"too," he left the room and I applied the make up.

Nancy called around eight o'clock telling me they would be here around twenty minutes later. I waited outside for the couple and hopped in as soon as they arrived.

Dustin left two hours before so Jonathan could join them for an hour and a half.

"And what do you show?" Nancy turned in her seat to look at me.

"Wait let me guess. A pink jacket. And the black clothes. Mm." She thought.

"She's Sandy Olsson Nancy."

"Steve I wanted to guess," she clapped her hand on his chest, in the raw view I saw him rolling his eyes

"I'm sorry," I smiled lightly.

We arrived to many already wasted teenagers, almost everybody held a red cup in his hand, swaying to the music.

"I'm getting drinks for ya Y/N," I nodded and she walked away.

"You're looking stunning Y/N," I felt heat in my cheeks.

"Mm thanks. You're not that bad yourself," Nancy came back with red cups.

"I'm not drinking Nanc I'm sorry" I put the cup on the counter next to me.

"Oh please only today. It's party time" she threw her hands in the air.

"Mm no thanks Nancy." We stepped on to the dance floor in the living room where everyone were when Billy and his friends including Tommy and Carol arrived.

"They are assholes," Steve muttered under his breath and focused on Nancy again who was drinking her fourth cup.

"Nancy I think that's enough" Steve tried to take the cup away but it spilled over her white blouse.

"Nanc.. I didn't want to. Nancy I'm sorry" she ran upstairs to the bathroom and he followed her leaving me alone in the fully living room.

"Y/N," I felt a tap on my shoulder and as I turned to face the person behind the voice I realized it was Jonathan.

"Jon you're not dressed," he turned a little bit around to show a bunnytail.

"Nice. I like it."

"Where are Steve and Nancy?"

"In the bathroom"

"couldn't they wait until home?"

"No ihhhr.. they're not doing it. Steve spilled Nancy's drink over her shirt"

"that's bad. How is the party"

"as an anti party person I hate it," we laughed when Nancy ran past us.

Jonathan began to walk after her and I wanted to do the same but someone grabbed my arm.

"Y/N can we talk?" I nodded and he lead me to the backdoor.

"What happened?"

"Nancy said that our relationship would be bullshit. That she doesn't love me. That it all is bullshit." A tear rolled over his cheek and I wiped it away.

"I'm so sorry Steve." I looked at him and saw his red eyes. As I saw him like that my heart began to hurt and a tear left my eye too. A strand of hair fall in his face and I pulled it behind his ear. A few moments later I hugged him and we stood like this a few minutes.

"You know Steve when someone is drunk they are saying the truth. Always. I'm not saying this because of you know. I'm saying it as your best friend I just want the best for you," I hugged him again and we drove to my house.

"You want to come in?" He nodded and locked his car.

"Thank you Henderson."

"You're welcome Harrington."

[herstroywritten]

Darn Pigtails

Hello! I genuinely have no excuse for this monstrosity of a piece that I agonized over for the past few days instead of focusing on my uni work. I’ve spent the last month obsessing over Fate and Rivusa (the latter has been a life long obsession and Fate has only added fuel to the fire, with just one scene...). Yes, I am a part of that clown circus and honestly, I’m proud. I’ve always been a writer, but never posted anything but I figure here goes nothing. I was very inspired by some very talented writers in this tiny little club that’s been created on here for this ship (you all know them by now...). I couldn’t resist adding my own (not so) little addition to the collection. I don’t currently have an account on ao3 or anything, so this is just what’s happening. Be warned, it’s long and maybe excessive (8k words, oops). Other than that, enjoy and feel free to let me know your thoughts!

It started with pigtails.

He'd seen Dowling parading her around the square as students fought tooth and nail to kill the fake dummies that seemed to embody their realistic counterparts more than they should have. She's had a raincoat on at the time, not that he would have cared what she was wearing because… how could he notice anything but the pigtails? Fucking pigtails! Long enough to reach her waist, dark enough to have him thinking that the darkest of night skies must have been modeled after that same color, and pin-straight from root to tip. She walked by, lavender sweater and loose jeans, and that's the first thing he noticed. Her pigtails. He felt his tongue move, the tip pressed against the top of his mouth, ready to make a crude comment about how he'd love to tug on those pigtails in more than one scenario because honestly, was he not supposed to with the way that they swung about perfectly matching the sway of her hips? His eyes lit up as he just about let the words tumble out, and then she let her eyes lift to meet his as she made her way through the specialists' training grounds. Brown eyes lingered over his green ones for longer than any normal interaction accounts for, before dropping downward to the rest of his form. His mouth quirked into a smirk.

 "Oh," he thought. "So this is how we're going to play this game."

 Never let it be said that Riven ever backed down from a game or a challenge. And it just so happened that this particular game, the cat and mouse chase, was one of his favorites. So he figured, if she could stare at him like that, it would only be rude not to return the favor. He turned around, let his eyes fully graze over her whole figure the way he'd been too distracted to do before, and that's when he noted the stick she held. Whatever dumb comment he'd been so eager to make about her pigtails was quickly replaced by, "You like holding that big stick?"

 He'd hoped for a reaction. And boy did he get one, a swift and lithe little trick she'd been hiding, seemingly waiting for the chance to pull it out. And even though he'd been training his whole life to defend himself, he just about let her jab his left eye out because he was so very much intrigued by the way her hair swayed to meet her movements and her brown eyes that bore into him with rage. Yeah, this was going to be all kinds of fun.

 "I think I just threw up," she said, her face twisting into clear disdain. But her eyes sparkled and he thought maybe her hair is not the only thing the night sky was modeled after. He'd seen her before, somewhere in the background perhaps. Class? No. If she were a specialist and in his classes, there was no way in hell he wouldn't remember her. The cafeteria? Probably, there was only one place to get food in this godforsaken place and he doubted she hadn't made her way down there at least once. The Alfea hallways? Again, not unlikely. And that's when it clicked into place. She was one of the too many to remember (in his opinion) roommates of Sky's new obsession- Bloom. The four, sometimes five, of them were always together, huddled up beside one another in the cafeteria benches or on the way to classes. Honestly, now that he thought about it, was there ever a time when he'd seen those girls- besides Stella- alone? He definitely had never seen her alone. "Well, better take advantage of the chance," he thought. So, he dug into her, asked about her little run around the training grounds with the headmistress. He wanted to see how far he could push her rage, how willing she was to give him a good show. Between comments about dancing and fairies versus specialists, her eyes flashed purple and he soon realized that he'd bit off more than he could chew. As if her natural brown irises weren't alluring enough, the way they looked when he powers took over held a whole other sense of siren's lure within them. It took him a second to realize what was happening, that she was reading him. And he would have let her continue too, if it meant that he could hold her attention just a little while longer and feel whatever kind of electricity was rippling between the two of them for a few more minutes. Too bad she chose that moment to let him know exactly what she was doing, and exactly how he felt.

 "You really hate being here, don't you?"

 In this school, yes. Here, right now, with her eyes all over him and his hands twitching to edge upwards and brush his hands against those darn pigtails? No. No, he would have loved to stay right here just a little longer. But he was more scared of whatever hell she'd dig up from within him, so instead he told her to stay the fuck out of his head. He caught a glimpse of her prideful smirk, taunting him about this lost battle and her evident win, right before he whirled around and walked his way back to wherever his legs would lead him.

 Passing by the guy he'd seen constantly following her around like a lost puppy dog, the one he assumed was her boyfriend, he murmured under his breath something along the lines of "Good luck with that one."

 And then he was gone. But not before he remembered that he hadn't caught her name. No matter. As previously mentioned, never let it be said that Riven ever backed down from a challenge. She'd won this battle, but he was going to win the war.

_______________________________________________________________

The next time he found himself in her company only, the world had flipped on its axis.

Dowling and Silva were gone and Harvey had turned into a muted professor, almost never seen anywhere except in the greenhouse when he had classes to run. The new headmistress, Rosalind, ruled with a grip tougher than steel. Andreas was  the male version of her, so not any better. Fairies were being forced into combat positions, whether they liked it or not, and upperclassmen specialists were forced into being their mentors, whether they liked it or not. Classes were stricter. You miss one lesson, you make up two class times in personal training with either Andreas or Rosalind herself. At first, everyone'd thought that was a stupid rule. Who doesn’t want a one-on-one with the professors? It took just one dumb third-year specialist missing his first lesson on the first day of the second term for everyone to realize that these training sessions were practically abuse covered with a prettier name.

But the thing that had changed the most, the thing that he couldn't even begin to name, was whatever the hell was happening to his mind. He no longer knew where his day started and where it ended. He knew he must have gotten up every morning and  gone to classes and eaten to sustain his body for the brutal training session that followed and delt with whatever else needed dealing with. And yet, he remembered none of it. None of it except the moments spent chasing Sky around (which inevitably meant chasing the Winx suite around), the moments spent training his new fairy mentee- Musa, and the nightly runs to Dowling's- no, Rosalind's- office where he involuntarily spilled every little detail about his day. His mind had become an utter blur, his thoughts were no longer his own. He knew somewhere in his mind that he needed to stop, had tried endlessly to stop, but the more he held back from Rosalind's spell, the faster his words seem to come out. So, he'd stopped trying to fight it.

It was to his horror when he had been assigned Musa for training. He wasn't sure what he had expected. Of course they were going to pair him with a Winx suitemate, he just had expected it to be Bloom. Bloom was who they wanted details on after all. Even Stella would have made more sense, what with her mother being so very controlling. But no. Bloom went to Sky, Stella to some third year specialist, and he got Musa. If guilt wasn't already shredding him to pieces, it would be now.

He tried to console himself with the fact that he was better prepared to handle her this time. He'd spent enough time with Sky and the girls to have picked up the little details about her. She constantly listened to music to block out the world, she liked wearing shorts and miniskirts (a fact he quite enjoyed), she had an unhealthy obsession with bomber jackets (a fact he could do without when she was also wearing lacy silks under those same jackets), she liked pancakes for breakfast (but only when they were drenched with maple syrup), and the list goes on. His personal favorite fact, however, was that her hair was always immaculate and never the same two days in a row.

The point was, he could do this. All he had to do was train her. No talking necessary. She sure as hell was not about to strike up conversation with him if he didn't bother her. So, he'd keep his mouth shut and just teach her what he needed to teach her. Then he'd leave. That way, when his legs would inevitably carry him to Rosalind at midnight on the dot, he'd have nothing to give her but a good rundown of what moves they had practiced.

How wrong he had been.

He had clearly overestimated his ability to not falter in front of her, because the second she walked into the mat, he knew he'd have to say something.

This time, her hair was in tightly wound braids. Two of them, wrapping vertically down her scalp like fine rope. This time, he wants to undo her hair, to tug the black elastic ties out of place and run his fingers through each threaded piece until the strands lay about her shoulders in waves. He'd like to know what she looks like with her hair down, like fully down.

As if the hair wasn’t enough, she was also dressed in the tight female version of the specialist gear. It's all green woven material that crosses her chest, black mesh that lines her sides, and tight leggings that bring an ungodly amount of attention to her ass.

So, he slips up. "If I knew this is what you'd look like in a uniform-" he starts, but never finishes.

"Don't you dare finish that thought," she warns, voice dripping with a no-nonsense attitude.

"What's gotten into you?"

"It has not been my day. Hell, it has not been my week."

"It hasn't been anyone's week," he feels the need to remind her. And when she looks at him with those eyes, he wonders if she can read right through him without having to use her magic.

"Yeah, well. Let's just say I'm having a particularly more-so-than-average-shit day. So I'd appreciate it if you kept the comments to yourself." She's frustrated, he can see it. She's giving him the perfect out of a bad situation. She's begging him not to talk to her and that's exactly what he needs but goddamn it, he can't back away from a challenge even when his mind is in literal hell.

"What, can't handle me?" She scoffs at that.

"I can handle you just fine. I've been handling other's comments and thoughts since my powers started showing up. That's not the problem.

"What is the problem then?" He's digging, searching for something. For what, he's not sure. She's just finished lacing up her boots. She looks at him then, stares him down.

"The problem is I don’t want to handle you right now, Riven." And with that, she shoves past him to the center of the mat. But he's not done yet.

"You sure about that? I've never met a girl who doesn’t want to handle me before…" He wiggled his eyebrows at her, and she chuckles a little at his antics.

"Yeah, no. But even if I did want to, you'd really have to do better than that.

"What, the line wasn't up to your standards?"

"Was it up to yours?"

"Not my best, I'll admit. But I make do. And you can't tell me Harvey Jr. has done any better." Rage flushes through her features at that particular comment. He watches as her cheeks flush bright red and as the flush slowly spreads to her neck and below the rounded collar of her uniform, slowly cursing whoever created the damn thing for not making it a V-neck. 

"Ooh, a reaction! Go on, then. Tell me what's going on in that pretty little head of yours."

"None of your fucking business."

"It never is, and yet I'd love to know."

"Seriously, Riven. Let's just not talk." She wound up, ready to burst. Her hands are balled into fists by her side and her back is arched towards him in anger. She's a spring ready to jump, and he wants to see how high she can reach.

He goes for the typical line, "Trouble in paradise, then?"

Turns out she can jump pretty damn high, something he expected. What he didn't expect was for her to jump him. She pushes him with so much force that he barely catches himself before he falls. Tears stream down her face as she punches at his chest (hopelessly, he notes… he's got a lot to teach her). He lets her continue the onslaught on his chest, is impressed by her force and strength and persistence even if the form is all wrong. When she finally stops, the tears do too. All that's left are her hiccups and his eyes following her every movement. He watches her dry her eyes vigorously, hears her curse him and the school and herself… and Sam? He's not sure what's happening right now, not sure why his arms suddenly want to wind around her frame and pull her in, or why his heart clenches at the sight of her tears. He chooses to ignore it all.

They continue the rest of the training session in silence, with him only speaking to direct her movements and point out a thing or two about her form. Later that night, after running through his nightly routine with Rosalind, he finds out from Sky that Bloom was especially distressed today because Musa was especially distressed today because Musa and Sam had decided to call it quits. Riven feels light-headed at that news,  and he's still not exactly sure why his body is so adamant about reacting to news involving her.

He rolls into bed, thinking bitterly to himself that he won today. He won this battle. So why does it feel like he lost it?

______________________________________________________________

They continue their training sessions in silence for a while, until eventually a banter sparks between the two of them. He's not quite sure how it happens, just as he's not quite sure how anything happens anymore. He assumes he probably made some joke about how good her legs looked in those damn tights or about how she desperately needed help with her fighting stance. Maybe he just wore her down with his constant questions. He doesn't really care, to be honest. He knows he should care, in the same way that he knows he should actually avoid talking to her instead of showing up every day eager to see her. He just can’t bring himself to do it, not when she shows up in that uniform every day or when she looks at him with so much pride when she finally nails a move they've been working on for so long, and definitely not when she starts to initiate the playful conversations with the same smirk that he would maybe like to kiss off her face. There's so many things he should do at the end of the day, but he does none of them. He just lets whatever happens happen, and it kind of works out for a bit. They tease each other, teeter-tottering somewhere between playful and full on flirting. They fight in close combat corners, sometimes ending up on top of each other. Those days are a personal favorite of Riven's, especially when she's on top of him and he can feel her thighs straining against his waist as she pins his arms above his head. (He may have taught her that one move just for this moment. He felt it was a shame to not put those dance-trained legs of hers to use.)

The perfectly odd tightrope they walk snaps on a Wednesday afternoon, after they've finished training and are walking toward the benches that hold their water bottles. He takes a swing of his water, and then looks up from his seat to see her standing up and chugging her own bottle. A loose droplet slips past her lips and down her uniform's tank top. He follows it with his eyes, not even bothering to hide the very obvious motion even as she finishes her drink, looks at him with a raised eyebrow, and then chuckles at him while rolling her eyes.

"You could be a little less obvious, you know." She calls him out casually. He smirks at the comment before dragging his eyes back up to her brown orbs.

" Subtle isn't really my forte. Besides what fun would it be if you didn't know I was staring at you?"

She rolls her eyes, but her smile gives her away. "You're gonna give some poor girl a heart attack one day if you look at her like that." It's a teasing remark, but he feels his adrenaline hike up at her comment. The game is back on.

"Some poor girl, huh?" He leans into her on the bench, invades her personal space. She blushes, looks directly ahead, and he thinks he's winning another one of the many secret battles they seem to find themselves fighting. Then, she turns to him and looks him dead in the eyes.

"Can I ask you something?" He didn't expect that. Again, he knows he should just leave or say no. Anything to avoid a conversation that could lead to more than just a flirting banter, anything to avoid something that Rosalind may actually be interested in. But she's looking up at him with wide eyes and he's convinced he's become weak and that she's won this battle because he can't bring himself to say no.

"Uh… sure?"

She looks around nervously, as if deciding whether to ask what's on her mind or not. Finally, she leans close to him and asks in a slow and quiet voice, "Where do you sneak off to every night at midnight?" He pulls back from her faster than he thought he would ever be able to pull away from her, blinking down at her now shocked face.

"How-"

"How do I know? You have a roommate, Riven. He hears you leave every night and says nothing about it, but he's been worried about you. He says you've been acting different… For what it's worth, I think he's right. Especially when we're not in training sessions, you're completely out of it. I know this has been a rough mon-"

This is it. She's dug deep enough that she has hit rock bottom, she's found the dead-end at the bottom of his soul. He has to let this banter go now. He can't have her asking questions he'll then have to report back to Rosalind.

"You know nothing." He words are curt and sharp. She flinches at their edge, but doesn’t back down. It's one of his favorite things about her, her persistence.

"You can talk to me if something is wrong, you know? Or to Sky or the girls… you can talk to any of us…" He watches as her eyebrows furrow, traces the line they form down her nose to her lips and then back to her eyes. And that's when he notices that her eyes have changed color to purple. He grabbed her hand quickly and firmly, enough to break her concentration but not enough to hurt her (God, even in his rage, it would never be enough to hurt her).

"I've told you not to do that. Not to use your damn mind powers on me." His voice is strained, laced with anger and something resembling fear. 

"I'm trying-"

"I don't care what you're trying. You shouldn’t be in there. You shouldn't be in my brain. There's nothing in there worth your time or energy and there never will be."

And with that he spins on his heel and marches into the forest behind the training grounds. He doesn’t turn around, but if he did, he would have seen Sky moving out of the shadows and heading toward Musa.

"Did you do it?"

It takes her a second to interpret his question. She still staring into the distance as Riven's figure fades out of view, her eyes finally returning to their normal brown color. She continues to stare at the dot in the distance, unwilling to look away as if she's daring him to turn around and spare her one last glance. He doesn't.

"Yeah. Yeah, I did." She finally turns to Sky. "He's completely blocked from my powers. Dowling was right, he's under some sort of mind control."

______________________________________________________________

It’s 2AM by the time Riven finally makes his way to the room he shares with Sky. He's once again not really sure where his day went or what he did after he flipped on Musa and marched his way into the woods after their little spat. He remembers anger, a lot of anger. He's angry at her for trying to dig into his brain when they had already established that he hated it. He was angry at Dowling for dying (at least, he assumes she's dead because where else would she be?) and leaving the school to the psychopath that is Rosalind. He's angry at Rosalind for manipulating him, controlling his mind. He's angry at Beatrix for getting him into this stupid mess. But mostly, he's angry with himself for letting it all happened, for somehow always making the wrong move at the wrong time, for managing to screw up his own life in such a grand manner that it constitutes an award (truly, he's outdone himself this time). He's mad at himself for not being able to control his own mind, for letting Rosalind take up residence in his brain and being able to do nothing about it. He's even angry at himself for not just standing there and letting Musa read his emotions, because maybe if she did then she'd know the hell he was in. His brain was constantly pulling in all different directions, trying desperately to get away from the constraints of Rosalind's spell. Headaches are nonending and thoughts leave as soon as they come. It's like there's two people waging war within him, but one of them brought swords to a gunfight and is losing horribly. But it’s a war he feels he should fight on his own, and maybe that's why he didn't let her read him. As much as he hates to admit it, the mind control and guilt was breaking him but he could handle that. What he couldn't handle, however, was getting her involved in this stupid mess by mistake, which would inevitably lead to Rosalind getting ahold of her as well. God knows there's only so much room left in hell or sins, and he'd be damned if he hadn't already filled all the available spots.

He was glad for the day to finally be over, glad to be heading to bed (not sleep though, sleep did not exist when his mind was in so much pain all the fucking time). It seemed the world had other plans for him, however, because upon opening the door to his dorm, he was met with a sight that he both dreaded and wanted to burn into his memory for the rest of however long he had to live before Rosalind finally took pity on him and bent his brain to death. 

Perched on his bed, leaning forward ever so slightly, elbows meeting her knees, and head bend toward the floor was Musa. From his angle, he could only see her side profile, but apparently that's all his body needed to be automatically sent into a frenzy. The first thing he notices was, not to his surprise, the hair. She'd replaced her training braids with buns, big ones that hang precariously form her head as tendrils of her dark hair fell in loose waves and framed her face. He again found himself wondering what she would look like with all of her hair fully down. His fingers itched to burrow into those carefully constructed space buns and pull their pins out of place, just to see if she'd look half as beautiful with her hair down as she did with her hair up.

He stood like that for a while, taking her in and letting her continue to stare at the dark wooden floors with her eyebrows furrowed in concentration. He's not sure when, but eventually she turned toward the door, eyebrows first shooting up when she noticed him staring at her, and then falling back into place as she shot him a shy mile from across the room.

"Hey," came her greeting in a small voice.

"What the hell are you doing here?" His question was harsh, but he knew himself well to know that if he even let just one layer of himself down with her, he may as well just lay down all his defenses. She had a way of getting him to speak and break down and he wasn't about to let himself get her mixed up in whatever evil plan he'd been helping construct against his will.

Too bad for him, because it seemed Musa had been expecting a fight and was ready to fire back his quips with some of her own. She simply rolled her eyes and casually stated, "Well, then, straight to it, are we?"

"If you're looking for Sky or Bloom, they're probably in a dark hallway somewhere snogging each other half to death," he answered. She grimaced at the image.

"Yeah, no. I'm not here for Bloom or Sky."

"Then you're not here for anyone." She gave him a pointed look at that phrase. He wisely chose to ignore it and instead made his way to the couch in the middle of the room, throwing his jacket somewhere on it.

"What, that's all you have today? I'm standing on your bed, we're alone in your bedroom, I'm in a miniskirt… and you're not going to make a comment about showing me a good time? You're losing your touch, Riv." She was teasing him, he could tell by the light tone of her voice. Maybe she liked to see his reactions the way he so enjoyed watching her react to his own snarky comments. Maybe she saw enough into his brain earlier to have dug up some of his fantasies. Damn her, he'd been avoiding looking anywhere but her face since he walked in, and now here she was basically challenging him to do more. Damn him and his inability to back down from a game he was so clearly not apt to win at the moment. He turned around and finally got a good look at her. She was indeed in a miniskirt, under which she had tucked a lacy white top that was very clearly meant to showcase the black bra she wore underneath the pitiful excuse of a shirt. Her signature red bomber jacket hung from her shoulders and the black boots she had on were laced all the way up to her kneecaps.

This must be it, he thought. This must be his punishment for spilling his guts to Rosalind every night. Or maybe, his guilt and the pain throbbing through his veins had finally won out and he was finally cracking under all that pressure. That's fine. He wasn't even surprised this is what his brain chose to tease him with at the brink of destruction. He figured she'd be the one to shatter him, it was only a matter of time.

"Hello? Are you even listening to me?" Her voice broke him out of his trance. Ok, maybe he wasn't imagining her.

He sighed, defeated and broken and just tired. "Why are you here, Musa?"

It’s a staring match now. He watches as her eyes soften and the sarcasm leaves her features.

"I couldn’t read you earlier today. In the training grounds-" No. Anything but this conversation.

"Maybe you should consider working on those powers of yours then. Seems to me like you're the one losing your touch."

"I'm serious, Riven-"

"I am too."

"Jesus, Riven, let me just finish!" Anger sparked in her features. "You're loud, Riven." He scoffed at that. "Your emotions, I mean. They're usually loud… but they're also lively and harmonious, in a weird way that I can't seem to figure out. Lately, however, they've been quiet… as if they don't exist at all. And at first I thought it was me, I thought I was getting better at controlling my powers. But when I tried to read you today, I felt nothing…" There is was, she had figured it out, and now she looked at him as if he was a science experiment she couldn’t quite figure out.

"… Maybe my hearts just finally turned to stone." He tried for a joke. She did not find it amusing.

"I know, Riven." He's not sure what that was supposed to mean. What did she know? That he was a horrible person? That he'd snitched on her and all their friends (were they his friends?) to the queen of evil? Or worse, that his body lit up whenever she was around?

"Cryptic, but ok. I guess between that line and the fact that you somehow snuck into my room, you could make the whole 'good girl turned bad, mysterious girl' vibe work. Honored I'm the first you're trying it out on. If you'd like to take it a step further, the bed's right behind you." She may have the upper hand in this game, but he's still a stubborn ass.

"Seriously, Riven. I'm not kidding." She took a step toward him. Wrong move, angel.

"I know you're not. That shirt doesn't exactly scream 'kidding'. Tell me, did you just choose the first thing you found in your closet to put on?" He took a step forward this time, one long stride before they stood chest to chest and he hooked his finger under her chin. "Or is that shirt part of this whole 'mystery girl' scheme? Because, I won't lie, it's working." He sees her shiver at his words and doesn't bother to hide the smirk that graces his face. Finally, things were getting interesting. "Wonder if it looks half as good on my bedroom floor…" He noticed her eyes flicker downward, to is lips, but they moved back up just as quickly. He stared right back at her, watching as she struggled to make up her mind about where to slap him for that last comment. He didn't have to wait too long for a response.

"I'm sure you do." Her words came as a whisper, and the smirk that followed was just as alluring. He barely had time to process the meaning behind it all, before she crashed her body onto him and her lips found his. Her hands gripped into the sides of his t-shirt, keeping him to her with such force that he vaguely wondered why in the world she felt the need to do that when he wouldn't dream of walking away from this, from her. It's frantic and it's rushed. One of his hands find her waist, pulls her impossibly closer to him. His other hand delves into the hair at the back of her head before sliding to the side and pulling at the pins that hold her right bun in place. It takes him pulling out just one pin and the structure falls apart, her hair tumbling around them and cocooning them in place. He hears her gasp, her hands finally unlatching from his shirt as she splays them apart over his muscles, moves them up to his shoulders. 

He's moving backward, whether to ask her if this okay or make a comment about that noise she just made, he's not sure. He never gets the chance. She pulls his to her again, kisses him like she's been starved in a thirsting in wasteland for days and he's the first sign of water she's stumbled upon, bites his lip- fucking bites his lip and sucks on it and pulls it with her teeth… and he thinks that her being here could not have been his punishment. This, right here, her kissing him like this, this is his punishment. This is his pain finally taking over and shattering his soul.

Maybe Rosalind somehow found out about his little crush and is getting payback for the fact that he didn't show up for their nightly midnight story time. Maybe, he's already dead and in hell and some devil out there is playing a cruel, cruel trick on his brain. Maybe that's why his body is shaking, literally shaking, and his mind feels like its tearing apart. He feels Musa's hands on his scalp, her palms splayed out at his temples and fingers tightly wound into his hair. Again, he is surprised at the sheer force she seems to pour into her touch, anchoring him to her as though he could ever want to leave her embrace.

He's so wrapped up in his thoughts and in her touch that he barely hears the whimpers of pain coming from her or feels the tears streaming down her face as she hold him to her. When he finally feels the tears trickle between their lips, be pulls back (genuinely, pulls back because her fingers are still forcing him to her), opens his eyes to find her already looking back at him. But instead of the brown irises she wore when this rough little make out session started, her eyes are now purple. And her face is red. She looks exhausted. He feels exhausted. 

He's about to ask her what's wrong, if she's ok, if her powers are going haywire. But he's so dizzy and so tired and suddenly he's leaning on her and she's pulling him onto the bed. She looks down at him, whispers "I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over in his ear and he finds himself wondering what she's sorry about and where the pain that haunted him for weeks has gone before he slowly sinks into oblivion.

________________________________________________________________

He wakes up and she's gone.

It's Sky who sits next to him the next day, Sky and Headmistress Dowling of all people. He mumbles something about being dead and hallucinating, but Sky just laughs and tells him he's happy to have him back.

It takes a good few hours to catch him up on all the shit he's missed while he was being controlled by Rosalind. Apparently, Dowling was stuck under a bunch of plants? The girls somehow managed to free her with some potion from a cousin of Terra's. Turns out they've been sneaking out every night, pretending to go to parties and instead heading outside the barrier trying to find clues on what the hell Rosalind is up to. That would explain Musa's choice of clothing the other night. 

Sky tells him it was the girls' idea to keep him out of the loop at the beginning, worried that his weird obsession with Beatrix and her even weirder obsession with him would lead to Andreas and Rosalind finding out. Sky swears they were going to tell him eventually, and Riven has to tell him that he's glad they didn't. That's when Sky tells him what he'd already guessed. It was Musa who refused to tell him even after time has passed, sensing that something was wrong in his mind. Her being in their room the other night had been no mistake, but an orchestrated move. She'd practiced with Dowling for weeks, training to unlock his brain, pull it apart so that she could mentally remove Rosalind's control from his brain by sheer willpower and might, and then put it all back together as best she could. 

He's instinctively proud of her, she did it. But, he also wishes she'd done it with less kissing and in some less distracting attire, but he probably deserves the type of torture that will surely follow as a result of last night. After they fill him in, Sky throws his gear at him and tells him to get dressed and ready.

"We leave tonight."

"What? Where are we going?"

"That's a bit complicated." It's Dowling who answers this time. "Silva and Professor Harvey will meet us in the woods beyond the barrier. We will lead you the rest of the way. We're going to collect forces. There will be a war, and Rosalind will know that something is wrong when you miss your nightly meeting with her for the second time in a row. The Winx suite is already with Silva and Ben. They're waiting for us."

They leave the dorms using Stella's ring, which she has given to Dowling as a backup to her magic, which Rosalind is be able to track within school grounds. When they arrive to the location in the woods, Riven is only slightly surprised to find Sam among the girls. He's leaning on a tree, talking to Silva and his father, both of which look like they haven't slept for days. The girls are gathered together by a fallen tree. Musa is in the middle of them, huddled into herself, as Terra and a new girl with brown skin and long honey-brown hair rub her back. Stella, Bloom, and Aisha stand back, watching Musa with worry evident in their eyes. 

It's Stella who notices them first. She wipes the worry off her face with mastered ease that only comes with practice, straightens up her back, shoots Musa a look and calls loudly, "There you are! Took you guys long enough!"

From then on, it’s a quick fill-in on what the plan is, an awkward introduction to the Harvey cousin whose name he can't remember because his mind was too stuck on the girl whose hair is back in those buns he managed to loosen yesterday, and a small little "welcome back to the good side" before they're trekking their way through the woods.

He stands behind her the whole time. Watches as she follows the professors, but stands at the tail end of the line the girls have formed. She looks tired, the bags under her eyes tell him that the girls have probably been out here all night. He wonders how much of her energy it took to tear and mend his brain, if anyone bothered to let her rest after she did it. He wishes he was braver, wishes he could walk up to her and… what, thank her? Ask her why she did it? Why kiss him and then cure him? She could have just as easily done it while he was asleep. He bides his time, observes as one by one the girls take turns standing next to her, linking their arms with hers, smiling down at her, whispering who knows what in her ear and earning a laugh form her every now and then. He likes her laugh, it's cute.

He's currently watching as Bloom pull Musa to her and makes some joke about chickens, when he feels a punch land on his right arm.

"Are you as stupid as you look?" He turns to find that Stella has somehow walked backwards and is now next to him.

"Missed you too, princess," he mutters back.

"Oh, cut the bullcrap, Riven. You've been staring at her for the last two hours and I told her I wouldn't say anything but honestly, you two are hopeless. I've never met two people so oblivious in my life."

"I don’t know what you're talking about." he starts.

"Like shit you don't. If you don't know it yet, figure it out." And just like that she's running ahead and linking her right arm with Musa's as Bloom tries for another joke, this one about pigs that fly.

He tries to ignore Stella's stupid comment. Honestly, he figures it's probably safer to stare at her and look like a total creep than try to talk to her and make sense of his feeling about who the fuck knows what anymore. But Stella's words ring through his mind and he lets himself believe that maybe, just maybe…

In the end, he convinces himself that the reason he walks up to her once Bloom goes to hold Sky's hand and Stella moves in on the new girl to make conversation is because Stella offered him a challenge, and he likes to win at those. (He's heading straight for a loss, he's fully aware of that, but whatever.) 

"Long time no see," he jokes when he reaches her side. She cranes her neck up at him, not surprised to see him.

"Thought I heard your loud-ass emotions coming closer."

"Yeah, I've been told they can be quite the riot." He shoots her a smirk and she smiles up at him.

"Who told you that?"

"Oh, you know. Just some girl."

"Some girl, huh?"

"Yeah. Then she gave me a good snogging before tearing my brain to pieces without my knowing it."

"Mmm. She seems like a handful."

"Tell me about it." Her eyes fall downward and he doesn't need to be an empath to see the gears turning in her head.

"I'm sorry," she starts, "About that. I didn't want to do it, I know you have me reading your emotions."

"Yeah, but I hated having them controlled by someone else even more…" There's a pause and he quickly moves to fill it, scared that whatever courage juice that's coursing through his veins will run out soon. "Thank you, by the way." And he means it. He hopes she can sense the sincerity coming from him because he only has so many words in his vocabulary when it comes to her and fears he's already run out of them when she turns to look at him once more.

They've fallen behind the group at this point. He figures he won't get the chance to do this again for a while, so he asks her the question that been running rampant through his mind. It's pathetic, really. They're headed to god knows where to do god knows what and instead of worrying about the fact that war is coming or even being slightly concerned that he's just had his mind abused and prodded around by an evil mastermind, his biggest worry is if this girl really wanted to kiss him or if she just did it for show.

"So, umm, just so we're clear… did you mean it?" If he felt dumb thinking it, he feels like a world-class idiot saying it out loud.

"Mean what?" She stares back at him intensely, and he thinks to himself in an amused manner that they seem to be making a habit of staring at each other for longer than average periods of time. "The part about you being loud? Cuz, yeah, I meant every word. You're a walking catastrophe." She's smirking at him. He rolls his eyes her words.

"Couldn't care less about that. In fact, I'm glad my emotions are as obnoxious as I am- means they've been driving you crazy for a while now." Her smile falters a bit at that line. "What I want to know," he continues. "Is if you kiss everyone whose mind you go digging into like that." He still has not taken his eyes off her, and he's not going to start now, when she blushes and ducks her head under the collar of her red bomber jacket.

"That was a… last minute choice."

"What for?"

"I had to get close enough to you to make contact. I've only been practicing with Dowling for a few weeks and I didn’t want to screw it up. I can't really do the whole mind thing without some sort of contact just yet…" Her words drift off.

"Hand holding didn't cut it? Had to go for a full make-out session, complete with lip biting and everything?" He watches as she shivers into her coat, arms wrapped around herself.

"You would've pushed me away."

"How did you know I wouldn't push you away while kissing me?" She mutters something under her breath. He doesn’t catch it, not between that stupid jacket that she's using to shield her face. He gently takes a step forward, catches her chin between his fingers just as he had done the night before, makes her meet his eyes. "Come again?"

She sucks in a breath, her eyes waver to something behind him when she finally lets it out, "We both know you weren't going to say no to me throwing myself at you."

"And if I did?" He doesn't know who he's kidding, but it’s still a game and he's still playing to… lose?

She's still staring behind him when she frowns and says, "Then we would have seen just how great this shirt would have looked on your bedroom floor, after all."

And goddamn it, her words send his blood boiling. He's about to kiss her senseless, but he refuses to do it if she's not staring at him when he asks one last question.

With his finger still hooked under her chin and them standing mere inches away, he whispered into the air between them, "Look at me, Musa."

Her eyes slowly move to meet his. He gives up his last question, which just so happens to be his first, "Did you mean it?" And when her small "Yes" makes its way through her lips as her steady brown eyes catch his green ones, that's all the confirmation he needs.

His finger leaves her chin and moves to her head and then he's pulling her in, closer and closer and closer until she's all he can feel and smell and see and breathe. And she responds with the same vigor she used last night, wasting no time to wrap her arms around his neck and lock him to her. It's a new kind of game, one where they battle for dominance until they both run out of breath and need to break free. It makes him stronger, it breaks him down, it makes him wonder why the hell he ever wanted to win against her when he could instead let her win and lose himself to her as he is right now. And when his hands pull the pins from both buns from her hair as he kisses down her neck, she groans in half pleasure and half annoyance.

"I'll have to fix them again now," she whines, pouting her bottom lip out, which he takes as an invitation to bite and pull on it.

"You'll manage. Let me just have this now. I've been waiting a while to see you with your hair fully down." She scoffs but lets him stare at her in awe once he finds it in him to pull back from her lips in order to get a view his handiwork.

And to think, it all started with some fucking pigtails.

[foamkissed]

@duskfloret cont. from here (x)

“ Ah - okay. ” Worried smile aside, she quietly clasped her hand around Pyrrha’s before looking ahead into the darkness. “ What if we run out of battery? ” She didn’t want to explore a supposedly haunted location at all, let alone without light, but it was better they both go than only Pyrrha go. And while Aphrodite seemed to delight in her troubles, if necessary, she trusted that the goddess would help them. 

“ I’ll go with you. I’m fine. ” While she didn’t really believe in ghosts or demons - she herself was the vessel of an actual goddess, so there was always the possibility that malicious spirits actually existed. 

[writing-is-my-guilty-pleasure]

Meeting and falling in love with Asra, Julian and Nadia || Slight Modern! AU

A/N: I could do a part two with Portia, Lucio and Muriel - if anyone wants a part two let me know! Or I’ll probably do a second part anyway

Part 2!

The Arcana Masterlist

Main Masterlist

Asra:

You work in Asra’s shop - but since there’s no magic it now contains various plants, incense, stones/rocks, and trinkets

Like a fortune teller’s shop but without the fortune telling part

You’ve known Asra for as long as you can remember - which isn’t very long as your memory only goes back about three years

You were in a car accident years ago, which damaged your memory pretty badly

Asra has been looking after you ever since, and you’re more than happy to work in his shop

He does sometimes have to go on long trips to get new stock or find new materials, which is when he really leaves you in charge of the shop

Every time Asra leaves you alone in the shop, you feel your heart ache more and more - even the plants seem to sense your sadness

You love watching Asra interact with Faust - his massive python that adores nearly everyone that they come across, but nobody as much as Asra

Eventually, it’s the little things that make your insides turn to jelly whenever you look at Asra

The routine he goes through everytime he makes you both cups of tea, and the fact that he knows what tea is your favourite, and what to put and what not to put in it

The way his hands slide over your waist to land on your back when he hugs you

The way his face seems to light up whenever you enter the room

One day it all comes flooding out - Asra comes back from a long trip, looking absolutely exhausted, but you don’t miss the way his eyes sparkle when they land on you

He walks in and you take one good look at the state he’s in 

‘I’m so in love with you.’

And his face splits into the biggest grin, and the two of you just stand there, grinning at each other until Asra decides that he really should just come inside and kiss you

Julian

You meet Julian in your shop one night - he’d been ‘browsing’ (he was really looking for Asra but he was away at the time) and lost track of time so he stayed past closing time

He scared the shit out of you, emerging from behind some shelves - you almost punched him in the face, thinking he was an intruder

Ever since then you seemed to bump into each other wherever you went

Out in town, in restaurants and pubs - hell, you even somehow managed to befriend his younger sister without knowing they were related, and boy that was an awkward realisation when the three of you met 

Eventually, you cornered him when you saw him in the street outside your shop, and practically pulled him inside

Once you got to know each other, the more you realised how much you had in common, and how nice he was

Although insecure, Julian was great at breaking the ice between you

That was one of the many things you found attractive about him, you eventually come to realise

As the two of you started to get closer, you noticed Julian seemed to simultaneously be distancing himself

Whenever something serious happened, he’d backtrack immediately, flushing violently

oH Lord this boy blushes so much 

One of your favourite things about him is how easy it is to make Julian a blushing mess

His whole ‘pushing you away’ act was driving you insane - it really seemed like he was beginning to avoid you entirely

The next time you saw him you confronted him about it, and he tried to tell you that it was for your own good, and that you can find someone better to be with

‘Why would I ever want someone better than you??’

‘Because I’m a mess, an unstable and unworthy mess-’

You cut him off by kissing him

‘I love you, you idiot. Mess or not, I never want to be without you.

Nadia

You meet her in your store one evening, an hour or so before closing time

You had to do a double take - you couldn’t believe that someone of Nadia’s status would be in your shop

You were flustered throughout your entire interaction, eyes darting around the shop, suddenly seeing how messy your shop appeared

The two of you talked for hours - she invited you over to her (extremely large) house the next day for dinner. And her recently deceased husband owned a lot of very questionable items and she wanted a second opinion on whether or not she should throw them out

Good Lord her house is beautiful

At first you were intimidated and anxious to call her a friend - she was a much higher status than you and you sometimes still felt beneath her

Eventually the fortnightly dinners became weekly, and then sometimes two or three times a week

The more time you spent with her, the more you came to be enchanted by her personality, and not her fame and riches

Whenever Asra was around to work at the shop, you could be found at Nadia’s, having dinner or just spending time with her

If she needed an escape from her world, you were more than happy to give her a tour of the town

It wasn’t until you met her sisters that you realised you felt different around Nadia than you did other friends

Her sisters obviously thought the two of you were an item - and were slightly surprised when the two of you immediately denied it

But after that you couldn’t stop thinking about your feelings towards Nadia - it bothered you so much you had to talk to her about it

‘Nadia, there’s something I-’

‘I think I’m in love with you.’

You gaped at her in disbelief and in slight relief that you didn’t have to confess to her

She smiled shyly at you, and you grinned back, hugging her tightly, and you felt her arms wrap gently around your waist.