#the last one is from the discovery collab

[calmbigdipper]

So many Kavehs — which one is your favorite?

[canmom]

nooooo stop writing sexy letters i'm trying to beat you at chrononauts

as mentioned a little earlier, today I read This Is How You Lose The Time War by Amal El-Mohtar and Max Gladstone...!

Before we dive into the spoilers, a brief word about what this book is...

TIHYLTW is a semi-epistolary novel about time travellers Red and Blue and, essentially, their enemies-to-lovers romance as they play spy games across the broad, branching timeline, acting respectively on behalf of the ultra-high-tech 'Agency' and the biopunk 'Garden'. Each chapter consists of a brief vignette depicting one or the other at their work, ending with the discovery of a letter (in some abstract, poetic form like a dead fish) from their counterpart, followed by the contents of that letter.

A lot of the structure of this book is explained by the knowledge that this was written as a kind of chain-writing project: El-Mohtar and Gladstone hashed out the broad premise but then alternated writing the chapters, with Gladstone taking on the role of Red and El-Mohtar as Blue. Each would respond to the other's letter and advance the story a little bit. In essence, then, this is also something like a play-by-post roleplaying game. I have played both chain-writing games and play-by-post roleplaying so this all ends up feeling quite familiar.

What's remarkable, given that approach, is that this book manages to maintain a generally consistent voice and clear narrative progression. But knowing how it's written still gives you some insight, because you can read it in the light of improv comedy. For example, when Red describes Blue's world, so far undefined, as 'viney-hivey elfworlds', this is what in improv terms we call an offer: you define something and hand it off to the other person to iterate or play on it somehow. In this case, El-Mohtar has Blue gently rebuff this as 'full of silly stereotypes' and ask for a more genuine reply about her own life (this is early in the romance, where they are expressing mutual curiosity which also serves as exposition); Gladstone can oblige and give us Red's backstory.

In some cases, the fingerprint of chainwriting is very obvious. One chapter has Blue sign off 'see you in London next' - Gladstone responds to this by setting the next chapter in an alternate-world city called 'London Next', 'the kind of London other Londons dream'. This wordplay, reinterpreting the last entry in an unexpected light, is such a blatant chainwriting move.

Two writers who vibe, with a back-and-forth, is probably about the ideal scale for this kind of game. At university I played chain-writing games in a large group, where each player got to contribute only one section to the story; this too often became a 'too many cooks' situation, whose pacing would suffer from the lack of larger structure. As a player in that kind of game, you'd have to balance leaving your own fingerprint by adding elements to the story, and advancing what had already been written (I very much tended to the former). Too often it would fall to the last person in the chain to try and hastily tie the story up in some sort of resolution.

Play-by-post roleplaying games don't have that 'one entry per player' limit, but the problems of time zones/availability and the general principle to not 'godmod' meant that often the game would either die pretty quickly or turn into a situation where each person was essentially writing their own story in isolation, with minimal interaction with others. Which can be fun: a collection of web serials on a theme is a perfectly valid writing project. But it's not really a collab in this way.

A project limited to just two writers, on the other hand, can build up a rhythm, and this is what happens here. A lot of the charm of this novel is the playfulness of the back and forth, not just in the letters themselves, but also in the settings introduced and gradual expansion and iteration of the concepts. This feels like it would be a tremendously fun game to play (ehem).

Now, let's apply the Spoiler Zip, and talk about some details.

So this is essentially a spy story; it is a story of the two characters, both prodigy agents, mutually defecting from the Time War to elope together. Though there's plenty of drama when they get found out, death fakeouts, a kind of classic gay personality synthesis...

Most of the chapters end with a 'Seeker' appearing to swallow up the remnants of the letter that has been read. With 'hunger' becoming a symbol of the relationship in the letters, and the time travel theme, I guessed that this character would somehow represent a synthesis of the two characters retracing their relationship. Well, almost!

Broadly, the dénouement is: Blue strikes a (rather vaguely defined) decisive move in the Time War, but Red's superiors figure out some of the situation and set her up to entrap Blue; Red appears to have killed her (with a letter naturally), but she goes rogue and attempts to assimilate enough of Blue's being (through the letters) to enter the Garden and innoculate her against the poison at birth, thus allowing Blue to turn out to be alive and save Red from space prison. So it's not quite another 2010s SFF story in which a lesbian carries the ghost of her dead girlfriend in her head but... it sorta is, innit.

As might be evident from that paragraph, the time travel model in this story is definitely of the 'timey-wimey' variety. It's not really about that; the logic is much more poetic than it is, well, logical. Characters move very freely 'upthread' (towards the distant past) and 'downthread' (towards the scifi future). Their adventures tend to take them to fairly recognisable bits of history, with a reasonable sprinkling of mythology.

What they're actually doing in these places is broadly speaking similar to the card game Chrononauts if you've ever played that, attempting to shape the futures by changing the past, but generally speaking in subtle ways - we're given various examples of saving crucial people from disasters, inspiring inventions, and so on. Of course, they must have a reason for this subtle approach: in this case, 'chaos' is anathema to both sides.

Our characters, as superspies constantly assuming different identities and assassinating people and all sorts of other things, are pretty disconnected from the people whose lives they mess with - something that becomes more explicit later, with the remark that the work involves, often, killing and saving the same people in different timelines. As such, there are few particularly well-defined characters in the story besides Red and Blue - the only real exception being Red's scary, nameless Commandant. Now and then we'll get the allusion to a historical figure, such as Genghis Khan, but only rarely. These bitches have eyes only for each other. Their interactions are frequently compared to a game (mostly go, sometimes a little chess), and the places they pass through are relevant largely insofar as they constitute moves in the game.

This is where I think the comparison to Italo Calvino that I made earlier breaks down. Here, the setting is in large part colour: material for the playful romantic interactions of our two spies. There are definitely some imaginative setpieces - I liked the computer cult of Hack, and the prehistoric valley of bones - but in contrast to Invisible Cities where the relationship between Marco Polo and Kublai Khan is a frame story and the vignettes about cities are the main focus, here the balance is opposite.

On that front of setting, I think I found the factions themselves a little insubstantial. Of course, the point of the novel is in large part that their differences are generally superficial and should be transcended - but beyond that their natures are fundamentally opposed, we never get a huge sense of why the Agency and Garden are battling over the timelines. One is plant themed, the other is robot themed. One plays the long game, the other likes finesse. But both Blue and Red are in some major way alienated from their society - indeed, Red even suggests this is the major qualification for becoming a time agent in her society. They fight the Time War because... they were constructed to do it, because it's a relief from existential despair, and later, because it's sexy to fight a Time War with someone?

If interpreted as an enemies to lovers arc, well, it's not really that. More of a strangers to lovers arc; there is little to not antagonism outside of the occasional bravado about who will win the game. They're really the ultimate u-haul lesbians. But perhaps that's putting a foreign frame on it. 'Courtship through scifi strategy duel leading to transformation through synthesis' is literally a premise I wrote too, I can't possibly complain about it!

I refuse to add another 'lyrical' to the pile, but I can't deny the craft on display here. Still, sometimes the allusions feel a bit too 'local' to my time and place to belong to truly alien beings. Sometimes this is lampshaded - for example, in the first letter from Blue, Ozymandias is quoted, but immediately described as an 'overanthologised work of the early Strand 6 nineteenth century'. That sets up a callback later in one of Red's letter. Another time, Blue recommends Red a fantasy novel written in the 50s, remarking that it is (somehow) the same in every timeline it appears. It's tricky to know how to call this - if the allusions were made up or too obscure, you'd lose the playful way in which they are invoked, yet having a strange transhuman future creature throw out references that feel like they belong to a 20th century university student feels like it familiarises a little too much.

Some of the wordplay also feels... how to put this. The example I'm thinking of is that the characters start riffing on a 19th century etiquette book to help Red get the hang of letter-writing, and this makes reference to a scented seal (wax thing that is used to close an envelope). So Red embeds her next letter inside a seal (marine mammal). My natural assumption is that the characters are speaking $mysterious_future_language, but this kind of pun makes it impossible to read them as speaking anything other than English, right?

But that's the tone of this novel. It's constantly teasing. The Utena influence (I'm told Gladstone is a fan) is certainly strong.

There is something, too, to the way that Red's arc is to step away from the cyborg state where all her inconvenient organs and biological needs can be shut off, and expose herself to what we could call more human experiences - hunger, crying. This is clearly deliberate and rich in metaphorical valence (she is becoming more akin to Blue, and more distant from her utilitarian origin), but she's also coming towards us. This isn't a flaw in the novel, but more a limitation of the medium: we can only see through our own experiences, and thus to write a comprehensible emotional arc for an alien being, we must build our own 'bridges' (to use the novel's metaphor, see what I did there you fuckers) to their experience, and make them more human...

Taken as a spy story, I think the issue is perhaps that the characters are too important. Far from cogs in a vast, grinding geopolitical machine, it feels like Red and Blue are the most important people in all the universes, the only players that matter on either side. Their courtship is inevitable - they just don't need all these other chumps, who can't see how sexy it is to write emotional letters to your rival spy. Everyone else is basically an NPC.

As much as I rib it though, this was basically the perfect train book, and made that five hour journey pass in a breeze. I don't know that I'd really put it on Calvino tier, but I'd still definitely recommend giving it a read, it's a good playful book about lesbians doing a hilariously overcomplicated courtship and what's not to love about that.

As a final addendum - I've been gently reminded that El-Mohtar is 'the prototypical bi woman married to a man who goes to great pains to constantly remind everyone she's not straight', which, you know, fair enough lmao. If my bi granny hadn't married a guy (eight years her senior, no it did not go well), then I wouldn't exist! I just think it's kind of funny.

(and ftr? I don't actually give a shit whether the people who write a book belong to the 'right' identity category. On the contrary, I think everyone should write a gay romance at least once, it's good for the soul, maybe you'll realise you like it more than you thought you would, eh~)

[ryukenzz]

Fear's Favorite Test Subject

♱☠︎.𝕮𝖔𝖓𝖙𝖊𝖓𝖙: Headcanons of the Fear and his most prized possession. These headcanons will be about As Nodt as a yandere mad scientist with a female reader in mind.

♱☠︎.𝖂𝖆𝖗𝖓𝖎𝖓𝖌𝖘: There will be content that'll include human experimentation, yandere themes, manipulation, gore (subtle flesh picking, needles, drugs, etc.), As Nodt being a warning himself, mad scientist themes. If any of these topics are triggering for you, I would suggest not reading this for your own comfort. If I missed any other warnings, please don't hesitate to let me know!

♱☠︎.𝖂𝖔𝖗𝖉 𝕮𝖔𝖚𝖓𝖙: 1.3k

♱☠︎.𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: This is for @nagumoan's Dance with the Dead collab. This is also my first time writing yandere, so I hope this is good jdskf. I gave As Nodt a backstory of him as a neurologist that went into being a neuroscientist. I tried my best with the research I did for these careers, so I apologize if I got any facts wrong 😭.

The Neurologist and His Patient

As Nodt. Oh boy. The very embodiment of fear itself. This quiet man would be formidable as a mad scientist. He is no Mayuri or Szayel, but he is a madman in his own right. His knowledge on the nervous system and negative human emotion makes him one of the worst, if not THE worst mad scientist to come across. And when you add “yandere” to that status? It’s essentially game over for anyone who intrigues him.

A long time ago, As Nodt was a renowned neurologist. He barely spoke to anyone, always preferring to keep to himself and just do the job. To him, the idle chit chat was distracting and unnecessary while attending to his patients. He was a firm believer of interruptions being a hindrance to his work. He barely even spoke to his own colleagues. It all became a daily routine, over and over. Every day was silent. Every single hour became dull. That is until he made an unintentional discovery while looking over a recording of a patient's video EEG test session. Your EEG test session.

His dark eyes were trained on the recording, reviewing your results. The tapping of his pen against his clipboard matched the tempo of the machine in the video. His interest was intrigued by the amount of activity your brain displayed. Your reactions to the variety of clips being shown was brilliant. But, what really had his sights set on you was your fearful reactions. The way your beautiful face contorted whenever a killing scene appeared sparked an unfamiliar feeling. It didn’t sit right with him, but… it piqued his twisted curiosity. How much fear can the brain take before it breaks? How long does it last? He wanted to explore the possibilities. He needed to find the answers. And these thoughts began to chip away at As Nodt’s curiosity… all until it descended into something twisted and deranged.

It seems that dual graduate program will be useful to him, after all.

From that day on, As Nodt began to keep tabs on you. Your appointments, the days and times where you came and picked up your medicine, all of it. He even made arrangements to make sure that you went to him and him only. You didn’t think much of it at first, believing that he favored certain patients over others. As didn’t say a word to you in the beginning, his only responses alternated between blank stares and curt words that lasted two seconds at most. Even with his custom doctor’s mask and lack of eyebrows, his demeanor did the talking for him.

But eventually, he began to make small conversation with you. His words were still short, but definitely way more than what his coworkers received. The sudden change didn't make much sense. As Nodt, the most nonsocial person on Earth, showing interest in something other than his job? Impossible.  You figured that was just his personality … but little old you failed to realize that your new friend lover was leading you on a gurney straight to Hell.

As the months went by, As Nodt stopped showing up to work. You didn’t even realize he was gone until you came in one day and another neurologist handled your appointment. You assumed he was on vacation, so you didn’t worry too much. You went home that day and did your daily routine, watching a cheesy reality show with a snack. It was only a shame that you didn’t catch the small camera that was placed within the console below the flat screen. Or the carnival teddy bear’s eyes that were now camera lenses. Every small corner in your home had been turned into a secret watch party for As to learn everything about you. From the clothes you wear down to the way your fingers moved when you held something of value. His dark eyes burned everything into memory. He couldn’t wait to see that look of fear in your eyes again.

The Fear and His Frankenstein

The day you were taken from your home was akin to a scene right out of a psychological horror. You came home from your errands as normal, but things just felt out of place. The feeling of being watched crawled all over you like flies on a piece of food. It was a mystery… up until a small flash on the TV console caught your eye. You thought it to be a reflection of light from outside, but they don't flicker like a heartbeat. The moment you got closer to it, As Nodt came from the shadows and used a chloroform cloth to make you pass out. It took five minutes for you to finally go unconscious. The neuroscientist’s face crinkled into a creepy expression as he carried you out bridal style.

When you woke up, you were met with grim lighting and advanced machinery. The room was filled with computer monitors, graduated cylinders with foreign chemicals, and multiple shelves of books. You were in a lab. Your eyes studied the room until they landed on As Nodt’s figure. You were filled with confused relief to see him, and went to ask where he had been, but he cut you off with a deep and eerie command.

“Experiments should keep their mouths closed until they are given permission to speak. And I did not grant you that, so I suggest shutting your mouth unless you want to end up like the failures in those tanks.”

Life after that first day was pure agony. Every single moment brought misery. It would make even the strongest people crumble. As Nodt would tell you it’s “for the sake of research and health” but you knew better. He was sick and obsessive, but what could you do? You had little to no power, so your insults and words meant nothing to him. They were as valuable as the dirt that clung to his shoes. Throw every single curse word at him if you want to. It won’t save you from what will come.

His experiments were tormenting and painful. Needles and brain-prodding machines chipped away your sense of self every day. There was no hour where you weren’t being picked at with a needle, or an MEG scanner being attached to your head. The flashing lights and constant clips of horror movies was nothing compared to the pain-inducing drugs that invaded your nervous system. Or the electric buzzing that made your senses numb. The daily experiments were already bad enough, but when it came to his punishments, he became a sadistic creature. Anything that would bring you pain, physically or mentally, As Nodt would turn it up ten notches. 

For every offense that you commit, this silent scientist will base the experiment on whatever it was you did. If you leave the house without permission, he’ll use a special medicine that renders the nerves of your hands useless for two weeks. He’ll feed you and all, but don’t see it as a token of appreciation. Now, if you mess with his other experiments… you’ll wish you’d be one of those brains in the tanks. As Nodt would strap you to a chair and use an MEG scanner and clips of him experimenting on the other “failures” to torment you for hours. In your best interest, and others, don’t underestimate his ruthlessness. If you desire to keep your body and consciousness intact, just keep quiet and be his good little test subject.

“Why do you insist on being so difficult? Because of your constant insolence, I’ve been forced to end the trials of two nearly successful subjects. Thanks to your little belief of escaping, they’ve paid the price. You’ll make up for that, won’t you?” 

♱☠︎.𝕬𝖚𝖙𝖍𝖔𝖗'𝖘 𝕹𝖔𝖙𝖊: I apologize for posting this three days after Halloween is over hfbdjf. But I hope you all enjoy these spooky headcanons for As Nodt!

©ryukenzz 2023. Do not copy, paste, steal, translate, or repost my work.

[ja-khajay]

Tagged by @ervona to post about 5 songs I've been listening to lately! Making a little mix and match playlist based on the half dozen tracks on my phone and songs I've recently discovered. I will detail a bit about each under the cut :)

Nouar - Cheika Rimitti (rai)

Twilight of the Thunder god - Amon Amarth (metal)

What's Golden - Jurassic 5 (hiphop)

Sledgehammer - Peter Gabriel (pop)

Potions - Puscifer (? rock ?)

NOUAR

A few months ago, the combination of discovering a rai playlist on Spotify based on an artist I listen to with friends and another discovery of a radio station that exclusively plays north african and middle eastern music, the latter which became my go-to listen on the way from work for a while, I discovered this specific track. It's a huge niche hit, unknown to the general public but racking up in the millions of views online among fans of the genre and it's easy to see why! This is an absolutely hypnotic track which cleverly layers it's intrument with a catchy sung melody, periodically cut by the rythmic choir repeating its title. The main singer in the dialog has an outstanding voice and this all makes for a looping, hooking listening experience that makes you want to play it forever.

Twilight of the Thunder God

In a very different vibe, we have a track that perfectly matches it's overdesigned, historically based (yet inaccurate) cheesy madness of an album cover. This is the only song if this band I'm familiar with as a big hit. Power metal is among some of my favorite genres of music of all time, especially in it's overbearing energy and gratuitous use of double-pedals on the kick drum, fast bass and general theatrics. While I'm not a fan of growled vocals, this track compensates in my mind with one of THE catchiest hooks I know of in the genre. When I listen to TofTG, it's because I suddently remember it one day and get instantly compelled to download it on my phone and scream its lyrics at the sky until it leaves my head where it's stuck. This can take weeks...

What's Golden

Yet another radio discovery! I'm shamefully bad at hiphop, despite liking the genre a lot, no-one around me listened to it for ages so I don't have similar backlog as in other genres and as such as a grown adult am discovering it all with enthusiasm. This song sums up so many aspects I love in the genre which i'll definitly be using to nail what specific sub-genres are my favorite some day... catchy with a great flow and an instrumental that hooks you, it's impossible to not nod along to the beat and drop what I'm doing to listen to the full thing when it comes up on my playlist.

Sledgehammer

Yeah yeah it's a classic you all know it. And for a reason! This is one of, if not the only song I know which I can't separate from it's music video. I typically dislike MVs and prefer listening to music in pure audio format, but Sledgehammer comes with such a well crafted, wlel synched and creative film attached that it's always playing in my head when I hear it. This song was introduced to me by a mutual a few years ago which I'll be tagging in this post later as a thank you! I don't get its appeal as a dancey song, but it's definitly a track to dramatically walk to, which is probably the appeal the rest of this site sees in Once in a Lifetime...

Potions

For the nerds in the audience, this is a Reznor and Maynard collab so you know what you're getting into. The first thing that strikes me in this track is how loud the bass is - it turns the classic rock instrumental it's made from into something else that's just slightly overwhelming. And on top of that, very delicate vocals detail a raw, simple story of love and addiction. Where I chose this song above the many others of the band I'd been listening to a lot last month is this particular theme it has fits very well with a book series I'm reading right now, and it was easy for me to let my mind fly away with it on...:)

***

Runner ups: The Shame Of Life - Butthole Surfers / Ai vist to Lop - Mont-Jòia / Feuer Frei! - Rammstein / For me, Formidable - Charles Aznavour / It Mek - Desmond Dekker & the Aces

***

Tagging, your turn! @steamclouds @prolibytherium @internationalspacehobo @paristonhilll

[promptsblog]

Anon prompt requests: (Part 2: Vlogger prompts)

Here are some vlog-themed writing prompts:

1. Your character starts a vlog to document the last year of high school. What secret does the camera capture that wasn't meant to be shared?

2. A group of friends discover a channel where the vlogger eerily resembles one of them. What happens when they start watching the videos?

3. Your character is an investigative journalist, vlogging their discoveries as they uncover secrets within their insular world.

4. A vlogger who specializes in debunking myths decides to tackle a local urban legend.

5. Your character starts accepting challenges to boost their view count, but the challenges begin to escalate in dangerous ways.

6. A famous vlogger mysteriously disappears. Your character decides to follow the clues left in their last few videos to find out what happened.

7. A collab gone horribly wrong.

8. Your character’s pet gains internet fame through their vlog. How does this sudden popularity change both their lives?

9. A beauty vlogger starts receiving mysterious products from an anonymous sender. The products seem high quality at first but start to have some strange effects on the vlogger.

To be continued...

Part 1

[soundsandstuff]

new sh*t that dropped last week

new music friday recap - jul 12

here are my highlights of some of last week's (7/7-7/11) new drops — or at least the ones i listened to:

the tops ★

aaa - hyukoh & sunset rollercoaster (💿)

after that incredible lead single (young man), this collaboration between hyuko (🇰🇷) and sunset rollercoaster (🇹🇼) was probably one of my most anticipated july releases; and let me just say this: it blew my mind.

melodically, this album is a delight. from your feel-good sunny-summer-day indie rock moments to more atmospherical and immersive psychedelic tracks - the album navigates so smoothly through very different sounds in such a captivating way. you just can't stop listening.

the production in this is also incredible. there are so many details to discover within each track which make for the overall listening experience a very entertaining one.

it's a solid 9/10 for me. this is easily one of my favorite indie rock releases of 2024.

top 3 tracks: kite war, young man, aaaannnnteeeeennnaaaaaa

2. charm - clairo (💿)

for someone who has been a clairo listener since her early days, it's always exciting to listen to her new records. it feels like catching up with that one friend you see every couple of years. you see, over the course of her career, she has partnered up with different incredible producers for each project to give us a peek into her life and her journey of self-discovery.

we have witnessed her growth happen before our eyes through her work, both sonically and thematically. this is most evident in this record. her lo-fi bedroom pop days from the start of her career are far behind her as she steps into a territory where she feels most confident.

there's a certain warmth to this record. this record has a very 70s inspired sound. it's jazzy, it's folk-y, psychedelic at times. it's very cohesive as a whole, and has some captivating melodies all throughout. her voice, as always, is mellow and whisper-y at times. however, this fits perfectly in the theme and context of this album making giving a sense of intimacy

i think this is a 8.7/10 for me.

top 3 tracks: slow dance, terrapin, echo

the saved ⟡

still what i'm looking for - mac demarco & ryan paris (🎵)

this is the second mac demarco and ryan paris collab, and it's just as incredible as the first one. though this only features ryan paris' vocals, it feels like the perfect choice for this nostalgic adult contemporary melody injected with mac demarco's signature style. fingers crossed we get more collabs in the future.

2. floating parade - michael kiwanuka (🎵)

welcome back, michael kiwanuka. this is his first single in three years, and by the looks of it we're in for a very promising new era. it's soulful, it's dreamy, definitely a must-listend.

3. mary jane - orion sun (🎵)

the strings in this song are sick, complementing very well her very signature ethereal soul/rnb sound. her pen game also remains top tier. it did resonate thematically a lot with me. there's a certain honesty and vulnerability behind her work, which i quite enjoy.

4. drugs n' lullabies - isaiah falls (💿)

though his soulful vocals are a delight to listen to, the production behind this record is the star of the show. the production here is incredible, giving this rnb/soul record a very fresh sound. its funky with a little psychedelic groove to it, it's soulful, and there's some hip-hop influence all throughout the record.

not dull moment listening to this record, for sure. i was so eager to listen to the next song, waiting to be surprised — and i was every time. the downside: some of the songs are a little short, sometimes a little too short. with a production like that you can't help but want more.

there's a few tracks i would've removed, if i'm being honest, as they feel a bit like fillers in comparison to some other stronger songs on the record. however, there's still a little charm in some of these lighter tracks.

overall an 8.5/10 for me. i'm a big production guy and this record gave me everything i needed.

top 3 tracks: city birds, love me or love me not, meet me by the moon.

5. posse ep volume 2 - metronomy (EP)

this is a very interesting project. posse vol 1 left very big shoes to fill, and i'm not sure metronomy quite achieved it in this one. however, it was a very enjoyable project to listen to. he's showcasing once again his range as a producer with very interesting sounds and an interesting lineup of collaborators. saved 3/5 tracks which i will definitely be revisiting.

top 3 tracks: nice town, my love, with balance

6. yustyna - artemas (💿)

though i often feel hesitant when it comes to acts that blow up on tiktok, artemas is one i am very intrigued by. i love this sort of post-punk/pop noir vibe he brings to the table. he kind of reminds me of the sound blackbear or the neighborhood used to have around 2014. maybe it is that nostalgia that draws me towards his projects.

my only downside with this projects is that it feels a bit shallow at times, which makes me question the authenticity behind it. with a sound like this you would expect maybe a little more lyrical complexity or depth of some sort. at times it feels as he's pushing this hedonistic persona on us a little too hard.

nonetheless, this is a very interesting project with a very cohesive production all throughout. saved some tracks from here, and will be keeping him on my radar for upcoming releases. who knows, maybe his persona will be a little more convincing on his next project.

overall 6.5/10. i wasn't really blown away overall because how one-note it felt lyrically/thematically, but i see the potential.

top 3 tracks: i always kew you'd be the death of me, dirty little secret, you're simply wonderful.

7. big ideas - remi wolf (💿)

this is a project i haven't finished listening yet. however, i was super into it during the first half. i must say my favorite song so far have been the more rnb oriented tracks; however, my favorite think in this record is how many different sounds and genres she is exploring with. theres fun pop songs, some more on the rock pop side. i do love a variety. remi wold is definitely on my radar.

top tracks so far: motorcycle, kangaroo

the okays & the skips ⏭

x's - cigarettes after sex (💿)

if you're a fan fof cigs after sex's hazy psychedelic dream pop sound, it is always pleasant to listen to one of their records. i will be honest tho: there's no much novelty going on here. it seems they have grown comfortable on that one specific sound and the recurring themes of longing and heartbreak, which over time seems to have also diluted the depth their lyrics once had.

this one's an okay. giving it a 6/10. it's not a bad record, but there's certainly not a standout track. it seems as if there hasn't been one since their self-titled record. gun to my head and i still couldn't tell these songs apart from each other.

however, it does feel like a record you would find yourself listening to one day. though one-note , there's a certain comfort to their sound. sometimes you just need to float away on the hazy reverb-heavy guitars as greg gonzalez whispers moody melodies of heartbreak into your ear.

top 3 tracks: hideaway, baby blue movie, x's

2. no questions - tyga & sabrina claudio (🎵)

this one is just okay. sabrina claudio brings her silky vocal performance into the track, which is always a treat. however, there's just something about tyga i'm not really a fan of. there's just nothing unique (?) about him or his delivery. feels like any other rapper that goes viral on tiktok everyone will forget about in a couple of days.

3. dreams i see - kid kudi (🎵)

nothing special about this song tbh, and the production feels lazy and generic even. i miss the experimental kid cudi. this was a skip for me, sorry.

4. corazón - nelly furtado & bomba estéreo (🎵)

her lead comeback single was incredible. the sound was exactly what we expected from the one who gave us some of the most iconic bangers of the 2000s. it had a certain familiarity to her signature sound, but with a more current feel.

however, this sound feels very foreign to her, and bomba estéreo feels like an odd collaborator given the lineup of collaborators she has already teased for this era. she is outside her element, and i understand her choice to experiment with different sounds (as that is sort of an unwritten requirement the general public is demanding from pop artists in the 2020s); but it feels a bit... off. a skip.

5. heaven - toro y moi, kevin abstract & lev (🎵)

a little more hip-hop/pop than your usual toro y moi, which is kind of a bummer considering there's a certain uniqueness to the production of his previous work that i kind of enjoy. wasn't necesarily bad, but just okay i guess?

6. open this wall - berlioz (💿)

ever since their debut ep (jazz is for ordinary people), berlioz has been on my radar. its something that i only could describe as feel good jazz infused with house. this project is a little more house-y than their debut ep, which sometimes does give it a bit of an elevator music kind of vibe. i would've loved if they kept exploring a bit more the jazzy sound of their previous record. nonetheless, there are some very enjoyable moments in this record, which you just can't help to vibe to. i guess this one is a good okay.

top 3 tracks: ascencion, peace, something will happen

the flops ⬇

woman's world - katy perry (🎵)

bit disappointing that the long-awaited return of the once pop legend that gave us some of the biggest pop anthems is a vague attempt at a feminist anthem. the biggest irony is that she partnered with known abuser dr. luke in what seems like a desperate attempt for a new no. 1 single. by the looks of it, this upcoming era promises to be another miss.

[jackredfieldwasmyjacob]

my besties eurovisionspain just made this article about 12 artists that could be great choices for next year benidorm fest so i had to talk about them!!! here's the full article but i'll go over the artists / groups for all of you who don't speak spanish plus give my little opinion :)

(the links in the artists' name will go to the song the eurovisionspain team selected to be a showcase of them, so think of them as how a benifest entry for them could be like)

delaporte: delaporte is a duo formed by spaniard sandra delaporte and italian sergio salvi known for being one of the biggest electronic pop bands right now. i actually know them through their project titanas, made to celebrate female voices in the spanish music industry; my personal favourite of them is clap clap, their collab with anaju.

arde bogotá: arde bogotá is an indie rock band formed in cartagena (murcia) in 2017 by antonio garcía, dani sánchez, pepe esteban, and josé ángel mercader, known for the characteristic voice of their vocalist. i've actually been listening to their song antiaéreo for a while now, so i'm glad they're on this list!!! also i love how hard los perros (the song linked under the name) goes !!!

julieta: julieta is a pop and urban artist that sings in both catalan and spanish that goes from pop to reggaeton to house. i had not listened to anything from her but i knew her and i knew she was a girlie i should be on the lookout for. also y'all know how much i love when artists sing in another language that isn't spanish or english so !!!!!

GOMZ: GOMZ, whose real name is raúl gómez, is an indie electropop artist who first rose to fame (I KNEW I KNEW HIM) when he composed tu canción, the song that represented spain in esc 2018. his song sounds nice !!!

judeline: judeline was born in cádiz, and with only 20 years old, she's one of the biggest newcomers to the spanish urban scene. just as with julieta, tho i hadn't listened to any of her songs i knew who she was and yeah, this girl is gonna go far for sure !!!!

joe crepúsculo: NOT JOE CREPÚSCULO 😭😭😭 he's a well established indie pop / electronic artist known for his dance anthems and irreverent attitude. y'all i've seen this man live without knowing who he was and he knows how to give a show that's for sure. he's just a weird little man, just an absolute sicko.

fillas de cassandra: they're a female duo from vigo formed of maria SOA and sara faro who fuse galician oral tradition and modern sounds with a feminism focus on all her songs. i actually have listened to them before, specifically to their song lisistrata (PLEASE LISTEN TO IT AND WATCH THE MV IT'S GREAT), and after learning a bit more about them i might be a bit obsessed with them??? like just from their name ('daughters of cassandra'), their themes and sound, the fact that most of their songs titles reference greek mythology, and how much i loved tataravoa (the linked song, means 'great-grandmother' in galician) that i instantly put it in my playlist... also galician !!!!!!

bajocero x: bajocero x is the stage name of madrid-born daniel lópez, a newcomer to the urban pop scene who actually was a reserve artist in the previous benidorm fest! i like his sound he has potential!

SAMURAÏ: I CAN'T BELIEVE SAMU IS HERE LET'S GOOOO. samuraï is the stage named of aroa, also from madrid, an indie pop-rock artist with a very strong visual and vocal presence. GUYS YOU DON'T UNDERSTADN I'M OBSESSED WITH HER. like i've listened to all her songs so many times she's one of my biggest discoveries of 2023 if not the best i am so in love with her it isn't even funny. her last ep called artillería is so good and it also follows a theme in the naming of the songs which i love so so very much !!!!!! i'm struggling to pick only one song of hers to show to y'all (the linked song is very good btw one of my faves), so i'll give you three: the first song of hers i listened to, her collab with la la love you, and imo her best song in the last ep.

KAI NAKAI: kai nakai is the stage name of iratxe aguilera, a basque singer from gasteiz that does feminist urban music in basque language (euskera). i didn't know her and !!!!!! i do love me some minority language in a popular genre honestly

dulzaro: he's an artist from valladolid who fuses traditional castilian-leonese sounds like jotas, charros and corridos, with traditional instruments like cucharas, panderetas, panderos and botellas de anís, and modern sounds and mixes, to make a quite unique sound. i didn't know him but now i love him so much holy shit !!!! just look at the link and that music video!!!! it's chock full of castilian folklore and traditions and even the town screams castilla y león like it's so fucking perfect!!! and it's a jota !!!!!! oh how i would love this to go to eurovision fuck i know it'd have the same placement as eaea but i don't care this shit is so fucking good.

maría peláe: OH I LOVE HER. maría peláe, born in málaga, is probably one of the new generation of folclóricas [flamenco personalities] in the country, with flamenco full of social messages and almost an agressiveness to it. SHE'S AN ICON she's so funny and sassy and EVERYTHING!!! i love her song por si te vas so much (the music video for it is so good actually) but i might love el grillo (the linked song) even more like it has sooo much lola flores (the greatest flamenco artist ever) energy!!!!! i absolutely adore her

GUITARRICADELAFUENTE: MY MAN. born in aragón, he is a singer songwriter known for his unique sound and his traditional sounds - always with a guitar at the center, that combine rumba, flamenco and indie sounds. he's actually so good it's actually criminal he hasn't gone to benidorm fest. also i'm contractually obligated to link the song that made me discovered him because that song changed the course of my life, nana triste; but also his most known song that actually was who made him known to the public is guantanamera, a version of a traditional havanera that's almost become a classic here. also that mv is how i imagine paradise (it's the town where his grandma lives i think, in aragón).

[whataweirdfeeling]

HELLO welcome to WAWF WEDNESDAY your monthly WAWF update [1st Wednesday of each month]

Considering it is now the month of May @whataweirdfeeling favorite short film is at its 6th & final of the ongoing hexalogy that is 'CLAIR' Find out more about the film and check out what else WAWF has been up to and more

Read below to find out what else WAWF has been up to this month

WAWF NEWS: LVL 6

CLAIR is a bi-annual/seasonal short film by our curator @vyngak [Half released Nov 30 & half May 3] based on clairaudience and the paradoxical nature of music and history symbolically repeating itself through quicker stronger and faster natures The path of CLAIR is a journey all told as a true story of real world events intuitively experienced then reimagined in a glamorously exaggerated fictional universe All for the love of music All for the love of art Walk through CLAIR’s plethora of tastes mediums and discoveries Grow with it as it has and will continue to grow with the ever changing universe Watch and listen to each CLAIR on our curators Instagram @vyngak as we approach the official release of clVIr [lvl 6]

WAWF’s CRANKING

Recent: Hyperdrama [Album] - Justice

Bars ~ WE STILL DON’T TRUST YOU [Album] - Future, Cold Visions [Album] - Bladee, The Coldest [Album] - Skilla Baby,

Alt ~ All Born Screaming [Album] - St. Vincent, Teething [Album] - Porij, Your Day Will Come [Album] - Chanel Beads

Smooth ~ PARTYNEXTDOOR 4 [Album] - PARTYNEXTDOOR, Jeremy [Album] - Yung Bleu, Boundaries [Album] - Sinéad Harnett

Lowkey: BRODIE WORLD [Album] - AG CLUB

Bars ~ My Gift To You [Ep] - Hardrock, Molly Santana [Album] - Molly Santana, BORN2BEGREAT [Single] - Untiljapan

Alt ~ Still Corners [Album] - Dream Talk, Save The World [Album] - AceMo, Dennis [Album] - Sega Bodega

Smooth ~ Two Star & The Dream Police [Album] - Mk.gee, Still [Album] Erika de Casier, Fabiana Palladino [Album] - Fabiana Palladino

Still in Rotation: 99.9% [Album] - KAYTRANADA

Bars ~ The Life of Pablo [Album] - Ye, Whole Lotta Red [Album] - Playboi Carti, Birds In The Trap Sing McKnight

Alt ~ The Slow Rush [Album] - Tame Impala, City Club [Album] - The Growlers, Thunder [Single] - Roy Blair

Smooth ~ Blonde [Album] - Frank Ocean, “Awaken, My Love!” [Album] - Childish Gambino, Heaven or Hell [Album] - Don Toliver

Throwback: Kala [Album] - M.I.A.

Bars ~ Stankonia [Album] - OutKast, The Shining [Album] - J Dilla, #1 Girl [Album] - Mindless Behavior

Alt ~ Contra [Album] - Vampire Weekend, The Lumineers [Album] - The Lumineers, Plastic Beach [Album] - Gorillaz

Smooth ~ 4 [Album] - Beyoncé, Corinne Bailey Rae [Album] - Corinne Bailey Rae, Comin' From Where I’m From [Album] - Anthony Hamilton

WAWF’s MAKING

Welcome to #WAWFsmaking where you can check out new @whataweirdfeeling creations or join in on the fun

In honor of the official release of clVIr [lvl 6] this Friday [May 3rd] @whataweirdfeeling wanted to keep it animated with the official release of the new show/mini series we have been working on.. STAY TUNED

Join WAWFie [WAWF internet Explore] on his first adventure! Through 'The Adventures of WAWFie' #WAWF will grow and learn about each and every one of the intricacies the World Wide Web has to offer..through animation of course

See Ep 1 of 'The Adventures of WAWFie' on Instagram @whataweirdfeeling and let us know in the comments where you would like WAWFie to venture in the next episode

WAWF’s Wearing

In honor of 'CLAIR' check out our new @whataweirdfeeling x T33n Ang$t article '#WAWFt33n' styled with some specific editorial T33n Ang$t pieces similar to those of past CLAIR films

Also be sure to check out our new @whataweirdfeeling x Backtracking Film collab drop for WAWF Shop Drop 004 - 'Keep Calm and #WAWF'

Backtracking will be showing May 4th at the Grace St. Theatre

Along with promoting/supporting growing artists like these WAWF magazine pushes fashion culture and much more

Words/Curated by

[papillon82fluttersby]

Thanks @real-life-senshi for tagging me! I rarely do these kinds of 'get-to-know-you' posts but why not?

The Rules: Tag (9) people you want to know better and/or catch up with, then answer the following:

Four Ships:

Victuuri (Victor Nikiforov x Yuuri Katsuki, Yuri!!! On Ice): I got pulled into the YOI fandom when someone I was following started posting what I thought at the time was an annoyingly excessive number of YOI-related memes and gifs. I ended up watching the series out of curiosity to know what the hype was all about and enjoyed it a lot, which led me to find other people equally interested and talking about it around here, and ultimately led me to the wider world of AO3 where I found many talented writers both in this fandom and others. So I would like to take this opportunity to formally thank the aforementioned YOI-meme poster who unwittingly introduced me to the fandom: @rosepetalrevolution please receive my most heartfelt thanks and this metaphorical gift basket 🎁

Judiki (Julian x Dick Kirrin, Famous Five): If you've been around my blog lately, you know I've been introduced to this pairing by the lovely and talented @sweetsorcery and @majormcnerdy-geekinfantry-blog. This pairing was an unexpected and delightful find that is now living rent free in my head.

Zeus x Ganymede (Greek mythology): @littlesparklight is solely responsible for my discovery and enjoyment of this ship! This prolific writer has also produced many different works around various Greek myths, both shippy and non-shippy, and I can only urge you to visit her AO3 page.

Writers x Readers x Artists: I love collabs. I love when a reader makes a comment that sparks a future idea for a writer. I love when an artist surprises a writer with art for their fics, or when a writer makes a snippet based on a piece of art. Just keep that virtuous circle going!

(I just realised that the 3 ships I listed are all MM but that's not exclusively representative to my tastes. I equally enjoy MF or FF or any other combinations!)

Last Song: The Eurovision 2023 playlist that I listened on repeat for my ratings. I don't really listen to a lot of music on my own; I find it too distracting when I'm reading or looking stuff up on my computer. I listened to music a lot more when I used to draw, though; I always had music as a background then.

Currently Reading: Bill Bryson's The Body: A Guide for Occupants (non fiction) ... as well as a lot of ongoing fics on AO3 -- mostly original works but some fanfics too.

Last Movie: That would be Alexandre Astier's Kaamelott (Premier Volet), based on the legend of King Arthur. It started as a short-format humoristic TV series made of 3-minute episodes, then evolved into 50-minute episodes as the plot got more involved and explored deeper concepts, and the conclusion should now be in the form of a movie trilogy, the first one of which was released a couple of years ago. For a long time, my awareness of the franchise was mainly about the earlier 3-minute humoristic episodes, as they benefit from regular (but out of sequence) reruns on TV. Only recently did I watch the full 6 seasons in the order they were meant to be watched, which greatly enhances the experience. I hope they can get the final two movies made!

Craving: TIME. Seriously. Give me time to read the growing pile of books sitting on my 'to-read' shelf. Give me time to re-read books I've enjoyed in the past and see if I have the same outlook now as I did then. Give me time to read and re-read and comment on AO3 fics. Give me time to resume drawing and learn how to properly use digital art tools. Give me time to practice the piano again. Give me time to exercise so I can feel fitter and stronger in my body. GIVE ME TIME.

Tagging: Absolutely no pressure doing this! Just tagging some of my mutuals and people whose posts and contents always brighten up my dash :) @moonwhing @proantagonista (whom I have not mentioned above but whose YOI fic "Winter Song" was one of the earliest I read and convinced me there was really good stuff to be found in fanfic) @sweetsorcery @majormcnerdy-geekinfantry-blog @littlesparklight @rosepetalrevolution @happyheidi @somethingyoirelated @sheepskeleton-art

[chloroform-e]

2023 musical discoveries

What I'm grateful for :

Songs

Something to believe (Weyes Blood) : I feel something akin to wonder that this song found me when I needed it, just like Pony Pony Run Run sang about : just a song missing inside you. It's not even the words, really (although I want to start saying "the waters don't really go by me" to every how are you), but mainly the way Weyes Blood sings the chorus. It unlocks a mix of hope and sadness that I find weirdly comforting.

No Woman (Whitney) : Phoenix (maybe my favourite band ever) covered this song years ago, but I never paid attention to it until last summer. I was in a folksy mood and something clicked. There are a dozen tiny moments in this perfect song that make me so happy, that make me want to twirl my arms and dance in the street on my way to work. I focus a lot on lyrics when listening to music, but what moves me the most here are the instrumental phases : the drums and guitar kicking in after "I'm not ready to turn", the guitar solo toward the end.

Artists

Waxahatchee : I first got to know her music through her covers and collabs (the Plains record is brilliant), and I'm still getting into her entire catalog. I'm so glad I discovered Saint Cloud in July (I say "perfect album" a lot, but this one really really deserves it), and that I have all of her records to go through, little by little (and perhaps new music in 2024 ?).

Nation of Language : of course I had to end with them. I still get teary-eyed when watching clips from their live shows on Instagram, wishing I were there. It feels like their songs were made in a lab for me : music that I can dance to, that can make me cry. A song like Sightseer encapsulates all that I love about new-wave : how it's yearning and melancholic, cold and dancing.

[heartsleevemag]

Friday Five

by Vi McDonald

Welcome to this week’s installment of Heartsleeve Magazine’s Friday Five playlist! From up-tempo tracks that’ll make you feel like you’re in an eighties movie, to some of the crunchiest, coolest new rock tunes, here are five songs that kept our blood pumping this week.

1. "Bad At Letting Go" – Leland, MUNA

Danceable and in denial, Leland's "Bad At Letting Go" is replayable in the way that only a MUNA collab can be. Depicting a romance where things have gone wrong but Leland doesn't want anyone to know, it's about burying your emotions but having them bubble up to the surface anyway. MUNA's influence shines especially brightly, from the production to the vocals to the theme of honest avoidance, as they croon in the second verse, "The tears that are slipping right off of my skin, I don't want 'em to sink in."

2. “Welcome to the DCC” — Nothing But Thieves

With a sound that would be perfectly at home in a neon cyberpunk dream, Nothing But Thieves' new eighties-inspired dance track introduces a new world. "Welcome to the DCC" tells of a utopian heaven called Dead Club City where "If you believe it, it can happen." Even though it'll get you moving, the track has a thrumming tension underneath that hints the DCC might be too good to be true. The video suggests this too, with characters getting sucked into the DCC universe through advertisements and entering a world where there's nothing but endless partying and neon lights. "It's almost time for us to open the doors to you," NBT shared as a caption for the music video. What else will Dead Club City have in store?

3. "Just A Girl" - From The Original Series "Yellowjackets" – Florence + The Machine

Florence Welch once said, "You said that rock and roll is dead. But is that just because it has not been resurrected in your image?" And when Florence decides to resurrect a classic like No Doubt's 1995 hit "Just A Girl," in her image, it infuses the track with an ethereal, foreboding energy. Fitting for the psychological horror-drama show Yellowjackets, this track is a spooky, cinematic rock masterpiece. Tense cymbal crashes and uneasy strings crash open into chaotic harmonies over the song's four-minute runtime – this track singlehandedly convinced me to binge Yellowjackets in its entirety before the new season premieres.

4. "SCARING ME" – Cleopatrick

You got me – this one's not a new discovery. More of a rediscovery, "SCARING ME" is the third track on Cleopatrick's 2022 EP, DOOM. After becoming particularly enthralled with (and seriously overplaying) the two opening tracks, "ZUCK," and "OK," I decided to revisit the EP. "SCARING ME" winds down from the heavier sound of the first two tracks, but continues the theme of examining how relationships are affected by modern society, and how the things that we do affect those relationships. The instrumentation is probably the coolest part – after the song went viral, the band shared how it was made on Tiktok, using layered textures and vocals as an instrument. Cleopatrick is "gonna do a coupl shows" – their words, not mine – in the UK this summer. Check 'em out here.

5. "CHOKER" – ROMES

The very definition of a modern rock track with grunge and 90s influences, "CHOKER" showcases the heavier side of Romes' music. "If you've ever felt emotionally strangled, trapped inside your own mind, or felt like there's no way out, just know that someone else is fighting through it too. You're not alone," the band shared on Instagram following the song's release. And it feels that way, lyrics like "I wanna feel what it feels like to exist," holding a raw desperation that feels cathartic and expressive, like this was something the band had to get out in order to keep going.

Listen to the Friday Five playlist and check out last week's additions on our Spotify, and don't forget to follow us so you don't miss the next one!

[marvelmusing]

Billy Russo Masterlist

Last Updated: 22/07/22

My Masterlist

»»---------------------►

SERIES

Introductions • Part 1 • Part 2

Your colleague Dinah suggests a training session at a private firm - Anvil - and you meet the company’s charming CEO.

Love and War • Part 1 • Part 2

You are tasked with eliminating two dangerous fugitives. When the time comes, will you be able to finish the job?

Love Languages • Part 1 • Part 2

A series based on the five love languages, and how each one applies to your relationship with Billy.

Disastrous Dalmatian’s • Part 1 • Part 2

A 101 Dalmatians inspired meet cute. When your dog Pongo falls for a random Dalmatian in Regent’s Park you become acquainted with her owner, Billy Russo.

Guilty of Love • Season 1 • Season 2 • Season 3

When the wanted vigilante Billy Russo turns up in your house one night, you’re expecting a fight. After all, you’re the one tasked with bringing him in. What you’re not expecting is for him to be making you dinner. Things only become more and more unexpected from that moment on.

White Picket Fence • Masterlist

Billy and you have to go undercover as a newly married couple in the suburbs, and you’re certain your house is bugged so it’s 24/7 of you two acting like a married couple.

Trials & Tribulations

Also known as The Trials & Tribulations of Billy’s Long Suffering Marketing Director - a social media AU, featuring CEO!Billy Russo.

Don’t Blame Me • Part 1 • Part 2 • Drabble

You’re the only one who will love and appreciate Billy exactly the way he is, and you will do anything to prove that to him - even if that means keeping him locked up in your spare room.

The Chelsea & Jess Dumb!Reader Universe Collab

His Best Kept Secret • Duplicate • Ineptitude • Off to the Races •

In the Dark • Part 1 • Part 2 • Part 3

You wake in a strange bed, in a strange room, and are startled to find a pair of dark eyes watching you. Featuring dark elf!Billy.

The Other Side • Masterlist

After the events of The Punisher (season one) Billy Russo stakes his claim on New York, quickly establishing himself as a force to be reckoned with amongst the city’s criminal underworld. When you get assigned to an undercover operation that seeks to take down Russo, a conflict of interest occurs. You may or may not be falling for him?

Building Blocks & Daisy Chains • Coffee & Collisions

Whilst babysitting your nephew in the park, you bump into Karen, a friend of yours, and she introduces you to Billy Russo.

Puzzle Pieces • Part 1 • Part 2

Frank and Billy took down Rawlins together but now you all have to deal with the aftermath. Billy’s mind is more fractured than the scars on his face, and the pieces of your own life are crumbling under the weight. Will the two of you ever assemble the jigsaw?

ONESHOTS

NSFW Alphabet

Comfort Character

Billy comes to your apartment in need of some TLC.

His Smile

Agent Madani expresses too much interest in your boyfriend for your liking. Billy unknowingly provides you with a reminder that he’s yours.

Good Boy [18+]

You make a discovery about your boyfriend, Billy Russo.

Partition [18+]

You and Billy have some fun in the car on the way home from a gala.

Sweetness

Billy Russo loves all things sweet, but you take up a particular spot in his heart.

Valentine’s Day

You and Billy both plan some last minute surprises for your first Valentine’s Day together.

Waiting

You’ll always wait for Billy, and he’ll always come home to you.

Barber Shop

You give Billy’s beard a trim, giving him the opportunity to think over how lucky he is to have you.

Birthday Boy

You plan to give Billy the best birthday ever.

Doodles

As Billy’s assistant, you sit in on client meetings with him, and this afternoon is particularly boring for you both.

Surprise [18+]

You have a surprise for Billy, which he discovers sooner than you had anticipated.

Hunted [18+]

As part of a training exercise with Anvil, you’re tasked with remaining hidden in the city for an entire week. When Billy tracks you down on the last night he decides to teach you a lesson.

New Tie [18+]

You buy Billy a special gift to show him who he belongs to.

Imagine [18+]

You ask your one of your friends, Billy Russo, to take your virginity. Billy is more than happy to oblige.

Crosshairs [18+]

After a few months of stalking Billy, you make the decision to curb your obsession, believing that he deserves better than you. Billy doesn’t agree.

A Little Revenge [18+]

Operation Cerberus was covered up, leaving Billy and the rest of his unit with blood on their hands and no place in the world. You decide to give a little power back to Billy.

Early Morning

After a hard week at work, you’re exhausted, and Billy insists you take a break.

Rescue Mission

During a disastrous blind date you reach out to your best friend Billy, and he offers to come to your rescue.

Bonded [18+]

The hunting season begins and Billy tracks down his future mate.

Fresh Ink

After having a few friends around for drinks at your apartment, you and Billy have a talk about his tattoos.

Monthly Comfort

You’re on your period, and Billy wants nothing more than to make you feel better.

A Night Out [18+]

Vampire!Billy takes you to a local feeding club, and you let him drink from you.

Back in Time

With you by his side, Billy returns to the fire station in Albany where his mom left him as a baby.

Shower Thoughts

The past comes back to haunt you and Billy during your holiday, and the following altercation takes a toll on Billy.

Distracted [18+]

You become a distraction when Billy is attempting to finish his work for the night.

Balance Between Forces

A Star Wars AU. You can’t explain the pull you feel towards the Sith Lord, Darth Russoti. No matter where he is, you can always find him.

Hair Salon

You have a short haircut and you decide to recreate the famous Russo slicked back look with your own hair.

Experiment [18+]

You ask to try something new with Billy.

Perfect Remedy [18+]

Billy has had a long day at work, luckily he knows exactly what he needs to de-stress - and it starts with you on your knees.

Sleeping Beauty [18+]

After a long week, Billy decides to take care of you while you sleep.

Rough Day [18+]

After a long day at work, you know exactly what Billy needs to relax.

Gonna Find You

Your husband has been kidnapped, and you plan to find him yourself.

Never Hurts to Dream

Featuring Singer!Reader. Lisa deems Billy her ‘cool uncle’ meaning that he’s the only adult allowed to take her and her friends to their first concert.

New Year Celebrations

How you spend New Year's eve with Billy.

Blood in the Water

When Billy goes to get the paperwork for your new life together, Agent Madani pays you a visit.

Take Over

It’s fair to say that the Russo case has taken over your life. But maybe you’re okay with that.

Twisted Games

Billy loves to play games, and with his advantages as a vampire, he always wins.

A Marriage of Sins [18+]

When you hear of a demon living in an abandoned church in the woods, you know you need to investigate. But how could you know that the demon was just your soulmate waiting to marry you?

The Twins • Reinforcements

Featuring William ‘Billy’ Russo & Jonathan ‘Jonny’ Russo the co-CEOs of Anvil Security.

Misbehaviour [18+]

Billy takes you to one of his favourite restaurants, but you can’t seem to behave how he wants you to.

DRABBLES

Cam Boy!Billy

God of Love!Billy

FU in my Head

Personal Trainer!Billy

Mamma Mia AU

Single Dad CEO!Billy

His Dark Materials AU

Vampire!Billy

Scream AU

Sleeping with a Ghost

MOODBOARDS

Moodboard Masterlist here

[bitchlessdino]

Alien Remnants in Society: Lee Jung Chan Findings

Pairing: astrology major!Chan x genderless alien!reader

Genre: suggestive, fluff, humor

Word count: 2.7k

Tags: suggestive language, astronomy major!chan, genderless ace-presenting alien!reader, lowkey stalker chan, prodigy!chan, horny!chan, fellow alien enthusiast!vernon (Hansol), aggressive!reader, mentions of blood, strangulation

author note: this is different from what I normally do so I have my reservations about it, but either way I hope yall enjoy it and enjoy the rest of the collab of @svthub's SPOOKTEEN in this link

Lee Chan is a smart kid. He’s one of the top students in his assigned major, performing above expectancy levels in his other classes, and got into his university with a full scholarship with a 1600 SAT score. This guy is absolutely gifted, but what does he focus all his free time on? Aliens.

Every genius has a quirk. For Chan, it was aliens.

When he was 8 years old, somehow studying and comprehending the second law of thermodynamics and being entertained by the likes of his beloved Jurassic World legos, his interest in the wonders of otherworldly beings was piqued when his normal SpongeBob program was interrupted by the local news reports of crop circles and their relevance to the existence of aliens.

This kid is a prodigy, he was still convinced Santa existed, but a prodigy. How could he be convinced by measly crop circles you may wonder. He wasn’t, but when he’d ask his parents or locals about the ideas of aliens, ideas and theories were blurred, making the boy decide to investigate himself. Every interview, every textbook definition, every historical recording, he’s put in a journal which he called ‘Lee Jung Chan Findings.’

Now he’s 20-something following a peer and suspecting finally, at last finally, that they are not who they say they are, but in fact, an unearthly life form and he was going to prove it.

It started with some mild stalking, which in his defense was an…idea at the time, not a good one but an idea (he has no idea how has yet to be arrested), and he’d observe what set you off from the rest. Some of his notes recorded the following:

‘Doesn’t take advantage of the school cafeteria,’

Or, 

‘Makes minimal to no sound, possibly to avoid attention,’

Or even the more ridiculous,

‘Avoids Taylor Swift music like the plague. Who doesn’t like Taylor Swift?’

Chan, himself, could feel his sanity slowly depleting, running on months’ worth of time into his research, having his notes looked over with fellow Alien enthusiast Hansol from the music production department that he met through his historical literature class. He could even feel the skepticism from a believer as big as he is, and Hansol is getting a low bearing D in Anthropology. And listens to Drake unironically.

“Are these a bit of a stretch? I didn’t see how any of these would point them out to be extraterrestrial.”

Chan could understand where his friend was coming from, but what more could he provide? All he knew was you showed up one day on campus and you were not like any student that he’s met or observed before. He prides himself in having a keen sense of people and their behaviors. You didn’t seem to line up close with anyone in his experience, which intrigued him. Your presence just made you seem like you were made to, well, exist and fade into the background.

Chan noticed you though. He sees all.

He'd be lying if he said there wasn’t a time he thought of giving up. His research was already reaching the length of a year, to his standards long considering he grasped the concept of astrophysics statistics in a week. He felt discouraged, he was feeling wronged. It was as if the world was against him and wanted to see his dreams die.

Calm down, Macbeth. Save it for Halloween.

However, as if someone heard his agnostic prayers, he stumbles upon a sudden breakthrough. The strangest discovery thing yet. Upon following you out of the library like he does every Thursday night, he loses you almost immediately, initially unfortunate, but loses himself on campus. The lights that typically stood tall and bright blew out, causing a surge of mystery in what he couldn’t see.

There was one lone light left, standing the brightest, the tallest of any star in the sky. He stands right underneath it, comforted by its glow until he hears it shatter, explode actually. The light of the pole not only goes out but shards of glass fall from right above him, making him instinctively pull away from its perimeter but unable to leave unscathed.

He touches his cheek up inspection, using the flashlight on his phone to detect blood, concluding a cut on his cheek. “What the fuc–”

He uses the sleeve of his crew neck to hold down the spill, in doing so he detects a low but distinct hum. His sensitive ears start to pick up its resonance and the little scientist in him decides to follow it. It grows louder and more apparent in the darkest alley of the college town but tonight a light glow emulates in place of its usual pitch black. 

He treads lightly, seeing a figure with what looks like its arm in the air, sporadically shaking in a constant and repetitive motion. What looks to be the elbow part of theirs is bent, armpit glow, the most insane thing he ever witnessed in real life. Still clutching his cheek, Chan pulls out his phone from his front pocket, pressing buttons single-handedly to get on his camera. He begins videotaping the event, making sure the image is clear and focused, stepping just a little closer until his foot hits a hard lump on the ground. He stumbles to grip his phone and fails when it drops right beneath his feet but it's too late.

Your head snaps towards him and in a blink of an eye, your hands are around his neck threateningly as he’s flat on his back on the ground. Your finger presses in the vital parameters of his neck, squeezing with only enough space for a single breath. Your knees barriers between one of his legs as your torso towering over him, your eyes dark and stoic, like ones of a cold-blooded murderer.

He put his hands up defensively, “L-let’s not get hasty here.”

“Tell me why I shouldn’t eliminate you.”

He realizes this is the first time heard your voice. Your smooth yet calming, what he imagines one of that help sleep audio tapes would sound like. Your face, still emitting that strange glow, flawless up close and personal. He already knew you were physically aesthetic to look at but, with his view, his human instincts naturally come out, feeling a stiff discomfort in his thick denim bottoms. Never in his life did he think being held on the ground by his neck, threatened by a nonhuman creature to get his life force taken out of him would make him so, for lack of better less crude words, horny. This probably was something he should think to bring up with his therapist.

“Now, I completely understand where you’re coming from, you have every right to be mad, but this would be a very big mistake if you were to kill me. I’ll explain why–”

“You, measly human, have been stalking me for an earth year—”

“M-measly?” he stutters.

“You are violating what your people call, ‘right to privacy,’ and make it a point to disrupt each and every one of my environmental studies. I can easily evaporate you. Give me reasons why I shouldn’t.” There has been yet a shift in your tone or eyes, and despite that, your words, mainlines in his body like an IV, leading the blood straight to the least helpful body part at the moment. 

Why couldn’t this have happened during prom night when Chae offered to be his ‘first’ in Mingyu’s van?

“I mean you absolutely no harm! In fact, I admire you. Your presence. Your existence is an incredible personal and scientific discovery–”

“Flattery is an earthy construct to reinforce wants and desired results, your poor attempt at such gives you a disadvantage in this case.”

“I simply want to understand your…people? Your culture, your way of life. I am nothing but a man of discovery…and my word. So, in exchange for letting me live and perhaps, study you–”

“I believe other humans use the phrase, ‘fat chance.’ This is that.”

“You can study me!” he exclaims. “I give you anatomical permission!”

You cock your head. “Why would that interest me?”

Despite being in a near-death situation, his slight narcissism still comes through. “Well, not to toot my own horn, but I am somewhat of a genius by Earthly standards here. I would provide you valuable insight and information.”

“I read that be unlikely.”

“Would it not prevalent to understand the human mind as you ask me, a human, questions?”

You pause, actually considering it, and your grip loosens around his throat. It makes Chan both relieved yet slightly disappointed, for reasons he’ll never understand. You look back at him in wonder, only blinking blankly at him before commenting.

“You are…peculiar.”

“That’s what I'm saying!” Chan agrees proudly.

And with that, you are somehow convinced to let him live. Not getting into why, but he was an interesting pick, and the next day you’re in his dorm room in front of those outdated human cameras that never have nearly enough tape to record something important. Emotions for you did not come out the same way as a human does but annoyance was becoming more than a recurring response. Chan currently being the main source of that irritability right now.

“So, first off. Where do you come from?” Smiling from ear to ear, he is ecstatic to interview his first report of an alien.

“A place unknown far from where you reside. It’s a destination no currently advanced human technology could possibly reach.”

Chan takes a beat to scribble that in his notes. “Great…how did you travel to Earth?”

You blink. “If I answer that imposition, you must be prepared for deat–”

“Okay, touchy subject,” he chuckles nervously, “Skipping. Next Question, um, what brings you to our planet?”

Your silence is worth a thousand words, only giving him that menacing glare you had when your hands were around his throat. He instinctively places his hand against his neck, the sensation of your alien grippers lingering on him. That’s right, he almost died, but why was that thrilling?

“Okay, same response as the previous question. Now, Taylor Swift. Good or bad—“

“How do these questions bring worth to your research?”

He ponders. “Well, they give an idea of the qualities of life forms outside the human’s existence. There’s hardly ever an opportunity for us to interview an extraterrestrial being such as yourself.”

“And you believe whether or not I partake interest in what you call ‘music’ here revolutionary information?”

He shrugs, seeing your point, “It’d be interesting in my research to get opinions of observations you’ve made appointing yourself as a resident here. You’ve taken place on this Earth as human for years. You’re bound to have gained some personal biases…So Taylor Swift?”

“...It interferes with my communications.” You answer plainly.

“She is an international treasure. Anyways. Communications. Is that what you were doing when I found you last night?”

“The actions I partook was a form of communication, yes, however it is to a farther receiver that does not currently locate where I am now.”

“You mean your overlords?”

You roll your eyes, the first almost humanistic action you made today. “...sure.”

“I’m kidding, but about the comms. What makes you flapping your elbow, and the ultra-bright armpit, or whatever is your alien counterpart to the name, It’s a way of communicating? Are your bodies born with communicators or was something implemented into your body in order for that to happen?”

“Once again, that information is classified.”

“Okay, but the glowing armpit. What’s that about?’

The interview drowns for about an hour and you feel the human urge to sleep, which was rare since your species does not require as much as your counterpart does. The questions fall into the category of ones that could be answered and ones that could have Chan disintegrated, and he reaches his final ones, his rather important ones.

“Does your species believe in love?” he asks with a glint of hope in his eyes.

“We believe in the construct of building strong soldiers, leaders, and world builders. And by doing so we mate and use monogamous bonds to produce strong offspring and prevent unfavorable ones. Some are evolved enough to reproduce asexually and create a variation of their person that would do good for our society.”

That answer stuns him, quite a culture shock if he was honest, and he saw the muppet movie.

“...but love? Don’t any of you create bonds out of romantic intention?”

“Romance is a human concept that is, ironically, overromanticized to the point that your people are desperate enough to depend on technology to provide you a potential mate. My people have come far to realize we are our own people and reproduction is clearly recreational. There have been some cases where ‘intimate bonds’ are formed, but they are rare. Most of what my planet values are knowledge and sustenance. It’s what keeps my people alive.”

“So then the sex, mating you call it, is it not pleasurable as humans can perceive it to be?”

“Our pleasure receptors are not as sensitive or necessary as humans. It does not serve all the same purposes as it would for you.”

Chan hums, jotting that down, and pauses, glancing you up and down, before he proceeds with the next question. “Have you personally experienced…it?”

“Mating?”

“...yes.” a tinge of pink creeps up on his cheeks.

“I have yet to. My current tasks take precedence before I can move on to partaking in a career in reproduction if I decide to do so.”

His eyes shot open. “C-career?”

“Are we done here, tiny Earthling?” You blink at him blankly.

“Tiny–Sure we can stop for today. We can proceed with more tomorrow.”

“More,” you repeat, “what other information possibly desire?”

“Just,” he softly coughs, shutting down his camera, “other things. Meanwhile, we can get on with your study, if you want.”

“I’ve noted all I needed in my internal archive,” you respond standing up from your seat.

“Oh yeah, like what,” he smiles, curious.

You approach him at a steady pace, leveling with his gaze, and peering at him as his breath drew out of him reluctantly. It was much closer a distance than the one last night and in a much brighter setting. He's startled by the tension in your eyes, gripping the desk behind him for comfort, maybe restraint even.

“You have an escalated image of yourself and falter when I do anything to undermine that.”

“I’d think that's a natural response–”

“A lot of humans are more humble. Have a sense of shame. Not you. You do admittedly have higher level attention of most but lack the emotional intelligence.”

“Wh–rude.”

“And,” your arms border his sides, just hardly grazing his arm hairs on the desk, “You exhibit blood to your facial epidermis, an accelerating heartbeat, and perspiration, an abundance in fact, while in my presence.”

He grips harder against the wood, rapidly blinking his eyes, and sucking in his gut to minimalize physical contact.

“...You are an alien that tried to kill me.” He points out matter of factly.

“You use humor as filler, but your heart just accelerated by 20 beats per minute…I trigger your human nervous system. Why?”

Why was that? Because he expected a Simpson’s rendition of a foreign life form, not you. He may have known you to be wearing your human skin suit, something that should’ve set more flashing red warning signs than it actually did, but all he could feel was a gravitational pull towards you, something much more complicated than he could’ve ever explained.

“Like I said. You almost killed me.”

Your gaze drops down, letting Chan do the same, both pairs of eyes locked on the raging erection in his pants. His hands immediately shoot covering it, “Fear is an elevated study of arousal! It’s backed by science.”

“If your cerebral cortex is projecting that idea, okay.” You back off of him, picking up your own items with intention of leaving. “I would like to interject. I am not clear why you chose to dissect me when you are so close with my comrade.”

He squints, his arouse state faltering in a matter of seconds, confusion in his place. “What? Who?”

“He is the specimen with a human-made tablet in his hand wherever he goes. The goal was for him to make himself inconspicuous in the human eyes, but he discovered your people’s ‘Netflix’ and has been utilizing it non-stop.”

Chan’s eyes shot open again for the umpteen time. “HANSOL?!”

[dourpeep]

The Chalk Prince

Summary: Between the lines of his existence, lies a story. But above all, Albedo is most thankful that he has found his happily ever after. Contains: Albedo x gn!Reader, fluff, papa Albedo A/Note: for @xiaosmoon Valentine's Day collab, day 21, "kissing them while they're asleep." I had a lot of fun thinking of what to write for this, but the idea of making it like one of those fairytale kisses where the prince kisses their fated lover and everything just suddenly seems to be good won out-

Long before the Mondstadt of today existed, there was once a lonely boy whose eyes shone of seaglass and had hair spun of the finest flaxen thread. Born of the earth and the dreams of a lost nation, he set out with his master, his mother and creator to discover more about life.

He was little more than a child then, unsure of the world and its secrets, eager to discover more but every new experience making him cower. Yet with this apprehension, he took each step in calculated pride.

‘The true nature of this land will unfold as you move on, ■■■■■■.’

He didn’t quite understand what it was she meant at the time, instead offering a wide-eyed look and the nod of his head.

The art of creation and the transmutation of the world surrounding.

To be able to take something—a dying branch from a tree, a delicate butterfly—and transform it into something entirely new. An opportunity to take what little life gives and make it into something more.

So the boy dove into his studies, to his master’s delight

With every new discovery shutting away the loneliness, the boy bloomed and grew in skill and curiosity.

There was a time, long after he first was created, that he and his master set foot on the grounds of a great mountain shrouded in chilling winds and ice. ‘A promise.’ She said, staring out at the bleak landscape as he leafed through the few notes he took. She told him, that day on the mountain, that she knew he would achieve more than he could imagine.

-

Albedo’s thoughts were taken the moment his pen plucked from his grasp.

“What’s today’s date?”

His brow creases, lip turning down into a small frown. Surely, it hasn’t been that long since? Between his research and side project, he’s ensured to keep track of his meals, breaks, as well as any notable events.

So, he answers, only to be met with a tap to his nose and an exasperated sigh from his lover.

“You’ve been here since Tuesday, Bedo—it’s Friday morning, come home and rest, please?” You press a kiss to his temple, smoothing out a few stray hairs. They stick right back up. “You’ve done enough work to last a whole month, at least.”

…Perhaps those few power naps he took weren’t naps after all.

“Papa!!”

Upon his return home, a little voice speaks up.

Bright and just as interested in Teyvat as Albedo himself. Colm tugs on his father’s coat, prodding at him with questions about some weed picked out from between the stones of the cobbled road, asking him if he liked the cream cake you slipped him between experiments. Each little inquiry was met with a smile and finally followed by the gentle pressure of his lips to his child’s forehead.

“Mm, yes, the cake was just as delicious as you said it’d be.” To his delight, there was another piece tucked away safe for later.

“We can share!”

But, as all things tend to be, there was a time and a place for everything.

The little pout of Colm’s lip tugs at his heart, Albedo’s resolve only crumbling a bit before he shakes his head. He soothes it by hugging him tightly.

“How about we share it tomorrow for breakfast? Then we can start the day off properly.”

The bribe seems to work well enough, so long as he tells a story before bed.

Nighttime routines seem to go by quick. Teeth brushed, pajamas on, and worn rabbit tucked in beside his son, Albedo finally sits on the edge of the bed. Twin eyes of brilliant green stare back at him.

And with that, Albedo tells his story.

By the time he has fallen asleep, the moon peeks above the rooftops. With Mond quiet for the night, all that’s left is a last second check of the locks before bed. They secure with a click, gently illuminated by candlelight.

With a single exhale the light is extinguished, dousing the house in the dark.

-

You look so peaceful, near ethereal with the moonlight shining through the thin curtains and illuminating your face in a gentle light.

But Albedo couldn’t seem to bring himself to move closer. After all, this is the kind of thing that princes do—rescuing their fated lover from an indefinite sleep, braving the dangers to risk it all in the name of a love that they’ve never known before, the pursuit of a happy end.

Not him, aside from his namesake, not an alchemist from the city of Freedom.

His mind drifts back to that half-written draft.

It isn’t until after a moment longer of watching you sleep at peace that he leans in.

Lips touch in the gentlest brush, savoring the softness of yours, the familiar feeling. In his chest he can feel the way his heart flutters and rejoices. He finds himself retreating all too soon. Through half-lidded eyes, Albedo takes in the sight of you, your lips parted gently and features soft, serene.

You lay still. With every breath, your chest rises and falls, a steady rhythm.

“Hm.”

He shifts, careful as he adjusts his position until he has you snugly in his arms.

Though his life is nothing like the fairy tales that he tells his son, Albedo rests peacefully with the fact that he has found his happy ending.

[provisionalsparkle]

The Boy Next Door

Reader x Bang Chan (Stray Kids)

[Genre] exes-to-lovers au, smut, angst.

[Word count] 6.7K

[Warnings] Smut. Angst. Unprotected sex, voyeurism, ample description of bodily fluids.

[Note] This is my contribution to @feliix ’s Summer 2 Lovers collab! Check it out!

Summer.

The season of fun and sun, careless joy, long days and warm nights…

For most people.

For you, this summer is about change. It’s about the little town you used to live in, the quaint house you grew up in, the smell of your mother’s cooking or the breeze from the yard, the sound of younger kids playing in the street. It’s about the big city you will go to live in, it’s purple and orange twilight skies, black silhouettes reaching toward the skies beginning to twinkle with golden lights, the noises of the traffic coming from evening bustle, the scent of the delis and restaurants that line the streets.

You were stuck between these two places, university having been a four year long limbo of boundless sex mislabeled as self-discovery, and now visit your home one last time, reminding yourself of the life you had there before moving on to another.

You think of the past with nostalgia, yet also with a restlessness that makes you want to run from everything. The stillness, the silence, the unchanging landscape in this little town is too unbearable, too unsettling. But it’s familiar, and it’s comfortable. The life you’ll soon live promises excitement, autonomy, it’s the adulthood you’ve fantasized about. It terrifies you too, and you have these horrible dreams about missing the payment of the most insignificant bill and having the entire world collapse on you because of it. You still don’t know how to do your taxes.

College is over, a new life awaits you in a big city after landing a rather ideal job, but it felt like you were leaving things behind. Funny how, after so many years of fantasizing about this grown-up life you suddenly felt like a lost child, scared to forgo the familiar.

It’s these sort of almost-quarter-life-crisis thoughts that fill your mind on a particularly warm afternoon. You’re indecently splayed out on a couch with as little clothing as possible, the door to the backyard is wide open, letting an occasional breeze waft in to disrupt the stifling stillness of the heat. The lights are off, and you were too unbothered to turn them on as the sun set, preferring to stare at a darkening ceiling as the evening sky turned purple.

There’s a familiar jingle of keys from the front door.

“Honey? You home?”

“I’m here, Mom.” You lazily answer back. She wanders from the hall to the living room, you can feel the judgemental look she gives you.

“Have you been laying like this all day?”, indignation lines her voice. Was it so surprising to find you like this?

“Yeah…”

“You can’t just lay here all day. Go out! Get some sun! Go play with those kids you used to hang out with from school!”

“I can’t Ma, I’d rather just plank here.”

“Oh goodness, Y/n. Give me one good reason you shouldn’t go hang out with them!”

“I’ll give you two: either they grew up to be total bitches or they had kids and became a bore.”

“I didn’t become a bore when I had you!” She exclaims, although it’s not too serious and some playfulness hides beneath the surface.

“Yeah, that’s because you’re a cool mom. They don’t make those anymore.”

“Hmm… well, I think you should make a bit of an effort.”

“Mom… it’s my last vacation you know -”

“You know what?!” She suddenly exclaims, her voice brightening like a lightbulb just radiated in her thoughts. “Mrs. Carson’s son is here with her for the summer too! I bet you haven’t seen him in ages, and he’s gotten so handsome.”

“Mrs. Carson?” You didn’t have any clue who that was.

“Well… you might remember her as Mrs. Bang, but Jane changed her name when she married Norbert a few years ago. She still lives next door and Christopher’s in town spending the summer with his mother.”

Bang…

Christopher…

You hadn’t heard that name in years. It surprised you a bit actually, and a hint of a smile came to your lips.

“Yeah, yeah, Mom… I’ll think about it.”

You wouldn’t admit… something did grab your attention. A curiosity of sorts.

You were fifteen years old when you had your first kiss. He was a short boy with a kind smile, a bit awkward really, but you had a fondness for him. It wasn’t about looks at all, all boys at that age were hideous and nothing would change your opinion on that, but you’d swoon whenever you saw him. It was mutual, an icky teenage infatuation that had your friends poking fun at both of you whenever you’d become giddy at the sight of one another. Hot faces, nervous glances, trembling innocent touches.

He sat next to you in chemistry and you’d hold hands under the lab table while the teacher gave class. His left hand always felt soft in your right one. Cute. It’s a bit silly but you’re glad you had that sort of adorable and silly romance. While it lasted, that is.

Christopher wasn’t a bad guy. He was stupid, like all boys that age.

When you saw him kissing another girl, of course you cried, but you knew it had to do with him being stupid more than anything. This simple looking girl that you had been friends with in elementary school, you can’t even remember her name.

You know why he did it, beyond his stupidity. Your mom had let it slip long before - you knew it was coming.

“Honey, would you believe? Mr. and Mrs. Bang are divorcing!” Probably just some hot gossip from one of her PTA yoga groups, no ill intention on your behalf. She didn’t know you were seeing Christopher - over your dead body. You were fifteen and a horrible student, you didn’t need to give your mother yet another element to ground you with.

“Oh no…” You acted as normally as you could, your first thoughts went out to Christopher first though. “Do you know why?”

“Well… I’m obviously not going to ask, duh! But I do know that Mr. Bang is taking the kid with him abroad.” What?! What did she just say? Chis is WHAT?!

“I - uh, what?” Act normal, act normal, act normal.

“Aww… sweetie, was he your friend?” Goodness, parents can be so oblivious, but it’s beneficial in this case. She doesn’t pick up on the depression of your mood.

“I guess.” A sniffle is about to threaten your composure so, in your teenage arrogance, you leave before your mother can see your teary eyes.

The subsequent days were strange. You expected Christopher to tell you the news, you expected to comfort him, you expected to live out the rest of your young romance as best as you could. And then… you saw him.

And he said nothing. He was cold, pushed you away. He must be going through a lot of pain, you thought. More days went by and he still said nothing, and his demeanor grew worse, no affection, no smiles. He must be having a hard time, you reasoned.

Sometimes you thought he was on the verge of saying something to you, like he was about to say something and the words threatened to come out but he’d suddenly pull away and swallow them. You didn’t question it really, it was so confusing but you just went with it.

You never held his hand in chemistry again.

Time made you realize that Christopher didn’t want to be with you anymore. You weren’t sure if it was because he stopped liking you, and that hurt a little, but you knew what he was going through, and you stood by him in case he ever chose to open up and cry on your shoulder. You’d be there for him.

When he kissed that girl, it didn’t really surprise you. Damn it, what was her name? You cried, you thought it was because you were ugly and your boobs were still pretty small - stupid reasons.

It took a few months for you to understand the real reason.

He left without saying goodbye. You never spoke to him after he kissed what’s-her-name. Maybe he tried to do so a couple of times, but you ran away or didn’t let him. Or maybe you remembered it that way to comfort you, just so you’d live with the thought that he tried to apologize, tired to make things right.

But the fact of the matter is he didn’t speak to you and he didn’t say goodbye. He didn’t want to.

He didn’t want to say goodbye because it hurt.

He was trying to ruin your relationship so you’d break up with him and he wouldn’t have to say goodbye, so that he could kill the feelings you had for him to spare you from the pain of his departure.

Or maybe you were just imagining it like that to make it a cuter memory and think about it fondly.

Maybe in the end, Christopher was just a horny teenage boy that cheated on you. Maybe.

Regardless, you giggle as you think back on the silliness of it all, and how serious and life altering it all felt in your childishness. It seemed so long ago, so distant, and you were so changed that it felt like it had all happened to a different person. You wondered about the man next door, and the entirely different boy who had once been next door. What kind of person had Christopher become?

University did you well. It was four solid years of irresponsible drinking and uninhibited sexual exploration paired with relatively easy academics. You don’t know how it happened, but it had been like a transformation from one day to the next.

You, sort of, kind of, absolutely plain and normal girl that no one would notice lest you stepped in their line of sight. One day, there you were - normal.

Two weeks in - boom. Confident. Your roommate was an okayish girl, another plain one. Then you started noticing how comfortable you were undressing in front of her, to change clothes or whatever, as if it was the most normal thing in the world - which it was. Wearing shorts and skirts became less of a worry, just something that felt better. Sometimes you’d be thrown icky glances from some boys, which you hated, but others were acceptably flirty and you loved those. The best ones were the boys that would get shy and who would quickly whip their heads the other way once you caught them staring.

That definitely flipped the switch. It made you feel strong, it made you feel damn good. You, who at the most had dipped a finger into the world of heavy makeouts during high school, now became a seasoned seductress of all kinds of men. So long as you could wrap them around your finger with your demeanor, so long as you could prowl over them and take the lead.

Ah… the good old days.

What was going to happen now, though? Four years later, no slightly inexperienced men left to be wowed. Everyone you knew was turning into a bland and bitter office worker. Was this the end of it?

To think that you’d be ending this glorious chapter of your life in this tiny town, lounging on the same stuffy couch in the same hot living room every day, having your routine philosophical melodrama where you’d stare at the ceiling in the afternoons until your mother came in inquiring if you were alive. It was a terrible fate.

A few days after the revelation of Christopher’s presence, which you would never admit had been circling your mind nonstop, your mother returns with another piece of information.

“You know, Jane and Norbert are having a get together of sorts next Saturday - just the usuals from the block.”

“Is that so?” You said with disinterest.

“In fact, I borrowed a baking pan from her last week… why don’t you go over and give it back to her for me? She might need it, and you probably haven’t left this house in days.” You didn’t reply, but you could feel her eyes on you, waiting for you to obey.

“Fine…”

The afternoon was enjoyably fresh, although your white t-shirt stuck to you like a second skin, the bikini top you wore underneath tracing its silhouette into the cotton. You lazily stomped your way to the house next door, admiring the tall window where you had snuck into Christopher’s room a couple of times during your short romance. A ladder was perched up against the exterior toward that window, they must have been fixing things up. The porch was full of cans of paint, tools, boxes. It was only when you rang on the doorbell, begrudgingly holding the large tray, that you realized that Jane might not be the one to open the door but instead it could be -

The door swings open and you gasp. Christopher.

Well… his face hadn’t changed much. But he was slightly taller than you remembered, far more masculine, oh, and he wasn’t wearing a shirt. Yeah, he was shirtless… jeans hanging low on his hips… shirtless… abs… fit waist… arms…

“Hi! Is Jane home?” Good… pretend you don’t remember him.

“I - Uh… no, my mom’s actually out right now.” He replied. His voice had grown deeper, and where did he get that accent? Wait - did he not remember you? Now, that just made you angry, but you wouldn’t let it show.

“Oh, well… my mother wanted me to return this.” You say handing him the tray, avoiding trailing your eyes downward.

“Yeah, sure. I’ll give it to her.” He says. He seems a little frozen, an expression between surprise and caution lingers on his face, but you don’t know if it’s good or bad.

There’s a moment of silence where you just stare at each other.

“Y/n…” He finally says. There’s hesitation in the way he says your name. He’s scared, not of you, but he’s scared about the fact that you’re on his doorstep.

You don’t say anything, calmly, almost coyly, waiting for him to continue. You’d gotten rather good at pretending you were calm, and the slightest tint of a smile painted your lips so you wouldn’t seem cold or ingenuine.

“Do you remember me?” He asks. You can’t help but huff, a tiny laughter really.

“Of course. You know, you haven’t grown much taller.”

With those slightly playful words, you turn to walk back to your home, and with each step your impression of the encounter with your childhood love became more bitter and less sweet.

It was strange how you thought about him, about it. The situation, that is. Seeing him, talking to him, both of you now being older. A few days of thinking now.

You don’t know why you thought about it so much, but you thought about it. You thought about it without knowing how you felt about it or what you thought about it. This man you had only gotten a glimpse of, too overwhelmed to take in his features properly, now walks around your mind freely. He wasn’t the boy you knew. He wasn’t the boy next door whose hand you’d once hold in chemistry, who you’d kiss before turning the corner towards both of your homes. The boy who left all those years ago.

No, it wasn’t that boy. It was that man, who kept perturbing you. What did you feel? Interest? Yes, there was something quite intriguing about all of this which sparked your curiosity. Lust? Of course, absolutely, the man next door looked divine. Suppose you could abstract the person from his body, so that you wouldn’t be so bothered by who he was and what he meant to you, and you’d easily bend over in front of him and invite him in.

You supposed a conversation was in place, though, because after all, he was still the Christopher. You couldn’t just go around fucking people like that anymore - unfortunately. That was something you got away with in college. It’s a shame college boys grow up to be boring men, sex gets more boring, they think they have all the authority… Maybe you should go back to school.

You’re sitting on the windowsill of your second floor bedroom, one leg hanging out and stepping onto the roof. Opposite to your window, beyond a neat shrub, is the window of the guest room of Mrs. Carson, formerly Bang, which seems unchanged from when you last saw it. You remember watching her from your room, also unchanged, using the TV in there to do some aerobics she followed along from a VHS… was it a VHS? No, that’s the machine. What were the things you used to put in the VHS? A cassette? No… regardless, eventually she must have started using DVD’s.

Damn it, it all seemed like thousands of years ago.

Damn it, you were still so melodramatic throwing around words like poetry over some Richard Simmons tape. Aha! It’s a tape!

Your crotch is being dug into by the window frame, and you let your weight rest on it, the slight grind tempting you to have a round of masturbation. But you’ll finish the cigarette you stole from your mother first. It tasted awful, it was another adult thing you couldn’t understand. Why did everyone at university smoke so much? It was just another thing their eager teenage selves did to emulate the adults in grown-up world, to feel a little more grown-up. Who the hell likes this stuff?

But you liked watching it burn, occasionally inhaling its airy and bitter smoke. It wasn’t your preferred type of smore. You preferred watching papers and matches burn, their sweet and rich smell, the warmth of the fire that would sting the edges of your fingers. Shame your mother only used a lighter, you didn’t like the smell of that fire either.

You just surrendered to watching the bright tip of the cigarette and the white streams that came from it.

“You know those are bad for you.”

“Jesus fucking Christ!” You exclaimed, your heart nearly jumping out from your chest. A man had sprung out from the window in the guest room of the Carson house, formerly Bang, and that man was Christopher Bang himself.

“Sorry I didn’t -”

“You almost gave me a fucking heart attack - what the hell?!”

“ - mean to startle you…”

“Damn it, Christopher!”

“Ah! So you do remember me?” He says with a bit of joy, but you just look at him, realizing that this is where the talk will come. His features grow a little more somber. He continues, “So… I guess I -”

“Where’d you get the accent?” You interrupt, genuinely curious. “You sound like the crocodile hunter.”

“Well… I was living in Australia with my dad.” He says it in a normal tone, but you make sure it doesn’t stay normal.

“Oh, so that’s where you went?” You both wince at what you just said. Yep, it’s finally time for that talk.

There’s a bit of silence, but you’ll let him be the one to fill it.

“I…” He sighs deeply. Uuhh… it’s quite a masculine sigh. “I didn’t know you’d be here. I didn’t think I’d ever see you again but I… there’s something I’ve always wanted to say.”

“I’m listening…” You say. It’s a flat tone, but it’s funny. You hope it’ll ease him.

“I wanted to say I’m sorry.” Some silence again, “I’m sorry for being an ass, I’m sorry for cheating on you -”

“Chris, we were like fifteen… you kissed a girl with braces, big deal.” You waved it off. Really, kissing that girl didn’t bother you so much, now almost ten years later.

“I left without saying anything.”

“Yeah, you did. Hard to not notice.”

“I was - I know it’s not an excuse, but I was going through a lot and I didn’t want to hurt you.”

“So you left without saying anything?”

“I’m sorry.”

“It’s ok… we haven’t spoken in years. I practically forgot about it.” No you didn’t.

“Did you?” He says. Was he hopeful when you insinuated he hadn’t hurt you as much as he thought he had?

“No, not really. I mean, yeah, you kissing another girl was pretty insignificant, we were just kids. It did hurt that you left without… I don’t know… There wasn’t any closure. There wasn’t a goodbye. I felt confused for a while, I guess.”

“I’m so sorry about that. But my parents were splitting up, I was going to have to leave everything behind. You were the first girl I loved and I was going to have to say goodbye and I couldn’t handle it. I was too hurt and embarrassed to even tell my friends. I wish I had done it differently.”

“Yeah, I wish you had too. I wanted to be there for you, you know? I wanted to hug you, hold your hand, tell you it was going to be ok.

“I really messed up there…”

“It’s okay Chris, you were just a kid. We were just kids.” You offer your sympathy but he doesn’t soften.

“Mhmm. Doesn’t make me feel less guilty about it.”

“Can I ask you something?” He nods, “Did you do all that stuff… you know, treat me that way, for real or where you…?”

“I was hoping you’d break up with me, get over me. That way we wouldn’t have to say goodbye and we wouldn’t get hurt.”

“I got hurt.” You admit.

“I’m sorry.”

“Stop apologizing.” You insist. “It’s fine. We’re fine. We’re old and grown and fine. All of that’s in the past, I can’t blame you for acting like a kid. It’s okay.”

“Well I can agree with you there. We did grow up, not kids anymore.”

“You didn’t grow that much.” You laugh, he laughs too.

“You certainly did.” He’s being flirty. It could have been bad timing, but the mood felt right.

“Oh, you noticed?”

“Hard not to.” Goodness was he being direct. “You were really cute back in school, I had a crush on you for like, forever.”

“Really…Plain old me?”

“Really. And now here we are and I think I could have a crush on you all over again.”

“So you can go off and kiss another girl with braces and leave the continent?”

“No, I’m a one woman man.” He says while making himself comfortable on his own ledge. It’s getting comfortable overall, like you’re talking to someone you’ve known for the longest time, like a decade of separation didn’t do much harm.

“Well, well. And who is that lucky woman now?”

“There’s no one at the moment. I’m in the middle of some life changes.”

“Do tell.”

“I’m moving back. Well, not here, just in the country again. A big city, big job, kinda scary.”

“Seems we’re on the same boat. I just came back to say goodbye to this place forever and I’m ooout.”

“Did you finish school already?”

“Yeah… I wish I hadn’t though.” You think back on your experience with longing, lamenting it’s end.

“Wow, can’t relate. I couldn’t wait for it to end. What’d you miss about it?”

“Well, I didn’t have to work, grades were good and easy. And I guess, it was tons of fun.”

“How so?”

“Being on a campus full of horny and stupid guys - it was open game.” Chan hisses at your admission.

“I wouldn’t have taken you for that type.” He chuckles, “You would stutter for like the first two months we went out.”

“We were just kids.”

“I guess we were…”

Another comfortable silence as you stare off at the sky, your cigarette burnt through with only the spongy bud left to pinch.

“Chris?”

“Yeah?”

“I’m single too, you know.”

It might have been a bad idea, you said it on impulse after all, something quite instinctive having taken over you. Maybe you were just horny and Christopher was just hot, regardless, the conversation was over. Before he could even process what you said, and the implications to it, you had already slipped back into your darkened room and out of his sight.

Chan felt like a teenager again. Not in a good way.

Chan remembered your first kiss, holding your hand. He remembered your breasts being the first he had ever really noticed, your legs being the first he ever caressed. He remembers how you’d press your bodies together while you kissed, not really understanding what both of you felt, only understanding the urgency of it.

Now he can name those feelings, the ones that once belonged to an inexperienced boy, merely dipping his toes into the surface of that world. But now that he dove, and had dived into its waters several times, he knew how to swim in them.

Yet, seeing you made him feel like he didn’t. It made him feel like he couldn’t swim, like he couldn’t breathe. He felt like he was drowning.

The first moment he saw you on his doorstep he felt his stomach drop, a pang of guilt that had lingered on his mind during countless of sleepless nights hitting him with full force. He didn’t expect it. He thought he would never see you again.

And after taking another look, a longer look, it was like he was swimming in completely different waters. He felt submerged, and he didn’t know which way was up. He wanted to open his mouth and swallow it all up, let you drown him.

He hadn’t felt this raging feeling since he was a teenager. He certainly hadn’t had a specific woman make him feel like this until you.

It made him feel another kind of guilt. Shame even.

The following days he’d watch you, shamefully. His mother had him painting the house and when he stood on the rooftops he took his time to enjoy the view of you swimming in your pool, wearing tiny bikinis that stuck to your skin and showed the buds of your niples and the lines of your labia through the fabric. He would admit, shamefully, that he stopped watching from the roof because he needed to get closer to see these beautiful details.

He now watched you from over the fence in his backyard. Getting incredibly hard watching you swim, watching you oil your body down.

It was all horribly, horribly shameful.

But weren’t you the one that mentioned you were single? It had caught him off guard. He was being cheeky in that moment, but he didn’t know what waters he was testing then. Now he knew, and it was making him behave so, so shamefully.

Should he go over there, push you into a corner of the pool and pull your bottoms to the side? Should he kneel at your feet while your rubbing yourself with that golden oil, and beg you to let him fuck you?

It wasn’t just the thought of sex that drove him mad, it was you in general. How inferior he felt in front of you, like he had to prove himself. Every day he worked shirtless, hoping you’d get a glimpse of him, but you were just so unbothered by it all.

It was driving him fucking insane.

If only you knew.

Except - of course you did. Of course you did. This is what you craved, what you were best at. Driving boys, technically men but boys sounds tastier, to be absolute slaves to their desire for you. Christopher wasn’t doing a good job at hiding it. Did he really think that you would suddenly spend every day swimming in the tiniest bikinis after having not left your couch for over a week? They really are such stupid, fuckable animals.

And Chris was particularly fuckable.

Day four of his perverted project, he was hammering away at some boards in the back porch of his house. Your mother wouldn’t be home for hours, his parents were away for a couple of days.

Everything was perfect.

“Chris?!” You call loudly over the fence from your chaise lounge, carelessly flipping through a book. The hammering stopped, he had heard you. “Chris, it’s hot today. Don’t you think you should come over for a swim to cool down?”

Why on earth were you acting so damn unbothered and confident, he thought. Why on earth were you asking him over?

It’s only a matter of time before he circles his own house and slides in through the gate on your end. He’s still wearing jeans and a utility belt, gloves too. No shirt.

“You can’t really swim in those, take them off.” You hardly peered at him from over your sunglasses. He was just standing there, frozen. That’s usually a sign that you’re working your magic well. Good. “Come on Christopher, take them off.”

“I - uh, I’m actually not wearing trunks right now. Uhm… I’ll be right back.”

“Oh, you don’t have to go.” Insert unbothered page flip. “Why don’t you just undress and get in the pool so I can join you?”

“W-what?” He couldn’t believe what he was hearing. He genuinely thought he had imagined it, maybe all of his hornyness was driving him insane.

“Christopher!” You whine. “You’re ruining the fun!” You slam the book shut and throw it over to the side, taking your sunglasses and hat off. “Chris, I think it’s obvious. Do you think I haven’t noticed you being a peeping tom for the past half week? Look! You’ve already got a tent in your pants and everything!”

“Fuck.” Shit, you were right.

“This is like, hmm, like an open invitation to fuck me.” You say with an eye roll, but your eyes roll toward his abs because they are absolutely distracting you.

“Are… are you serious?”

“Well… You want to, I want to. You’re nice, look like you’ve become quite a decent man - and I’m not just referring to your physique Chris. Maybe, just maybe, it would be an excellent idea if we finally fucked this tension away.”

“Just like that?”

“Just like that. You’re here for a few weeks, so am I. Why not enjoy each other while we can? After that we can just go our separate ways, just like before except we’ll end it on good terms.”

Too many points for him to argue with - you were right on all of them. He couldn’t disagree. In fact, he eagerly agreed. Little did he know you had this pitch rehearsed to perfection, to your benefit, because he seemed to be completely subdued by it.

“Fuck.” He mutters under his breath. Fumbling with his belt, zipper, exposing the line of his abdomen down to his hardening cock. A fat, heavy cock that swung between his muscular thighs. He was fully nude now, standing in front of you, his tan skin glistening in the sunlight. You’re quick to urge him over with a finger.

He pounces, but once he’s crawling over you on that narrow chair, he becomes slow.

“Hi.” You manage to whimper out, now feeling a bit small beneath him, feeling nervous even.

“Hey.” He’s just as nervous but there’s an energy that goes beyond either of your wills pulling you toward one another.

He kisses you. It’s a kiss you melt into, and he sinks his body against yours, with you spreading your legs so he can slot between them. His cock rests against your lower abdomen, his body pressing further into you.

You can’t help but slide your hand between your two bodies in an attempt to finger yourself, prepare yourself, but he stops you and pulls back.

“No.” He growls.

“No?” Is he going to leave you like this?!

“Let me.”

And you do. Chan lowers himself, adjusting you so he can easily bend over the chair while kneeling on the ground, and his hands shake as he dips the tip of his fingers into the hem of your bottoms, just slightly tugging at the material, playing with it before he starts to play with you. You’ve got the perfect view of him basically drooling over you.

He slides the bottoms to the side, but you pull at the strings at your hips, so they come undone and he pulls them away completely. Your lips and the juices coming from between them are just as glossy than your oiled skin.

He can’t help but dig in. Fucking you with his mouth, jamming his fingers in you. It’s an animalistic frenzy and it’s hot and slippery and sticky. You cum and your fluids spill over the impermeable cushion below, pooling under your ass. He can see every sparkling droplet fall from you.

It’s just a haze, he nearly jumps on you, bending your legs nearly over your head, bouncing his pelvis on your cunt like a trampoline, smacking with every thrust. You’re completely glued to one another. If he’s not abusing your mouth with his tongue then he’s biting on your shoulder or grunting, growling, into your ear. It’s filthy. You’re absolutely sure you’ve never been fucked like this.

He cums, several times, as do you. He pulls out each time, jerks himself off on your body, although a couple of times you urged him into your mouth and face. He pulls the triangles on your top to the sides, so your breasts are exposed. He made sure to cum on those too. Semen, sweat, squirt, oil, spit, everywhere there are droplets of your fluids shining on your body like jewels.

It ends with him lying on top of you, nearly sleeping from exhaustion, and your lips feel deliciously sore and sensitive, almost ticklish as he softens inside of you.

It happens again. Several times in fact. Many, many times. When his parents are away, when your mom is away, you fuck all the time. Just a little call of his name over the fence or from your window and he’d be running to you. You were too comfortable with one another to bother with formalities, it was like you’d never been separated. You’d wait for him on all fours, wet cunt on display for him to dive in, but he’d always greet you with a gentle kiss.

Fucking each others faces, drinking eachothers fluids. You even let him fuck you in the ass, multiple times, and he was the first guy to make you cum that way. You were just as hooked and as desperate as he was.

Things started to change though.

The welcoming kisses became longer, you’d talk between the rounds…

You’d fall asleep in his arms, or he in yours.

You’d fuck slowly, deeply, staring into each other’s eyes.

You’d talk to him, tell each other stories of all these years, asi if you had been together the entire time.

You’d smile as you made love, gently. You’d let him cum inside of you.

He’d hold your hand again. They were as soft and warm as you remembered.

You were holding his hand on one particular pink evening, your head resting on his heaving chest, teaching circles into his pecs and nipples. On your bed, in your quiet childhood room. It was a painful silence now. It had been weeks, weeks closer to your respective departure dates.

“I wish I had never left.” He eventually says. You don’t know what to say. “I wish we could have stayed like this for longer.”

“Maybe we would have broken up eventually, or left for college.” You ponder.

“Maybe I would have taken you to prom, or we would have had sex together for the first time…” He returns.

“On this bed? Hmm? With my cute school uniform?” You tease. “Yeah, maybe.”

“But I guess this is what was meant to be.” He sighs, as do you.

“I’m sorry.” Is all you can say.

“What for?”

“I don’t know, I just feel bad. I started this and now we have to go our separate ways again.” You feel something sting in your eye. You can’t cry now.

“Shh…” He coos as he hears you sniffle and feels you twitch. It makes his heart ache like it did all those years ago when he left.

“I - I…” You cry. “I don’t want you to go. I don’t want to go.”

He pulls you into his arms, crushing you in an embrace. Your eyes are closed but you feel the tears fall from his face, he’s crying too.

“I know… but what else can we do?”

There was nothing left to do, other than fuck the days away, crying, holding each other until it hurt. It was a horrible, horrible thing to have fallen in love with Christopher Bang this final summer.

You didn’t go with him to the airport. You didn’t want to say goodbye, you didn’t want to see where he was going.

But he did slip into your room that final night. You made love quietly, he kissed you as you cried.

He said it was the second time he loved you, and the second time he had to leave you.

It hurt much more this time around. Maybe you shouldn’t have done it, maybe you shouldn’t have gone next door.

Being in your house was unbearable once Chris wasn’t next door.

A week later, you’ve arrived at your new place. It had been a whirlwind and you stayed at a hotel the first couple of nights while your new furniture got brought in, most of your personal belongings only fitting in a couple of bags.

It’s kept you busy. That way you think about him a little less. Crying into pillows that have that certain ‘brand new’ smell isn’t quite as comforting as you’d expect. Everything seems unfamiliar, strange, artificial. Nothing here reminded you of him - it was for the best and you hated it.

The place is nice, bright. It’s on the third floor of a small apartment building, a couple of other doors beside yours in the hall. You go downstairs to grab a few packages that have arrived, carefully treading up the stairs in a kind of balancing act once they’re piled in your arms. It’s a choreography you can dance to with expertise, always denying any help from your neighbors.

However, you do fumble with the lock and handle once you’re at your door, holding the boxes up by pressing them against the door with your body as your hands blindly fumble with the keys, nothing but cardboard in your sight.

Nothing you can’t handle, until they start to slip.

“Woah, let me help you with that!” someone says behind you, and in your complicated state it’s a bit difficult to process what happens but the boxes are soon out of the way, said someone pulling them from you and freeing you.

And then you see him.

Him.

Your him.

He says your name and you’re too stunned to react. He’s in awe too. He drops your packages, and you’re certain some of them contain some makeup palettes but you don’t give a damn at the moment.

“What are you doing here?” You finally ask, frozen in place.

“I… live in 304.” He says.

“You live in 304?” He nods. “You? You’re serious?” He nods again, eyes still wide.

You both stand there, processing it all. This can’t be real.

“I live in 302.” you manage to say, after some time. Your voice is weak, all the air has left your lungs. You shake.

“You do?” He asks. Now you nod.

This can’t be.

But he cups your face, holds it like you’re precious and delicate, he kisses you. It is real. You kiss him back, harder. Eventually you’re both clinging to one another, gripping each other’s clothes desperately.

“You live here.” He says, little tears sparkling in the corner of his eyes. You nod, the same tears coming to you.

“I do. Mm-hmm.” The sniffles you let out seem so sweet to him, he swoons with how happy you are to see him. Knowing you feel the same joy he does - it makes him feel complete.

“I live here too!” He cries, laughing, smiling, beautifully.

One more kiss, just to make sure it’s real. You pull him in and kiss him one more time.

It’s real.

[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.