#to the anon who shared this amazing idea with me... this is dedicated to you!! :D

[merakiui]

chemic.

floyd leech x (female) reader cw: nsfw, lots of nerdy pining from floyd, a few cringe science innuendos, childish locker room talk, characters written as 18+, nrc is written to be co-education, reader can use magic note - in the stories you've read, the dumb jock and the teacher's pet always have some sort of clash. if your life is fiction, then you've just fallen into that exact trope. in chemistry, alkali metals react explosively when mixed with water. or: the teacher's pet and the dumb jock are paired up for an alchemy project, and both find that the other has been egregiously mischaracterized by the narrative.

You’ve always thought Floyd Leech was reckless.

“He skips classes, turns in half-completed assignments, and he’s always sleeping around,” you gripe to Ace, who idolizes the upperclassman and his proclivity to party carelessly. Apparently, Floyd’s example is all the rage nowadays amidst the guys at Night Raven.

“So what? We all do that.” Ace sticks his tongue out at you. “Not everyone’s a nerd like you.”

You huff and snap your book shut. “I care about my education. There’s nothing ‘nerdy’ about that.” Your gaze sweeps through the crowded cafeteria, and there he is—Floyd Leech, munching gluttonously on a plate piled high with takoyaki.

“No, I totally get it,” Deuce cuts in. “It’s good to keep up with school. Grades are important. I guess some of us wouldn’t know since he’s not honor student material.”

“Oh, hop off. Deuce is only agreeing with you cuz he wants in.” Ace nudges you, gazing not-so-subtly at your skirt.

Smooth like a well-oiled machine, you turn your horrified stare on a very red-faced Deuce.

“I-I do not!” he protests, choking on his drink. “That’s not true! I’m not that kinda guy. I was just saying—” He stops himself and glares fiercely at a snickering Ace. “Do you wanna fight?!”

“Honestly…” Sighing, you stand up. Boys will always be boys. That will never change.

In your world, there is nothing three-dimensional. It’s all purely fiction. Everyone fits into a trope, packaged neatly for your consumption. It’s literature.

Deuce is the Delinquent. Ace plays the role of the Best Friend (who won’t admit it until you catch him in a sentimental mood; he’s just that type). And Floyd’s the Dumb Jock.

As for you, you’re just a reader. An observer. You watch the story that is your school life unfold before your eyes, and it is full of unusual characters. By fiction’s logic, the Dumb Jock and the Teacher’s Pet almost always clash. You avoid this trope like the plague because, in every iteration you’ve read, the Dumb Jock is always painfully foolish and the Teacher’s Pet is always annoyingly clever. There’s nothing more to either of them. No depth whatsoever.

That’s how it’s supposed to be, at least.

But the thing about your beloved fictional worlds is that, whether you like it or not, one day you’ll have to put the book down and face reality. 

“Leech! Bad boy!” Professor Crewel snaps his pointer against the chalkboard. It quiets the class instantly, and all eyes fall upon the troublemaker in question. “How many times must I tell you not to play with the equipment?”

“Oops. My baaad,” he drawls from the back of the class, not sorry in the slightest.

You watch him from your seat and your dislike for him grows by the minute. What a lazy attitude. Doesn’t he know he’s supposed to pay attention to the instructions? Professor Crewel’s just about to assign groups, but I doubt he was even listening to that. He’s so busy doing… What even is he doing?

It looks like he’s doodling or fiddling with the vial. Whatever it is, it can’t be good. You peer at your own materials, each one organized on your desk, and beam proudly. 

Professor Crewel tuts. “Seeing as your investment in this project is nonexistent, I’m going to pair you with someone who’ll keep you on track. Remember, pups, you and your partner will receive the same grade. This is a team effort, and so the work you do should reflect that. Now then… (Last Name)!”

You flinch. “Yes, Professor?”

“You and Leech will be partners.”

“Me? Hold on. Wait. There has to be—”

“Rosehearts, you will be with Ashengrotto.”

You can almost taste the Strict Tyrant’s—Riddle’s—relief as he deflates. Anyone’s better than Floyd. For once, everyone can agree on that. Or perhaps that’s a sentiment shared only by you and Riddle. You don’t miss the longing stares of some of Floyd’s admirers as they gaze forlornly between the two of you.

Professor Crewel sets his clipboard down. “I expect fine work from all of you. Anyone who fails to meet the deadline or scores anything below the average will take remedial lessons after class. You have one month to finish this project. Instructions have been included in your kits. Work together and utilize your time wisely. We’ll meet halfway through to discuss where everyone currently stands. Dismissed!”

A collective groan sweeps through most of the class as they begin filing out of the room. You jump up from your seat, hurrying to gather your belongings, and bound towards Professor Crewel’s desk. You’re going to plead your case. You can’t work with Floyd.

But then he’s trotting down the aisle, covering each step with a whistle. “Heeey, if it isn’t Li’l Shrimpy! Guess you ’n I are partners now. Lucky me.”

“Hello, Floyd…”

“Aww. You sound so bummed.” He grins. “You sad you didn’t get paired up with Goldfishie?”

You swat him away when he leans over into your space. “This is an injustice. I shouldn’t have to work my ass off just to carry you,” you hiss, scowling at him.

“Hey, I’ll pull my weight. I never said I wasn’t gonna do it.”

Refusing to debate this matter further, you turn swiftly on your heel. Your skirt swishes with the movement. “If you skip even one of the meetings, I’m telling Professor Crewel.”

Floyd follows dutifully after you, irritating like a parasite curled beneath your skin. “What a scary threat comin’ from Teacher’s Pet. Didja rehearse that one in the mirror this morning?”

If you weren’t carrying a box of fragile equipment, you’d slap him. Maybe. You have to uphold your academic record, and assaulting Floyd isn’t worth the tarnish temporary relief will bring.

“We’ll meet in Lab Room 4 during lunch tomorrow. Don’t be late.”

“Whaaat? Why lunch? Can’t we do it after class?”

“Out of the question. If we’re going to get a good grade, we should start as soon as possible. Absolutely no slacking. So make sure to actually read the instructions beforehand.”

Floyd rolls his eyes. “I’m not stupid.”

“I never said that, but our grade will make us seem so if we fail this.”

“It’s not that hard. All we gotta do is use whatever we got in the boxes to make a reaction. Somethin’ like that, right? If we break the glass ones, ain’t that technically a reaction? Like it’s changin’ states of matter or whatever.”

You stare at him. He can’t be serious.

“Talking to you is killing my brain cells, actually. I can’t believe you’re even in this class.”

“What?”

You’re already striding past him.

“Hey! What? What’d I say?”

You turn the corner, and the Dumb Jock disappears from your sight.

Floyd is studying the instructions intently.

His deskmate leans over. Her perfume is obnoxiously sweet. It tickles his nose.

“What’s that?” she asks, smiling.

“Alchemy stuff. The regular class got the same assignment, I think. But ours is a little more advanced cuz it’s honors.” Floyd rests his chin on his palm and frowns at the sheet of paper. “So basically we gotta find the missing component. It’s to make a potion we’ve already covered in class… I guess it’d be best to start with the chemical compounds of the ingredients we’re given and find out what’s compatible and what’s not. What sorta properties they’ve got. The list says…” He squints until the words are clear. “Sodium chloride’s one of ’em… Oh, that’s salt. As a solid, we can’t use it to conduct electricity. But in aqueous and molten states… Yeah, maybe that’d work since the ions are freely moving and stuff. Are we even trying to do that, though?”

“Wow,” she marvels, and his clinical concentration snaps. “You sure know a lot about alchemy.”

Floyd blinks back at her, confused. “Ain’t this common knowledge? Even the guys in the beginner class learn this stuff.”

“Ah, is that right?” She laughs, but Floyd thinks she doesn’t really care. “You were talking super scientific just now. It was pretty impressive. Reminds me of your brother.”

“What’s Jade gotta do with this?”

She shrugs. “He’s the smart one. I always see him with his face buried in a book.”

“And what am I?”

She opens her mouth to reply and then shuts it. “Hm. Well…”

Floyd leans in close. Those sharp teeth of his flash at her in a teasing smirk. “I got one. You wanna know what you are?”

“W-What?” Her breath catches in her throat.

“The pretty one. You make me feel like a noble gas.”

She slaps his arm playfully and giggles. “You’re so cheesy!”

“Do ya get it?”

“Hm?”

“Noble gases. Like helium and argon and neon. They’re chemically inert.”

So basically they’ll never bond with other elements on the periodic table. Which means it’s never gonna happen between you and me. No chemical reaction whatsoever.

“Oh, I get it now!” She shakes her head in amusement. “You could’ve just said I was hot.”

“Sure. We’ll go with that.”

She slides the sheet out from under his hand and, in glittery ink, scrawls her number.

After class, Floyd stands over the rubbish bin and tears it to shreds.

You think you might actually murder Floyd, and then you’ll be the first honors student from Night Raven to commit such a cold-hearted crime.

“Where are your materials? Where’re the instructions? Did you even read it at all?” you seethe, yanking on his tie so he’s pulled down to your height.

Despite the scolding, Floyd’s expression softens into something lackadaisical. “Lost it.”

You release him with a mournful cry. “My grade is doomed and I’m paired up with the world’s biggest idiot… It’s over for me.”

“You got yours, don’tcha? I don’t see the problem with sharing.”

“That’s just it! You’ve got half of the ingredients on your instructions and I’ve got the other half. Didn’t you listen when Professor Crewel explained that?”

“So we’ll just improvise. Can’t be that hard. All we gotta do is figure out what kinda potion we’re brewing based on the ingredients. Should be easy.”

You drop down into your seat and hold your head in your hands. “I can’t believe it… I’ve got a party-animal-slacker for a lab partner, and Azul’s got Riddle. It should’ve been me…”

Floyd lowers into the seat beside you. He opens his mouth, but the words remain lodged.

“Whatever. We can work around this,” you declare, straightening your tie and smoothing the wrinkles in your skirt. “We’ve got my ingredient list and the potions textbook. It’ll be fine.”

“See? You know what you’re doing. Shrimpy’s always thinkin’ smart.”

“I have to if I wanna make up for your shortcomings.”

Floyd holds his hands up in mock surrender.

“Let’s see… My list says this specific potion, which is to be sealed with cork and candle wax, is one that you ingest. So it isn’t any sort of spray or perfume, and it’s not a cosmetic either. It must be a liquid.”

“Could be a solid, too.”

“Like what?”

“Like enchanted foods. They sell ’em in town. Gummy worms that whisper gossip and lollipops that grant you temporary charms. Like the ability to see in the dark for some time. Cool stuff like that.”

“Or it could be medicinal.”

Floyd pouts, somewhat disheartened. “Or it could be medicinal.”

“This is an assignment from Professor Crewel, so it must be a relatively advanced potion. Let’s see…” You straighten your lab coat and pry the thick tome open. “Butterfly wings. Sapphire. Red clover. Pluteus villosus. The kiss of a person charmed or cursed. Huh…”

“Ooh, that’s a fun list.”

“It makes no chemical sense. If I remember, red clover and that mushroom are known to have medicinal properties when used in certain concoctions. But butterfly wings and sapphire…don’t.”

“My list called for salt if that’s any help.”

“But salt from what? The Coral Sea? Mermaid’s tears? Normal salt from a shaker?”

“Dunno. Why not try ’em all and see what we get?”

“I suppose process of elimination would prove useful here… But we can’t do that until we know the rest of what was on your list. Ugh… Seriously, Floyd, you’d better find that instruction sheet, or else I’m going to wring you out and use your tears as the salt—recipe be damned!”

Floyd smirks. “That a challenge?”

“It’s a threat.” You grab hold of his tie once more and force him to look you in the eyes. “Find that list. I’m not joking.”

“I’ll do my best, Teacher.”

You cut today’s meeting short on account of your fried brain and Floyd’s attention span.

On his way out of the lab room, Floyd says, “Bring your beaker next time. I’ll bring my stirring rod.”

And then he waltzes out, humming his way down the hall. You look at your belongings scattered on the table.

Of course I will. Why wouldn’t I? We need these materials to do the experiment.

Marking your place in the textbook, you shut it and decide to return to it after the day’s ended.

“Floyd’s in good form today,” Ace remarks as he laces his sneakers next to Jamil.

“That’s great news for us.” He gently knocks Ace’s head with his water bottle. “Let’s keep it that way. Don’t do anything to spoil that.”

“Course he’s feeling good,” their teammate joins in with a sleazy grin. “He didn’t show up to lunch. Bet he was busy rawing one of the cheerleaders. Who do you think’s the lucky lady?”

“Hard to say. They’re all super hot. If I gotta guess, though, it’s probably the captain. I heard she got her nipples pierced recently. Bet that’s a sight,” another interjects.

“Post-sex adrenaline’s gotta be something else if you’re Floyd,” Ace mumbles. “I dunno what everyone sees in him.”

“Dude’s funny, good-looking, athletic… Not that hard to check the rest of the boxes when you’re him.”

“(Name) thinks he’s a dumbass. Her exact words were ‘an unfunny clown who flouts classroom etiquette and rules completely.’” Ace puts on an impression of your voice as he quotes that phrase.

“What? The teacher’s pet? I think I had class with her last semester. She’s cute.”

“Ew, gross!”

“You’re telling me you wouldn’t fuck her stupid? Come on, man! The nerdy types are always freaks.”

Ace grimaces like the mere mention of you is going to infect him, but the blush on his face says otherwise. He’s picturing it.

“She’d be a perfect match with Rosehearts. Guy’s nuts for rules. She’s like a wet dream come to life for him.”

Ace punches his teammate. “Shaddup. She deserves better than that.” That last part is mumbled bitterly.

Jamil looks unenthused with this conversation. “Keep it down long enough to get through practice. Whatever you want to do after that is your own business.”

On the court, Floyd slams the ball through the net. It’s a flawless dunk.

Ace has to wonder: Does good pussy truly improve your performance on the court? 

Obscene moans spill from Floyd’s laptop. On the screen, folded into a mating press, a little scientist gets her brains fucked out by the monster she’s created. He’s laying on his stomach, fully immersed in the salacious scene and chewing on a lollipop stick. The lewd imagery reflects off his glasses.

Jade happens to glance at it from where he’s sat at his desk. It’s a hentai he’s seen before.

“You seem preoccupied.”

“Mhm.”

“I was under the impression you weren’t fond of the studious type.”

“Meh. I guess it’s fun in this one.” Floyd tracks the way the monster grinds his clawed thumb against the scientist’s clit. She squirts with a delighted squeal. It’s a fantastic visual. “You think they all wear those little lace two-pieces underneath their lab coats?”

“Who can say?”

“She’s got nothin’ in her head now, though.” Floyd pulls the stick from his mouth. His tongue curls around it. The scientist’s lab coat hangs off of her shoulder. Her tits look fuckable. Her whole body looks like the perfect canvas for dozens of bites, but there’s something missing. Something that just can’t be replicated from real life—obviously. It’s hentai and Floyd knows that. But… “Shrimpy’s not brainless like that.”

“Ah, so this is about (Name).”

Floyd doesn’t answer at first. He watches the woman’s stomach bulge, watches the way the monster’s cock slides in and out. The way they connect as if they were made for each other despite size and species.

“She smelled good today.”

“Humans often do.”

“This was a different smell. New Shrimpy smell… Sweeter. Comfortable. Like the smell of holidays on land.”

He remembers he caught a whiff of it when you met up to test various ingredients for the project. At the start, he assumed it was coming from the cauldron—the scent of some foreign mixture. But then you’d gotten closer to him, nearly pushed him out of the way in your impatience, and the smell hit him head-on.

“Perhaps a perfume?”

“Maybe.” He studies the table as it shudders from the force of the monster’s thrusts. He has the scientist’s legs pinned by her ears. She’s euphoric, mind melting and body burning. It’s almost chemical. “If it is, it’s a damn good perfume.”

There’s a spark of yearning in his chest, accompanied with a singular thought: I wanna be inside a little shrimpy scientist just like that.

Even if that means he’d be the monster.

Especially if that means he’d be the monster.

“I think it was comin’ from her benzene ring.”

“Her benzene ring?” Jade raises a brow, curious.

“I dunno… She just…seemed softer today. Like… Like talc.”

Jade struggles around a laugh. “Talc?”

“Yeah. On the hardness scale, it’s one of the softest minerals. You can scratch it with your nail. It’s real easy. That’s what she reminded me of.”

“Right. I’m aware. I just…wasn’t expecting that.”

“If she touched me, I’d be a ten on the scale.”

Plucking the moss ball from its container, held delicately between the tweezers, Jade lowers it into a glass terrarium. “What comedic chemical comparisons. You’d be a diamond, in that case.”

Floyd shuts his laptop just as the monster fills the scientist with copious amounts of thick, sticky cum. “Guess I would be.”

“Are you going to see her?”

In an indirect way, yeah.

He drags a small bag out from under his bed. “Nah. She said she’s gonna wring me out if I don’t figure out what kinda potion we’re making. Think I’ll procrastinate on that a little more. See how far it gets me.”

His brother chuckles. “Good luck.”

Floyd grins and shuts the door behind him. He beelines for the showers, not wasting a single second running hot water and stripping down. He fucks you in that cubic shower stall—or part of you. The synthetic part, anyway. The part he’s named after you because who else would he want curled around his cock and coming undone like in hentai? Forums say an onahole can’t compare to the real thing, but then of course it couldn’t. Just in the same way cotton velour can’t compare to silk velvet. Floyd would know that and he’s never had real pussy before. 

In the back of his mind, just as he spills his load inside for the third time, he thinks he’d taste that same smell he caught today if he parted your legs and dove in.

Maybe you’d squirm just like the little scientist beneath her beloved monster.

Ostensibly, you’ve made progress.

The molten mixture in the cauldron looks promising. A small amount is scooped up in the beaker for further study. It looks like liquid gold and smells overwhelmingly like a confectionery. You set it down on the table and peel your gloves off.

“I’m gonna try it once it’s cooled.”

Floyd shakes his head. “I’ll do it.”

“I’m the one who mixed it.”

“What if it kills you?”

“Then I die a genius.”

Floyd whistles. “Big words for Shrimpy.”

“It’s only right that I take responsibility for… Actually, if it does incapacitate me somehow, the project might not get done and we need someone with a functioning brain to complete the task… Floyd!”

He stands rigidly at attention, saluting you as if you’re a drill sergeant.

“Drink this and let me study its effect on you.” You pass the beaker to him while poring over your notes. “The color looks correct, the fragrance is fine, albeit a little stronger than normal, and it’s completely opaque. This has to be it!”

Floyd tilts the sample. The glittering liquid sloshes around. “What’s it supposed to be?”

“If I’m correct, which I’m certain I am, this is a mood stabilizer of some sort. The mushroom I got from Jade is supposedly hallucinogenic.”

Floyd cringes. “Yuck.”

“You don’t have to drink it if you aren’t sure, but I’m very positive that’s what it is. A mood stabilizer meant to boost a mage’s happiness.”

“We don’t gotta use magic for that. Can’t ya just go outside and lay in the sun if ya wanna be happy?”

“I don’t know,” you say, exasperated. “We added the salt from your list, and you suggested adding sunflower. Maybe this’ll work.”

“I dunno, Shrimpy.” Floyd sniffs it and draws back. “Are mood stabilizers supposed to smell this strong? If this is supposed to make me happy, the smell’s not doin’ it for me.”

“It’ll be fine. You don’t have to drink the whole thing. Look, right here. The book clearly lists the same ingredients we used, and we followed the same brewing and mixing process.”

“If Shrimpy thinks so…”

Pinching the bridge of his nose, Floyd downs the sample in a single gulp. You watch him with a scientific sort of fascination and wonder just how many parties he’s had to go to to master that trick.

“Done,” he mutters gravelly, wiping his lips with the back of his hand.

“How’d it taste? According to the book, it’s supposed to taste flowery with a hint of salt.”

“Tastes fresh. Like peppermint.”

“Peppermint?” you echo, bewildered. “No… No, that’s not right. It shouldn’t.”

Immediately, you consult the book again.

Floyd squints blindly at the words from where he sits beside you, his elbow propped on the table. “Didn’t we also add nettle leaf?”

“What? No. The recipe didn’t call for—” You round on him just then. “Did you slip something in?”

He shrugs. “It was lookin’ like a boring potion anyways. Thought it’d be more fun this way.”

You lower your head onto the open book and groan into the pages. “Not even magic can replicate the amount of stupidity you’ve just showcased.”

“Hey, I’m just following the pattern. You said those things had medicinal properties, so I thought nettle leaf would fit in with that.”

“So then what did we make?” You lift your head to look at him. “Do you feel any happier? Any symptoms?”

“All the same over here.”

“So now we’re back to where we began…” You slap his hand away when he reaches for a clean vial. “Hands off. Let me do it.”

“C’mon. I wanna help. Lemme help.”

“Are you trying to get us kicked out of the lab? If something explodes, Professor Crewel’ll be on our asses in no time.”

Floyd rolls his eyes, but he obeys.

“Okay. Fresh start. Clean slate. If we follow the same recipe using the ingredients on our list… Hmm.”

You retrieve your notebook and open to a fresh page to begin jotting down ideas.

What am I missing?

“These are the ones with medicinal properties, but then psilocybin can also imply…” Your pen flies across the page as you work to construct a new mixture. “So maybe, if we’re using these things, it might work. And then… Sapphire is commonly associated with romance and truth… A potion that makes you speak the truth? Ah, but there’s also luck and healing… Is that it? Taking into account the mushroom… No, there’s also the red clover, butterfly wings, and the kiss. Oh, the kiss! We didn’t add that.”

You dig through your bag for lipstick and set it on the table. “The kiss of someone charmed or cursed. If it’s someone cursed, we can assume the potion will then have ingredients meant to reverse said curse. If they’re charmed…”

Unable to make a concise deduction, you deflate against your chair. This would be so much simpler if Floyd hadn’t lost his instructions!

Speaking of your lab partner, he’s been eerily quiet. You glance at him and find he’s looking right back, unfalteringly focused. That’s new for Floyd Leech.

“What’s wrong?”

Floyd blinks slowly, as if he’s thawing from a case of ice. His pupils are impossibly wide, so much so they’re like two black voids. And then he jerks away, his cheeks hot with a fierce, crimson blush. You watch him fidget in his seat. For once, he isn’t the silver-tongued, smart-mouthed jock who oozes confidence from his pores. Right now, he looks uncomfortable and awkward. Like a boy who’s just held hands with his crush for the first time.

“N-Nothing.”

You sigh. “It’s not ‘nothing’. It’s obviously something. What’s wrong?” You lean closer, scrutinizing his sweaty face. “Do you feel sick? Are you about to vomit? Are you running a fever?”

He smacks your arm away when you reach to feel his forehead. And then he coughs out an odd laugh. It’s unlike any sound you’ve ever heard him make. “How about let’s not…do…that?” His gaze darts to your chest and then your skirt and then your stocking-clad legs.

You understand his thoughts at once.

“Oh, grow up. I’m trying to check if you’re chemically, physically, and mentally stable.”

“I know that. S’just…” He swallows thickly. “K-Kinda hard…to focus.”

You spot the strain in his uniform slacks and then the sweat that beads at his brow. There’s a glaze to his two-toned eyes that wasn’t there before.

“Ah, I understand. We’ve mixed a common aphrodisiac.” Turning away from him, you flip a few pages in your textbook. “Let’s see… Red clover is supposedly good with fertility and then the mushroom increases the effect of the afflicted’s most potent desires, and then the nettle leaf has nutrients that support reproductive health. The other stuff we added either balances the mixture or makes it stronger.” You peer into the cauldron next. “The color matches that in the book and so does the smell. It says nothing about peppermint, though. How peculiar…”

“So… So was that it?” Floyd rests his head on the table and inhales a shaky breath. “We got it right?”

“No.”

“Oh.”

“We’ll keep trying. For now, you should drink some water. It says the effect shouldn’t last longer than an hour. Of course, if we wanted to save time, you could just ejaculate and then it should be out of your system. Otherwise, you’ll just have to let it wear off. Kinda like when you’re drunk.”

Floyd grits his teeth. “Sounds real fun.”

You frown. “Sorry. I… Maybe I should’ve taken it.”

“No,” he says quickly, shaking his head. “Better me than you.”

“Hm.” You flip a few pages in the textbook. “We have limited resources, so I’m afraid I can’t brew a cure. We either wait it out or I help you.”

Floyd’s head snaps up from the table. “You… You’re gonna help me?”

“I need someone to reach the top shelves. Can’t do that when he’s doubled over with a hard-on.”

Floyd bites the inside of his cheek.

“Here. Sit up and relax.” Your hand ghosts over his crotch. He does the opposite of relax. In fact, he tenses so badly you think he’ll become a statue.

“A-Are you sure you wanna…?”

“I don’t see what the issue is. You’ve probably gotten way better from other girls. Just bear with it for now.”

“S’not that…” he trails off, staring at your throat as it bobs with your every swallow. “W-Whatever. Go ahead…”

“If you get my lab coat dirty, I’ll kill you.”

Floyd’s chest rumbles with a delirious laugh. He makes quick work of undoing the button and zip on his slacks and then, very clumsily, he fishes his cock out of his boxers. You notice they’re patterned with polka dots and little cartoon eels. It’s not the sort of underwear that’d pop into your mind when you imagine the sex-addicted jock everyone in the school lusts after.

With a swish of your magic pen, the lab door shuts and locks. You rifle through your bag to procure a small jar of aloe vera. Floyd watches you intensely, his gaze never wavering.

Unscrewing the lid, you dip your fingers into the gel. 

“We can make good use of this,” you say conversationally as you wrap your slick hand around his achingly hard cock. Floyd bristles and sucks in air through his teeth. “Moray semen could be used in a potion of some sort. I’d like to test it sometime.”

He stares at you, absolutely mystified. It’s then when Floyd realizes he’s misjudged you entirely. You’re more than a Teacher’s Pet. In fact, you’re his exact type. Better than any girl he’s ever seen in hentai.

His cock throbs under your touch. Your hand is warm and soft against his shaft. It moves up and down in a hypnotizing rhythm, and suddenly there’s no other place in the world he’d rather be than right here at your side, led closer and closer to the ledge by your hand alone. You don’t spare him another glance, returning your attention to the book. You pick up your pen with your free hand and, like a real scientist unbothered by external variables, you’re back to working in your own little world.

In an effort to provide a modicum of support, Floyd squints through glazed eyes. “C-Can’t you… Fuck.” He bows his head and bites down hard on his lip. Blood pools to the surface. He tastes it on his tongue. “Move the page closer?”

“You can’t read it?”

Floyd opens and closes his mouth. “Can’t see it. S’all blurry.”

This draws your gaze. He struggles to pick an area of your face to look at. Either way, every inch of you is pretty. Even that perplexed expression sets his body aflame—or maybe that’s the work of the aphrodisiac. He’s not sure. He doesn’t care much either way. You may as well be more mighty than the spell itself, for it’s left his cock weeping pre-cum in your fist.

“What do you mean?”

“I normally wear contacts. Morays have shitty eyesight,” he explains, hissing when you squeeze him experimentally. He proceeds with caution. “But I lost ’em a while back. I’ve got glasses as a back-up.”

“So why don’t you wear them? Don’t tell me you lost those, too.”

Floyd lifts his shoulders. He should—he really should—but he’s learned to function with bad vision ever since he first lost his contacts. “Don’t feel like it.”

“That’s foolish. You should wear your glasses. Then you won’t have to struggle so much.”

Floyd aims for flirty. “Ooh, so Shrimpy wants to see what I look like in glasses?” 

“I think you’d enjoy being able to see clearly more than my own curiosity.”

And he falls embarrassingly flat.

You resume your scribbling. He doesn’t say anything else, choosing to brace himself against the table with a grip so tight it whitens his knuckles and tenses the muscles in his hands. He’s panting like he’s just finished a grueling workout. Rather than sounds of exhaustion, though, they’re more like great gulps of air as he struggles to keep his composure. He’s a merman; they don’t possess wings, but he certainly feels like he’s flying in this moment, caught up in the clouds with his crush.

It’s better than any fantasy he’s ever conjured—better than any hentai—and you’re oblivious to it.

“That’s it! I’ve figured it out!”

You squeeze his length tightly. And that’s all it takes to rocket him up into outer space. He inhales sharply, squeezes his eyes shut, and hangs his head when he cums. It’s messy and sticky, but that doesn’t deter you in the slightest. Mercifully allowing him to ride out his wave, you continue to slowly pump him. Pearly cum drools from his tip.

“Mm, s’great… Good job. Knew you could do it,” he mutters, dazed and dumb.

The pounding of his heart is incessant like the buzz of cicadas in summer. Did that really just happen?

But then you do the unthinkable, and for a single second he thinks he’s still sitting in his room, hunched over his laptop and watching hentai.

Like a succubus, you clean his cum from your fingers in just a few licks. He tracks your tongue the entire time. Did that really just happen?

“It’s either a love potion, a remedy of some sort, or a type of transformation potion. One of these three—I’m sure of it! We’ll spend next week testing each one, so be ready.” You toss your head back and drink from your water bottle, unfazed. It’s both the coolest and hottest thing he’s ever seen. “Does that sound good to you, Floyd?” 

There’s a determined fire blazing in your eyes. He smiles dreamily.

“Anything for Shrimpy.”

You match his energy with a joyous giggle. “Thanks for your hard work, Floyd!”

He wants to ask, but he stops himself. Is it so wrong to want you to experiment some more on him?

Maybe that’s asking too much.

“Floyd, you were a monster out there!”

He wipes the sweat from his face and neck and then turns to look at the few teammates who’ve crowded around him.

“Wasn’t a big deal. I just played like I normally do.”

“Uh, it kinda was, though!” Ace says, pushing through the throng. “You actually managed to stay in the game!”

“And we scored more than we usually do!”

“Impressive work,” Jamil adds from where he sits on a nearby bench, tightening his laces.

“What’s your secret? Didja get laid before the game?”

“You totally did, right? Who was it? You gotta hook me up, man!”

“What? No way! Send her my way.”

Floyd gazes at all of them, wondering what in the deep, blue sea they’re prattling on about. He’s only just tuned in on today’s locker room gossip. His head has been in the clouds ever since his last meeting with you. The feeling is fuzzy, snug like a duvet fresh from the dryer.

“You wanna know my secret?” he asks, leering at the lot of them. The difference in height makes this possible, and he takes full advantage of it.

Some of them shrink back, but the few emboldened teammates inch closer.

“Ya can’t have her. She’s all mine.”

“No way. You’re actually serious with this one? Who is it?”

“Bet it’s the cheer captain.”

“Dude, my money’s on the hottie from Magic History.”

“What do you think, Jamil?”

“Does it really matter?” he asks, his tone monotonous.

“It does! No fair Floyd gets good luck pussy while we’re all stranded over here.”

Floyd can’t understand humans sometimes. Why would I share my Shrimpy hole with these small fry? That’s all for me.

Because the team was definitely referring to his sex toy, right?

Surprisingly, Floyd’s waiting for you in the lab when you poke your head inside. He has everything laid out, and he’s even started working on some of the formulas to ensure a successful brew.

And this time he’s wearing his glasses.

You almost don’t want to break his focus, but he senses your presence and glances your way before you can duck out.

“Oh, hey. Sorry for interrupting.”

“S’all good.”

“Were you waiting long? I was a little caught up.”

You recall your chat with Riddle, who told you he already solved the missing ingredient with Azul, and wince. You’re certain you would’ve been in that same position if not for Floyd’s carelessness.

“Nah.”

Heaving a relieved sigh, you venture deeper into the room and deposit your bag on the nearest chair.

“What have you been doing?”

“Brainstorming. Directions said we gotta seal it with wax afterwards. I only know a few potions that call for seals. Most of ’em are either super volatile, dangerous, or need time to ferment.”

“So you’re thinking…?”

“Maybe it really is a love potion. We were kinda on the right track last time. We just gotta figure out what we need to subtract and add to get it right.”

Taken aback by his initiative, you nod mechanically. “And we still need the kiss.”

“And we still need the kiss,” he affirms.

“Then what’re we missing? There’s salt, red clover, sapphire, the Pluteus villosus, and the butterfly wings.” You shuffle over to him and glance at his notes. “Oh, you’ve broken down the chemical components of each of these. Wow…”

“It’s not that hard.”

You bite your tongue. It was hard when I was learning it…

“So what about the kiss?”

“I’ll do it.”

“But you’re not cursed.”

Floyd smiles at his textbook. “Not cursed.”

“If you insist… If it gives you a hard-on again, I’m not helping you.”

“Aww. So mean. And I thought you wanted a li’l sample of moray for your next experiment.”

You elbow him harshly, to which he laughs. Observing Floyd as he is now, you begin to regret your original assessment of him. It was rather scathing.

I was wrong about him. He’s not the Dumb Jock.

“Do you want to pursue something in science after you graduate?”

“Not really. I think it’s interesting, yeah, but not enough to wanna shape my whole life around it. Y’know?”

“Ah.”

“I kinda wanna design stuff. Crewel’s been givin’ me pointers.”

“Design? As in, fashion design?” You furrow your brow. “Huh. I never would’ve guessed.”

“What about you? Bet Shrimpy’s got an entire life plan laid out. Super responsible-like.”

“I wouldn’t go that far,” you say, laughing woodenly. “I have a general idea.”

“Yeah?” Floyd grabs a vial from off the shelf and empties the contents into the cauldron. The silver liquid bubbles as it’s stirred in. “I’m sure you’ll do it—whatever it is you wanna do. You’re smart.”

“Thanks…”

He beams and tosses the rest of the measured ingredients in. You’re content to watch him, trusting in his judgment. When it comes time for the kiss, he gestures to your bag.

“You still have that lipstick you always carry around?”

“Yeah. Why?”

“Put some on me and then hold up that blank sheet there.”

“Are you sure that’s going to work?”

“Maybe.”

“That doesn’t sound very convincing…”

Still, you retrieve the tube and apply it to Floyd’s lips. This proximity gives him the chance to admire you up-close while you focus on his lips. He smacks them twice to make sure they’re coated properly and then, while you’re holding up the clean parchment, leans in. When he pulls back, there’s a ruby-red lipstick mark where there wasn’t before.

Using magic, Floyd then extracts the print. You watch in awe as it’s dissolved in the solution. Vibrancy explodes within the cauldron, turning silver into plumeria-pink.

“Whoa…”

Floyd passes you a wooden paddle. You take it from him and dip it into the cauldron. As you stir in time with Floyd, listening to him mutter the enchantment, you think back on the past few weeks. 

I’ve had such a narrow-minded view of him this entire time, and yet here he is proving all of my misguided opinions incorrect.

“Did you ever figure out the missing components?”

“Mhm. My list had salt, honey, and peppermint.”

“How’d you know it was those two?”

“Cuz honey’s sweet and peppermint’s refreshing. Two feelings you experience when you’re in love. And that’s what it called for according to an older recipe. I found it in the library.”

“You actually did research on your own time?”

“Well, I don’t wanna fail.”

“And here I thought I was losing brain cells having you as my lab partner.”

“Ouch.”

“Sorry. I… I shouldn’t have thought that. I know better now.”

“Doesn’t bother me. Sides, I got to see a whole new side of Shrimpy, so it works out.”

“A whole new side?”

“Ooh, you wanna know the secret ingredient? The one we were supposed to find.”

“I do! What was it?”

“Cacao beans.”

“Really?”

“Yep. Pretty cool, right? The perfect love potion is all about bittersweetness.”

“I get it. So the mushroom completely blindsides and fools the afflicted into thinking they’re in love. It’s all hallucinogenic. Sapphire enhances that effect, and red clover stabilizes it. Honey makes it sweet. The butterfly wings contribute to that fluttery feeling in your stomach shortly after you’ve ingested it. Peppermint adds a refreshing aftertaste. Yes, of course! It all makes sense.”

“And salt flavors it. Sorta.”

“What a complicated mixture.”

“Was a real pain tryin’ to get the order correct, especially when the recipe’s written in old runes.”

You and Floyd stare into the bubbling cauldron. It smells just as it should. It looks just as it should. Without a doubt, it’s a perfect product.

“At least we did it. I’m so ready to wipe my hands of this project.”

“Took the words right outta my mouth.”

Just as instructed, you and Floyd bottle it. Next, you light a candle and pour wax over the cork. For extra flourish, you tie a ribbon around the neck of the bottle. You hold it up to the light to check its transparency, or lack thereof. It’s an impenetrable pink—just like in the textbook. A beautiful success if you’ve ever seen one.

“Now all that’s left is to turn this in to Professor Crewel and wait for his analysis.” You set the bottle down. “Good work, Floyd.”

He preens under your praise. “It was nothin’. Thanks for all the help, Shrimpy.”

Mirroring each other’s giddiness, the both of you bump fists.

Floyd lies on his back, his arm raised to the ceiling. He flexes his fingers absently and recalls the feeling of your hand on his skin. 

Did that mean anything, or was that just a standard chemical reaction?

“Perhaps you ought to illustrate the way you feel using symbols on the periodic table.”

Floyd glares at his brother from across the room. Once again, he’s sat at his desk, carefully arranging the plant life in a new terrarium.

“That’s way too lame.”

“Really? I find it to be rather creative.”

“I’m not a loser.”

“Your earlier comparisons made me think otherwise.”

He’s overcome with the strongest urge to knock Jade’s teeth out of his mouth. Exercising a mere sliver of restraint, Floyd turns over on his side and hugs his body pillow against his chest. There’s a magical girl dressed in a frilly outfit printed on it, smiling brightly as she holds her magical staff up to vanquish evil. Most nights, as he often does with many personal belongings that fill the emptiness in his heart, he pretends it’s you.

“You’re talking a lot for someone who’d be better off without his tongue…”

“How harsh. And here I was willing to offer advice to my dear, troubled brother.”

“You can stuff it. I don’t want your advice.”

He turns his back on Jade and huffs, which earns him a chuckle.

Maybe it didn’t mean anything after all.

He buries his face in the pillow. Hentai makes it look so simple, but love itself is just another convoluted chemical reaction. It’s even more so under the sea.

Floyd shuts his eyes.

I guess this means we won’t see each other during lunch anymore…

Professor Crewel has graced you and Floyd with a passing grade. You expected this, so it isn’t a very jarring shock, but it’s still pleasant nonetheless.

“I knew you’d pass!” Deuce says as you walk between him and Ace, proudly flashing the graded assignment sheet. “To think you managed it even with a guy like Floyd…”

“He’s not so bad.”

“What’s this? A dramatic change of heart?” Ace pokes and prods, standing so close you can smell his cologne.

You roll your eyes. “He wasn’t a total pain. It was quite nice, actually.”

“You sure that’s all that happened? I heard you were skipping lunch with him…”

“To do the project—”

“So she could get the project done, dumbass,” Deuce speaks over you. “Besides, Floyd’s not (Name)’s type.”

“Hey, how come I’ve never heard about this type?”

“Does it really matter what my type is?”

“Yeah, it does! I gotta see if you have good taste. Us guys can be so terrible, y’know. Total slobs. Gotta make sure my (Name) keeps her eyes on the good ones.”

You slap his arm lightly. “And you’re definitely not one of them, wearing that cheap, casanova cologne!”

Ace sputters, his cheeks tinged pink. “Y-You just can’t recognize greatness when you smell it!”

Deuce snickers. “Greatness that costs fifty-percent off.”

“So now I’m lame for wanting to save money? Geez. You’re assholes.”

Giggling, you wrap your arms around the both of them and pull them in close. “It’s done out of love.”

“Gimme a break.” Ace groans.

Your little trio carries on down the hall, ignorant to the rest of the students who pass you by.

Floyd looks up, his ears pricking. He smells you before he hears you. It’s not the same, nor is it as strong as the sticky-sweet scent from before, but it’s still enticing in its own right.

“You should talk to her,” Jade encourages, following his line of sight. “Invite her to this year’s Wintertide. I’m sure she’ll consider it, at the very least.”

Floyd narrows his eyes. “My odds ain’t zero.”

“They aren’t one-hundred either.”

Jade speaks like he doesn’t value his teeth. But it’s all intentional. He’ll push and push until Floyd stumbles out of his cowardly mold. Maybe one day.

‘One day’ is so vague, but it isn’t without hope.

After all, you’re an alkali metal and he’s the water who’ll cradle explosive, enchanting you. And where there’s water, there’s sure to be a reaction.

His feet carry him away from Jade and towards you. He descends like a spontaneous tempest. Ace and Deuce flinch back in surprise when he all but squeezes between the three of you.

“Shrimpy!”

And this time you look at him with a bright grin—not the scalding vexation you’d first leveled him with.

“Floyd!”

It’s deliciously chemical.

[doumadono]

OK hear me out? What is the MHA boys? Dabi, Hawks, Bakugo, Deku, or any other character with reader, who surprised them by dressing up as them for Halloween (since that spooky season is just around the corner😁) what do you think?

A/N: What a delightful idea, dear anon! I believe it would indeed take them all by surprise!

MASTERLIST

Dabi

At first, Dabi would be completely caught off guard, staring them in disbelief.

"You know, you've got some guts, dressing up like me."

Dabi would likely keep a close eye on them throughout the night, intrigued by their dedication.

After the initial shock, he might smirk and sarcastically comment on how they managed to nail his signature look.

"Alright, your costume's not half bad. Maybe you're not completely useless."

Eventually, he'd admit that their costume was pretty cool, but he'd still maintain his aloof demeanor.

Hawks

Hawks would burst into laughter when he saw the reader dressed up as him, finding it absolutely hilarious.

"You really went all out! I love it."

Hawks might challenge them to a "pose-off," seeing who can mimic his heroic stances the best.

Hawks would generously offer a couple of his feathers to enhance their costume.

He might suggest taking flight together, giving them a taste of what it's like to soar through the night sky.

Bakugo

Bakugo would likely explode in anger at first, thinking the reader was mocking him.

"You think you can outdo me, huh? We'll see about that!"

However, after a moment of intense ranting, he'd begrudgingly admit that their costume was pretty accurate.

"Fine, your costume is decent. Don't get used to compliments."

By the end of the night, he might grumble that their costume was "passable" but still secretly appreciate their effort.

Deku

Deku would be overjoyed and genuinely flattered to see someone dressed up as him.

He'd likely approach them with a big smile, thanking them for choosing his costume.

"Wow, I can't believe you dressed up as me! It's amazing! I'm feeling honoured!"

Deku might even share some of his favorite hero stories and moments with them.

"When I was a kid, I always wanted to be All Might for Halloween," Deku'd open up.

By the end of the night, Deku would feel a deep connection with them and consider them a new friend.

[squadmuse]

PUZZLE PIECE

A MATT CASEY X F!READER FIC

A/N: So this idea was originally inspired from babysitting my nephew, and I just had to write it for Matt… again dedicated to @deanstead who is amazing and her anons got me into this dad!Matt rut.

It had been a quiet July morning when Matt Casey had arrived for work at Firehouse 51, with a special guest in tow.

“Now sweetheart, Daddy has to go to work, but you’ll be absolutely fine here,” said Matt to his three-year-old daughter, Emma, who was held securely in his arms against his hip. Known as Emmy in the family he shared with you, his wife, she was an adorable little girl and the apple of her father’s eye.

It was the summer vacation, and sadly, little Emmy’s daycare had ended up closed due to an outbreak of chickenpox. Usually, when this happened, you’d take her to the daycare at Chicago Med but you and Matt had happened to awake that morning to find out your other three children were suffering from a very mild sickness bug. This meant that you were home with Emmy’s three older siblings while Matt took her to work with him.

The three-year-old rubbed one of her bright blue eyes. “Uh huh, Daddy,” said Emmy as she laid her head against his broad shoulder. Matt smiled as he walked along and into the building.

He had just walked onto the app floor when he spotted the members of Squad Three already sitting around their table, playing cards. Instantly, each member lit up at the sight of the two Caseys.

Kelly quickly made his way over to Matt and Emmy, and plucked the three-year-old out of her father’s arms, to her delight. Matt smiled as Emma giggled in her godfather’s arms. Kelly was the closest thing he had to a brother, and he very much considered him to be one.

“If it isn’t my favorite little girl!” exclaimed Kelly loudly to the toddler.

“No, no, Uncle Kelly!” giggled Emmy as Kelly began to playfully tickle her, her little rosy cheeks pinking up even further.

Kelly grinned at Matt as he relented, letting Emmy rest in his arms. She was very much a Daddy’s girl, but the littlest Casey absolutely adored her godfather too. “Hey man, where’s the rest of the fam?” he asked Matt, looking behind the Captain of Truck 81 as if to see you bringing up the rear with his three other godchildren.

“Sickness bug,” commented Matt as he shrugged his bag further up his shoulder. Kelly instantly understood.

“So, Emmy is here for the day?” he asked Matt.

“Yeah, we didn’t want Em getting sick too,” said Matt.

Kelly nodded and so did the toddler in his arms.

“Me not sick,” said Emmy out loud. “No sicky!”

The two men chuckled. “Is that so?” asked Kelly.

Emmy nodded seriously.

Kelly hummed, grinning at her. “Well, that means you can have one of Auntie Stella’s cookies?” he smiled at his goddaughter, whose blue eyes lit up like a Christmas tree at the mere mention of cookies.

“Down please!” she squealed, to which Kelly allowed. It didn’t take long for Emmy to find her feet again and run off to the open door. The three-year-old had grown up in the firehouse, visiting even before she was born, and she was familiar with the layout even though Matt and you never let her venture far alone.

Matt and Kelly chuckled as they heard Emmy start to call out for her Auntie Stella, and the two firefighters headed off to follow Matt’s little girl.

Luckily, as they reached the kitchen and recreational area, it seemed that Emmy had found Stella, and was already munching on a chocolate chip cookie happily.

Stella grinned widely as Matt appeared alongside Kelly, her husband. “You should’ve told me my favorite little gal was coming by!” exclaimed Stella as she bounced Emmy, making her giggle.

Matt nodded, making his way over to his daughter and wiping the chocolate off her cheek. “I’ll make sure next time,” he chuckled, taking Emmy into his arms as she reached out for him.

Stella grinned as she ruffled Emmy’s hair. “You better, Captain! This little cutie pie is just so cute,” she said, tickling Emmy much like her husband had done moments before.

“Cute!” repeated Emmy, looking up at her dad, placing her tiny hand against his cheek. Matt smiled, feeling his heart grow even fonder and larger due to his little girl.

“You’re the cute one,” chuckled Matt to Emmy as Stella awwed loudly. There was no denying that fact. However, Emmy’s attention didn’t stay focused on her father, aunt or godfather for much longer as she spotted Tuesday wander into the room with Ritter, Gallo and Herrmann.

“Tues! Tues!” cried the three-year-old, who began to wrestle herself out of her dad’s arms in order to get down to the Dalmatian dog. Emmy couldn’t quite say Tuesday yet but neither she or Tuesday seemed to care as Matt carefully let his youngest child pet the dog.

Emmy’s giggles seemed to ignite within the room as Tuesday excitedly licked her face, Matt and Ritter keeping a close eye alongside everyone else in the room.

“Hey pumpkin,” said Herrmann as he crouched down beside Emmy, her father, Tuesday and Ritter. “I swear you get bigger and bigger every time I see you!”

Emmy waved at him, making the Engine lieutenant smile widely. “Me three now! I go swing with Mama,” she said to Herrmann.

“Oh you do? Annabelle likes the swings too,” replied Herrmann with a grin as he talked about his only daughter. “Likes to give her old man a heart attack too, launching out of them too,” he added, glancing at Matt.

Matt grimaced. “Don’t give her ideas, Herrmann, we Caseys might have heads made out of stone, but I’m still trying to calm down after Joshua broke his arm jumping out of a tree last week,” he commented to Herrmann. “I don’t need my little girl trying to kill me doing the same on a swing.”

“No, no Daddy!” said Emmy as she wandered to the side away from Tuesday and towards where Mouch sat watching the television. “Mama say no, no, Josh hurt!” she chimed in her innocent voice.

Matt nodded again, he was lucky to have such a smart little girl, not that his other children were not, but he hoped that Emma Casey would be the mellowest Casey. “That’s right, listen to Mama, sweetheart.”

Emmy nodded as she determinedly tried to pull herself up onto the couch beside Mouch. As the older man went to help her up, she squealed out loud and made Tuesday bark out loud.

“No, no! I do! I do!” exclaimed Emmy, pulling herself away from Mouch, who looked at her and then Matt with confusion.

Matt shrugged. “The independence stage has hit with a vengeance, Mouch don’t take it to heart,” he commented, watching as his daughter tried to pull herself up. Even at three years old, Matt was impressed with the amount of determination and resilience his daughter had.

“Ahh, a Casey through and through then,” vocalised Mouch, who started to pet Tuesday as she sat next to the couch.

Herrmann chuckled as he stood now beside the door-frame. “You need eyes on the back of your head, especially with the youngest… I don’t know how many times Kenny tried copying his big brothers and sister, landing himself in the ER!” he commented, watching Emmy successfully climb onto the couch.

Everyone in the room clapped in celebration as she did and Emmy beamed happily. Even in his happiest of hearts, Matt hated seeing his youngest become more and more independent and growing up. She was his baby.

Seeing as Mouch had put Dora the Explorer on, which harnessed the complete attention of Emmy, it was then that Matt decided to head off to his quarters to leave his and Emmy’s bags and get some paperwork. He would do the paperwork in the common room area at the table and chair beside the couch as it’d allow Matt the opportunity to work while keeping an eye on his daughter.

Walking over to Emmy, he leaned down and placed a kiss on her forehead. “Daddy won’t be gone long okay, kiddo,” he told her. Emmy nodded.

“Kiss kiss, bye bye Daddy,” chirped Emmy, making Matt smile lovingly. That little phrase was a new thing she had started saying whenever he or someone went away. It was absolutely adorable.

Matt glanced over at Herrmann who had sat down at the long lunch table with a newspaper, Mouch bringing over two cups of coffee for them both. “Herrmann, keep an eye on my little girl while I go to my quarters.”

Herrmann nodded as he took a gulp of his coffee. “Will do, Captain,” he replied.

Knowing that Herrmann, a father of five, was there, Matt hurried off out the door. Reaching his quarters, he opened up the glass door and went inside. The little rectangular room had not changed much ever since Matt had become Lieutenant all those years ago, but it held a lot of memories, both good and bad.

Now, there were some changes to his quarters. That was undeniable. Underneath Matt’s bunk was a small box of toys and blankets for whenever his young children visited. There were numerous photographs that he had carefully framed and hung up on the stone walls that told the story of the Caseys.

Sitting down in his chair, Matt smiled pensively at them all. There was a photo from your first date together at Mollys that Sylvie had taken. Then there were the photos from your engagement party and wedding, and Matt couldn’t help but grin as he reminisced about those moments. But his heart swelled even further as he saw the photographs of his four children with you, from womb to now. His two little boys and two little girls with you. They were nothing short of miraculous in Matt’s eyes.

Sighing, he got up and quickly got together the reports and other documents he needed to complete and file today. Slipping back out and locking the door, Matt made his way back to the common area and passed by Stella, who was on the phone with someone. However, as Matt entered the room, he instantly locked eyes with the couch and saw that his daughter was no longer sitting there.

“Herrmann! Where is Emmy?” commanded Matt to the lieutenant, who was arguing slightly with Mouch, Gallo and Ritter over something to do with Mollys. Each one of them quietened instantly at their Captain’s sharp tone.

Herrmann gasped and hurried over. “Shit! She was just there, I swear Casey!” he yelped, frantically looking around the room with his eyes for any chance that the blonde toddler was simply sitting elsewhere.

“I just gave her a juice box!” exclaimed Mouch.

Matt hummed as he rubbed his temples. It was now that he had a good idea of where his daughter could be and most likely was.

“I can search the entire firehouse top to bottom, Captain!” said Gallo seriously. He was quite close to you and Matt, ever since he had been taken under Matt’s wing and mentored by the Truck 81 Captain. He absolutely adored the four Casey children.

Ritter nodded, Tuesday beside him. “Me too, we can go now, Captain,” he stated, getting up to go and do it but Matt gestured for him to sit down.

“No need, I know where my daughter is now,” replied Matt before he turned on his heel and hurried back out the way he had just arrived. Pushing through the doors to the app floor, it was there that Matt did find his little girl.

There was three-year-old Emma Casey, sitting perched on her godfather’s knee, with a Squad Three cap on her little head, as she enthusiastically participated in a jigsaw puzzle with Kelly, Tony, Capp and Cruz encouraging her every step. Her juice box sat on the table next to her.

Matt stood there, watching as his little girl laughed and giggled, placing each piece of the puzzle together as if it were a piece of his heart. Emma was the finishing piece to the jigsaw puzzle that was the heart of one Matthew Casey.

[randomfoggytiger]

The X-Files 30th Anniversary

Day 7: 30th Anniversary Extravaganza

Today, I'm thanking The X-Files community for bringing me across a wonderful show-- its amazing cast and writers and fans-- and inspiring me to get back on my own creative hobbyhorse.

My Thanks

Being a part of a collective who want to celebrate this show and others' creative endeavors with heartfelt good wishes has been exciting, fun... and humbling.

My special thanks to the many people who welcomed me with open arms and contribute to this space, even if it's "simply" (but it's never just anything, is it?) answering asks or reblogging or even liking a random post that passed from one blog to another.

There are too many to list, so I'll just chat about my most remembered moments:

@baronessblixen, for being so kind and encouraging that you drew me out of the anon shadows; for liking what I create; for giving me a logical mind to bounce my ideas off of in asks; and for inadvertently teaching me the joy of appreciating animal videos (and convincing me, along with Vavie, to watch Return to Me.)

@dd-is-my-guiltypleasure, for our cherished Duchovny talks; for your heart and your amazingly detailed dedication; for your artbook that I prize dearly; and for your warmth and good humor.

@suitablyaggrieved, for your spectacular and refreshing meta takes; for persevering in your creative works and this fandom; and for sharing the progress pics of your beautiful X-Files themed sweater.

@welsharcher, for being my mini Kermit-loving pool noodle~ (I love brightening your day as much as your messages brighten mine); for your gifs and posts that make my heart soar; and for our shared, priceless sense of humor.

@agent-troi, for being a solidly intelligent third party to the Pre-S1 Mulder Singleton Club; for your hilarious hashtags and great insights; and for your amazing fic output.

@mondfuchs/@annablume, for swapping XF fic recs in my early Tumblr days; and for making my year by drawing my little boopy-tongued tiger in Mulder's arms to celebrate our collective birthday (post here. Still makes me sappy thinking about it~.)

@amplifyme, for returning to Tumblr and giving me a chance to meet you; for sharing your excellent BATB series (in general and Nan Dibble in particular); and for sharing your thoughts as you slowly peel back the psyche of Vincent and the worlds Above and Below.

@demon-fetal-harvest, for being one of the first to die over my Scully Les Miserables amv (it's one of my favorites I love to rewatch; and I think of you every time I do); and for your hilarious reblogs and even more hilarious tags.

@xxsksxxx and @two-microscopes for being the first to reblog and like during a rough time. I'll cherish that moment forever~.

@medicaldoctordana, for being cool and creative and driven; and for hating the mainstream MBTI system as much as I do (and for your philosophy recs-- will get around to them someday.)

@ibringyouasong89, for being my fellow warrior in the trenches. We're new of acquaintance, but I think this will be a beauuuuuuuuuutiful friendship~. ;))))

@writingwell, @enigmaticdrblockhead, and @perpetually-weirdening, @spidey-is-tired, @cyb3rpeach, @scullys-scalpel, @frogsmulder, @teenie-xf, @dreamingofscully, @freckleslikestars, @cecilysass, @slippinmickeys, @gabby-msr, @thatfragilecapricorn30, @television-overload, @pianogirlxf @mollybecameanengineer, and @settle-down-frohike for being mutually supportive and welcoming. The world is both large and small; and I'm glad my path was able to intersect with yours.

And thank you to the silent-but-always-theres who take the time to drop in and give my posts the time of day~: @samucabd, @sonictacocat, @kiivitaja, @freckleslikestars, @nimlurks, @redteekal, @mindibindi, @marinas5099, @chavisory, @sizzlingempathspybat, @enigmaticxbee, @inflappible, @metamayou, @invidiosa, @txcb1013, @dytttt, @borogirl, @agentbluefox, @agentwhalesong, and ALL OF YOU. I can't tag anymore because Tumblr is tapping me out; but I include you-- yes, you-- in this as well.

My Projects

While The X-Files turned 30, my fandom experience turned (a little over) a year old! Wow, time does fly when you're... speed typing out multiple essays worth of fic rec lists, meta analyses, and personality typing posts (or even wrangling a video editor, compressor, and uncooperative Tumblr site to upload an amv.)

My full list of accomplishments can be found here; but these are a few highlights that were standouts to me personally:

My First Fic

randomfoggytiger’s Son of Egypt (Prince of Egypt twist on television-overload's what if: Samantha adopted and raised William.)

Fic Rec Lists

Meet the Mulders

Creepy and Cozy Cabins  

Time Travel, Time Loops, and Just Wrong Timing 

Car Wrekt 

S9 Mulder Stays or Returns While the Mytharc Barrels On

Fics That Deserve More Comments (Part I) 

Poll Results Fic: 1st Place- Scully Injured but In-Charge

Poll Results Fic: 2nd Place- Cleaning Out the Vineyard House

Poll Results Fic: 3rd Place-- Tithonus Mother Hen Mulder

The Field Where I Fix-It Fic-ed

Analysis Posts

Arcadia Analysis: Scully Was Enjoying Herself Immensely 

Never Again: An Intensive Essay (and its paired twin: Never Again and Fear)

One Son: An Intense, One-Shot Analysis of “You’re Making This Personal”  

The Mulder Family In-Depth (Part VI): Talitha Cumi and Tena's Lies

S5 Is a Pretty Dark Time for Mulder

The Scully Family In-Depth (Part VII): Mulder, Maggie, Melissa, and the Snake

Mulder Trauma Responses: Fight, Flight, Freeze, or Fawn? 

Scully Trauma Responses: Fight, Flight, Freeze, or Fawn?

Mulder and Dreams

Milagro In-Depth (Part II): Loneliness Is a Choice and Lamps Go Dark

How the Ghosts Stole Christmas In-Depth: Full Analysis

Scully Is the Conduit Conductor and Mulder Is the Dancer

How Scully Taught Mulder to Hug

Mulder and Dreams

CSM Inflicted Insanity On the Syndicate

Fire and False Romance, Ice and Love

All IVF Roads Lead Away from The Unnatural and to Millennium 

Jungian Personality Typing Posts

{{Extraction: Proving Mulder Is an INTP, Not an INFJ/INFP}} 

SCULLY, The Enigmatic ISTJ

XF Fanvids/AMVs

Les Miserables AMV: Scully's Solo

The Muppets AMV: Drivin’ Right Along

Fiddler on the Roof AMV: Mulder and Samantha

Bonus Content (Fandom Adjacent)--

React: "Return to Me" from the POV of Someone Averse to RomComs

Personality Typing: Return to Me

HAPPY 30TH ANNIVERSARY, XF!

And cheers to all~!

Enjoy!

[violetasteracademic]

You’re such a good writer. Have you ever thought of writing a book?

Oh my goodness 🥹 thank you darling anon!!

I've actually written three! Though I have not felt any were ready to undergo the query process. And this year my poetry was published for the first time in a literary magazine, which was absolutely surreal. The few times I've mentioned this info here typically people ask if they can see it or if I could share, and I would soooo love to but this fandom is frankly too scary with doxxing and harassing for me to feel comfortable opening up that part of myself here.

I do think in the fic world especially it can be kind of charming and whimsical to just seem like this incredible writer who doesn't even try, but that is not me 😅 where I am at is the result of a decades long dedication to daily writing practices, multiple novel attempts, and improving my craft through books on structure and taking local workshops without access to higher education for it.

It can be scary to reveal how hard you work in creative spaces- because then what if you don't seem as impressive as you should? But writers have really a bad rap for pretending they don't try at all and everything just *happens* which leads to a lot of insecurity and frustration for new writers who are easily discouraged. So I always want to be really transparent about my journey.

Not that anyone asked but I would like to again take this time to encourage any aspiring writers, fic or otherwise, to just *start* writing anything at all! Putting words together in a meaningful way is a discipline. Even if you are naturally talented, that will fizzle out without practice. So write, write, write, and start today, not when you have an idea for a story. Writing begets writing. Go outside and write about the sky at different intervals throughout the day and you might suddenly walk away with the idea for your first novel!

Anywho, this was very kind. Fic is especially vulnerable because even with a solid amount of practice and discipline, it is essentially just a first draft and lacks a lot of the polish a published book would undergo. So it really means a lot to know you enjoy! When people say a published novel "reads like a fic" I know what they mean 😅 without editors, developers, arc readers, ect, I struggle with a lot of fears and insecurity too. But you guys have been amazing to write for. I felt so supported and encouraged from day one even being brand new to the scene, and it fills my heart with such joy to be a part of this fic community!

Fic writing has been really helping me through a deeply unstable time in my life and I'm so happy to have discovered it. Once I get a little more settled and stable, I'll focus back on original work!

[pinkomcranger]

Previous anon, thank you so much for your voice about Saga and her space in the fandom. Your reply was amazing. I honestly can't even add to it, you said so much and hit it right on the head in every regard. I think you made a valid point too, there are fans who don't create but want to see her represented in the fandom space too. I didn't think of it like that. I'll focus on that and for the future share Saga and Andercase content not just because of that but love em so much too. I say this as someone who loves all the chararcters and multiple ships outside of her but I treasure her and the ship so much so makes little sense not to show that. My stuff isn't quality but still can share lol I should back up my words and show it with content. Also, thank you for inviting me to talk in your inbox about anything with Saga/Andercase. I'll be sure to when ideas strike and hope it can encourage others too! Would love to see the fan base show her love like every other chararcter gets. Not completely unrelated but would love if people cared about Mr. Door too. There was a ship fic with him and Alan but it's lost now and like Saga he's often on the back burner despite how interesting he is too (insanely interesting tbh). Besides, I'm sure the actors and would be just as appreciative as thr others have been to already loved chararcters.

You're very welcome! I still have many thoughts regarding Saga and her place in fandom, I might create a part 2 at some point. When I finally entered this fandom, I fully thought there would be so much dedicated to Saga, because here we had such a beautifully written and portrayed character, that it felt like a no-brainer. To see that wasn't true, to see her glossed over for characters like Casey and Zane bothered me on every level.

It's one of the reasons I came out of my near-decade hiatus, if I didn't see what I wanted, and I could create at least a little, then I was going to do that. I was extremely hesitant, mostly because I was late to the game (hah, Saga would like that pun), I didn't dip my toes in until last December. I wanted the fandom to see that Saga was still appreciated, she was still seen, it wasn't just Casey/Alan/Zane.

To see you're willing to throw your hat back in the ring pleases me beyond words, but I'll try to find them regardless. First and foremost, please don't think whatever you create is less than when that couldn't be further from the truth. I know a lot of us content creators tend to hold ourselves up to others, if we don't get as many likes/reblogs/kudos/comments as other's ships or favored characters, that MUST mean we're not good enough, right? It's hard to believe, and something I still struggle with, but it's not true.

There's various reasons why it seems our content might seem to be skipped over. Maybe the idea doesn't hit right for some people, maybe they can't connect, maybe they don't relate, or maybe it's just not their fav character/ship. That's certainly their right as fans.

Secondly, at the end of the day, sometimes you just have to create what you want to see. It can be annoying, to wonder why you have to create something that should be so obvious to everyone else. But that's the thing about fandom, sometimes you just have to show you're here to stay.

I guarantee you there will be others who love your content, even if you don't think it's that great. I had to be reminded of that myself, by two great friends and basically pioneers of writing for Saga and Andercase (@wondrouswendy and @hearts-are-connected ). I know they're some of the great ones, and they'll always cheer me on, and I know they'll extend the same courtesy to you.

Man, Warlin Door is a whole different topic for me! He's EXTREMELY interesting, well-written, and portrayed. To see him ignored even more than Saga sucks, another character I thought would get love. I would love for the actors to see that they're seen and heard as much as Ilkka and Sam are. They deserve nothing less.

I very much look forward to seeing your content! You have a very eager fan here.

[maaarshieee]

im just gonna dump this here :'D

y/n, a renowned fighter of liyue and a secret agent of ningguang who is going undercover as a millelith (who was a part of the osial fight), was tasked to make the fatui harbinger, childe, leave without making it seem forceful. the fatui in liyue means that peace would never be with them. they awakened osial, therefore they had to make the harbinger leave without diplomatic issues. they had to do it in every single way possible without mistakes.

and what's the most effective way to win the harbinger's heart? it's to acknowledge him with kindness and pure and gentle heart. treating him in a nice way, greeting him and gifting him trinkets or handmade gifts.

y/n's plan is to act like his friend, someone he could trust. someone he could love. someone to build his future with. and after he falls for that, they push him away. curse him and tell him to never come back to liyue. blame him for everything. tell him that he's scary, that they will never trust someone like him. that he doesn't deserve anything.

except there's one clear flaw in their plan. they never anticipated that what if, they were the ones to fall in love with the harbinger? what if they get too attached to him to even break his heart?

of course, this completely tore apart y/n. not knowing what to do. break him and save liyue or be free and let liyue be. both have different consequences. and what did y/n do? they chose what their heart says.

- weekly anon

i know this is very similar with the scara one but but but but

⎯⎯ ୨ 𝐔𝐧𝐢𝐧𝐭𝐞𝐧𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧𝐚𝐥 ୧ ⎯⎯

➢ Cʜɪʟᴅᴇ x Gɴ!Rᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➢ 4.4k ᴡᴏʀᴅs ┊ Hᴇᴀᴠʏ ᴀɴɢsᴛ

➢ Mᴀsᴛᴇʀʟɪsᴛ

a/n - GOD WEEKLY ANON WHY. YOUR REQUESTS ARE SO GOOD BUT HONESLY ME AND MY BOO (who helps me story board) ARE AT A LOSS BC THE CONFLICT IS TOO GOOD. also weekly anon blame @iyagato for making me go through with this idea. not me writing your request again, I SWEAR I DONT HAVE ANON FAVORITES, this is actually punishment! /j. I'm not good at angst but i hope i delivered it nicely. OH YEAH THANKS FOR 700 FOLLOWRS! HOPE YOU LIKE THIS AS A GIFT >:))) titled "unintentional", have a nice day/night! also theme song? veil by keida suda

↬ cw: canon typical violence, major character death (guess who?), sword wielder & pyro user reader, reader just... experiences really sad shit so uh, tw, kinda some sexual innuendo at one part but you can read it both ways, blood, gore

The mission was simple enough, wasn't it?

Gain his trust. Shed him off his walls and deceive him when he least expects it. To allow himself to be vulnerable to you, to see you as a reliable comrade. To pretend to be someone he could love, to hold in his arms, to share his troubles with, to talk to about whatever comes to his mind, to be with someone he thought he could have a future with.

Truly, it was simple enough.

Lady Ningguang has entrusted this task to you, for you are capable enough to complete any mission the Lady has ever assigned to you. Be it 'cleansing' Liyue Harbor of 'filth', or simply gaining needed information, her beck and call. You were even graced by Lady Ningguang's access inside the Jade Chamber, which she's only ever allowed to her 3 secretaries and people she deeply trusts.

You swore loyalty under her command, for she never ceased to amaze you. From her glorious beauty, her dedication to her work, and her never-ending kindness to the inhabitants of Liyue, especially toward children.

"I have confidence that if this task were given to someone, rest assured you, out of everyone, can complete it." She says with a smile whilst you stood before her, hands behind your back with a bowed head, taking her words with immense gratitude. "The longer he, a Fatui Harbinger, stays in Liyue Harbor, peace will never be upon us."

You wholeheartedly believed in your Lady's words, nodding along as she continued to speak. She pushed a small unsuspecting folder toward you and allowed you to take it from her. Upon opening the folder, your eyes immediately scanned all the information in the papers.

"That folder is important. It contains his name, age, occupation, locations, favorites, and many more. Use it all to your advantage." Nodding once again, you held onto the folder tightly, giving your Lady a deep, respectful bow. Her last words to you ever since that day rang in your ears, engraving themselves into your brain because Archons forbid you to forget; "Don't fail me."

With pride, you took upon this mission in a stride, completely overestimating yourself. You may be a renowned warrior of Liyue, Lady Ningguang's trusted agent known for your prowess in battle and your seemingly endless adherence to your job, but there was something you never took into consideration.

That you were simply human.

Getting along with the Fatui Harbinger was a rather easy feat. He was friendly when you first approached in a guise; a part of the Millelith. From the information the papers inside the folder Lady Ningguang lent you, he loved battling against strong foes. So much so, he gains thrill even if he was injured. So how did you first greet the 11th member of the Fatui Harbingers?

Into a spar of course.

Soldiers would often say that archers were the weakest among the different sorts of fighters. That they cower behind in the backlines and only have knowledge for support. That they rely on long-range attacks merely because they freeze at the first sign of danger up close. You knew better of course. Archers are incredibly powerful on a battlefield. One skilled archer is enough to turn the tides of war; like death itself. You never know when an arrow would pierce through your chest or your forehead.

True fighters would know to never underestimate an enemy.

And you were proven right when you first battled Childe. You've never fought against an archer one-on-one but he fought vigorously against you, a sword wielder. His moves were fluid, flowing like water, an endless stream of aggressive and deadly strikes, similar to the Vision he has. It crashes upon you like tidal waves of stormy nights that shakes sailing ships until they flip and sink. With each strike he landed, the more you admired the strong fighter in front of you.

Childe fought differently than the other archers you've met. It was as if he merged the gracefulness of an archer with the violent characteristics similar to a berserker. He wore an exhilarated smile on his in the whole duration of your fight, you even heard him laugh when you catch him off guard.

He didn't underestimate you either, despite coming off quite arrogantly with each blow he dealt to you. It was a simple approach, yet you couldn't bring yourself to lose against him. How a person fought was enough to discern one's personality, in Childe's opinion, and he always finds himself breathless when you adjust the grip on your sword, baiting him and swinging in a direction he didn't expect, almost resulting in his loss.

You were cunning, a fighter who uses their boundless knowledge in the art of swordsmanship to the fullest. Dirty tricks? You've used them with a smug smirk on your face. Impenetrable defense? Powerful offense? You had it all, and it caught his full attention.

His water would extinguish the flames of your blade, but as quickly as they dispersed, they would flare back up like the burning determination in your eyes. He found himself truly captivated by the mesmerizing flames that licked and singed his skin.

In the end, you won. Nevertheless, seconds passed after Childe's defeat, you fell to the ground along with him, catching your breath and swallowing down the pain that was slowing growing in intensity the more the adrenaline that ran through your veins slowly faded.

Childe was admittedly impressed. The Millelith hadn't given him an impression by their rather lacking strength, but you? You must be one of the higher ranks! He learned a lot just by fighting you and felt awestruck by how remarkable a fighter you were. Unlike any battles he had recently fought, you displayed true sportsmanship with it comes to duels, commending his skills as an archer. When he told you that he uses the bow simply because he was less adept with it, you expressed genuine shock.

"Really? Most archers aren't capable of fighting well as you are against sword wielders on one-on-ones, and you're saying you're weakest with a bow?" You gave him a toothy grin, eyes wide and filled with wonder whilst the both of you walked towards Liuli Pavilion. Since Childe lost the spar you had moments ago, he had invited you for a dinner together, offering to pay for the expenses.

You accepted his offer with a fake smile (was it really?) on your face after you've shaken hands, putting away each other's weapons. "Mhm, believe it or not! You're quite a strong opponent, where did you learn how to wield your sword like that?" He queried, his gaze stuck on the person who defeated him.

You suppose you had nothing to hide, crossing your arms with pride as you said; "Well, my father was quite famous in Liyue, as I, for being an outstanding swordsman. He taught me everything I needed to know." With a nod, eyes meeting his azure ones. His fingers rubbed his chin, invested with your words.

Then, he nudged you with his elbow, a wide smile stretching his lips. "Care to share some of that knowledge?" He asks, wearing a hopeful expression.

You merely scoffed, raising a brow at the taller male beside you. "And why should I?"

Without missing a beat, he shot a smirk your way, crossing his arms as he narrowed his eyes. "So I can surely beat you in our next duel."

Breaking into fits of (genuine) laughter at his cocky attitude, you shook your head. "Oh? Then that gives me more reason not to tell you then." You remarked. But he only tutted at you, hair flowing prettily against the winds, "Awww, scared that I'll find your weakness? That an archer like me can beat your ass to the ground?" He said teasingly, the corners of his eyes crinkling in amusement.

For the first time in a while, you felt your heart race in anticipation. Though, back then, you had mistaken it as the fleeting sensation of victory beating in your heart. You had thought he had fallen into your trap when, unknowingly, you had fallen as well.

"Alright," You'd huff, "Bring it on."

It has been... months since you've seen the last of Lady Ningguang. Usually, you'd report to her Lady every few days, updating her about the progress of your mission.

Lately, though, a sense of dread would creep up toward your heart whenever you thought of visiting the Jade Chamber. Oddly enough, you felt eyes following you with every step you take, and because of that, you've grown incredibly weary and paranoid.

But you have a guess on what makes your heart waver when it comes to Lady Ningguang and your duties.

Childe.

Even the mere mention of his name makes you grit your teeth. For the past few months, the more this mission of yours went on, the more you grew to hate him.

You absolutely abhor him.

He made your seemingly effortless task drag on longer than you'd like. And despite being aware that gaining a person's trust was not like a leisure walk through Liyue Harbor, you hated every passing second you spent with him.

Childe was annoying, arrogant and you can't stand him. He would nag you for a spar so much that you'd have to hide across Liyue to avoid him, often asking a kind gentleman working in Wangsheng Funeral Parlor, named Zhongli, to distract the bothersome ginger who refused to leave you alone for some reason.

Asking him why he wants to stick around you so much was utterly fruitless, for he would blatantly lie to your face (just as much as you lie to him). "I want to score higher than you in our spars!", "Why can't I? Aren't we comrades?", "Getting tired of me already? Too bad!", and so on.

The moment he opens his mouth, you want to bury yourself in the ground, never to listen to his senseless blabbering. You hated so many things about him that you can list them.

You hate the cocky smile he'd always have when he walks up to you, asking you for a spar, his voice that would always get on your nerves, his bright, blue eyes that always seem to spark back to life whenever he looks at you, the way he always perks up when he hears you approaching because it's totally normal for people to memorize the sounds of another's footsteps, the way he's always eager to treat you dinner—

The way he makes your heart skips a beat whenever he laughs, the way he touches you oh so gently even though you're the one who kept beating him in fights, the way the tone of his voice changes whenever he speaks to you or says your name—

The way he makes your cheeks burn hotter than when you use your pyro vision whenever he shamelessly flirts with you 'as a joke', the way he makes butterflies flutter in your stomach whenever he sends you the most loving smile you've ever seen in your life, the way he never fails to make you feel so special because, for some reason, he's always so drawn to you, like a moth to a flame.

You hated Childe, and you had so many reasons for it, including making you fall for him. Hard.

At the moment, you were hiding from Childe again, watching Zhongli lead him away from where you hid. He had a pout on his lips, arms crossed as he clearly looked upset. You were a master at hide and seek, and he had never caught you once amidst your foolish games.

Once they were both out of sight, you leaned back against the tree you were on, the smile you once wore simply because you saw Childe acting so foolishly when it comes to you quickly morphed into a frown as you looked up into the skies, eyeing the Jade Chamber that infinitely hovered in the skies, casting a shadow all over Liyue. A place you once wanted to be part of, now a sight for sore eyes.

You wondered if Lady Ningguang knew. Of your inner turmoil, of your struggles, of your evident betrayal to your Lady, to Liyue. Thinking about it made your chest hurt, your hand clutching your chest. A younger version of you would surely be disgusted at your pathetic state. You? Who vowed to serve Lady Ningguang until your last breath? Whose resolve began to waver simply because of a man who's supposed to be your enemy?

A bitter laugh escaped your lips. How cruel. You once thought that this mission was the easiest one you've ever gotten. But it just grew harder when Childe ultimately asked you to be his lover.

And that was it.

A rejection followed by a fearful look, words that you knew would crush his heart and fake tears would be enough to wrap up your mission. To restore the faith Lady Ningguang had instilled in you, to make up for your traitorous mind...

But the way he caressed your cheek so tenderly, features softening at the mere sight of you, eyes both wary and filled with hope— Archons, you just couldn't. Not when you've dug your own grave, not when your heart beats for him.

On the day of his confession, he mistook your tears for joy. Instead, your tears were laced with unfathomable pain from the conflict that tore your heart. To serve Lady Ningguang and abide by your mission, or to betray your whole nation for the man who stole your heart?

The moment you realized you had fallen in love with Childe, a Fatui Harbinger, you willed yourself to avoid him at all costs. And when he sought you out, only to confess? You were devastated that he had fallen too. Fallen to the trap that fate had led you into, a trap both of you blindly waltzed in.

Once in a relationship, you prayed that he wouldn't notice. How your hands would tremble when he nears you, how your bottom lip would quiver when his were inches away, how your eyes grew teary when you feel his hot breath against your skin. It all felt so surreal, so addicting, you wanted more of him, to love him with all your heart, but indulging him made you feel sick.

Touching him felt like a sin, both to him and the country to which you once devoted yourself. His skin against yours burned you, accidentally flinching whenever he reaches for you, and your heart felt like it was being stabbed repeatedly.

You were so desperate for him, yearning for him, yet your heart ached when he utters those sweet words in your ears.

"I love you."

Archons, what have you done?

The words you spoke felt like shattered glass rolling off your tongue. Who knew simply talking would hurt so much?

But the weight was lifted off your chest once you finished speaking, a strong pair of arms wrapped around your trembling body, reassuring, but shaky words being whispered to your ear. You clung to him, hands gripping the back of his shirt.

To say that he was shocked was an understatement. He has his suspicions toward you (and ignored them), but he never would've thought the burdens you carried were to that extent. Childe understood now though. Why you acted so strangely despite accepting his confession. You truly did love him, but the guilt in your heart ate you from the inside.

He understood how you felt, so he held you in his arms tightly, refusing to let go of you until you tell him so. To quell the pain in your heart little by little, to kiss you whilst you shed tears, to touch you as if you were bound to fall apart as you unraveled yourself completely bare only for him to see.

And when you agreed to his suggestion, his heart rejoiced.

"Join me. Let's leave Liyue."

But things never go the way they should.

Lady Ningguang knew. Of course, she did. She knew of your plans of departure from Liyue, and she wouldn't stand idle anymore for a traitor like you.

It happened all too fast. One moment you were on patrolling as a faux Millelith soldier, and the next thing you knew, you were being chased by your peers all across Liyue Harbor.

They were at every corner you turned to, surrounding you and cornering you. You can't escape anymore, you were trapped. It was then that realization struck you; she had finally made her move.

You will regret this later on, but you summoned your sword and pointing it threateningly at the multiple soldiers that blocked your path. You were to join the Fatui soon enough, so there won't be any harm in starting now, right?

But before you could even swing your sword, you heard his voice, calling your name and clearing a path toward him. Your breath got caught in your throat as you almost cried in relief, turning to run to him, to finally leave Liyue once and for all. His arrival saved you from lifelong regrets of spilling blood.

But—

Childe's eyes widened, arm outstretching towards you as he shouted your name once more. But he was too far. Too late. You ran as fast as you could, but you never reached him. The world around him grew dark as the once peaceful, beautiful nights at the harbor grew distant and hot. It suffocated him, to watch you fall to the ground, the brilliant scarlet colors painted the road, reflecting disgustingly gorgeously against the moonlight.

"Ajax—" You choked out, more of the pretty hues of red splattering out your mouth as the sight of a spear piercing your chest—

Childe was skeptical of you at first. Who would just randomly go up to a stranger and ask them for a spar? He was glad he accepted it though, despite his doubts, because you proved to be a suitable sparring partner from then and so forth.

You fought like a true warrior. You reminded him of fire that blazed continuously no matter complication. A flame that refused to go out, a fire that with even the slightest spark, would burst into flames with dangerous heat. You refused to back down, even if he was a Hydro user, you ignited your flames once again, forcing your sword to burn him to ashes.

And you almost did, and it made his heart tumble inside his ribcage. His smile was difficult to contain, not when he's never felt such excitement in ages! You were different, you stood out among the foes he's fought before. You were unique and he needed to know what made you so special.

You gifted him the knowledge passed down by your father to you. Although he never understood why you would do such a thing to him back then when he was merely just of your acquaintance, you brought him into a whole new world when comprehending the art of weaponry.

"My father focused a lot on training the eyes." You'd state, holding a wooden sword for training purposes while Childe sat on the ground, crossed-legged, listening to every word. "The eye is an essential part of our art. If you trained hard enough, you can peer into someone's soul, quickly make a rough estimate of one's muscle structure, and pinpoint their weaknesses."

Childe, like the child he is, raised his arm as if he was a student wanting to inquire about his teacher. You loudly huffed at his behavior but never told him off. "Yes?" You arched a brow at him, a hand on your hip.

"Is that really possible or just an exaggeration?" He asked, and you were surprised it wasn't in a mocking manner. With a smile and a hum, you nodded proudly, gripping your sword, and got into an offensive stance.

"Hah! An exaggeration?" You snickered, "I only speak of the truth, my dear student. With it, you can anticipate your opponent's next move." Childe blinked, doubtful of what they just said, but nodded nevertheless, waiting for a clearer explanation.

"We sharpen our sights until it's comparable to a hawk's vision. We can see how a hand would clench the weapon it holds, the way the joints would move, the way a body's trajectory would shift, and much more." You recited as if you'd said this hundreds of times before. "We observe each movement, be it big or small."

He let out a sound of awe, eyes wide as he stared up at you, obviously impressed. "And you're teaching me such arts? Something passed down your family?" He asks, growing unsure as a small frown tugged the corners of his lips.

But his heart merely thrummed hard against his chest when you turned to him with a smile adorning your features, an unreadable emotion lingering in your eyes, but still shining brightly against the warm sun. Perhaps if he had this ability, then he would've known what you felt that day.

"For some reason, I trust that you would honor my family's way of the blade more than anyone in Liyue." You sighed, your gaze shifting away from him as you let a stray butterfly perch on your finger, the wind making your clothes flutter. "Of all the people I've fought, you bear what it really takes to be a warrior, despite the lust for battle hidden deep inside." Childe felt himself stiffen when you mentioned a part of him he hasn't shared with you just yet, but you simply giggled at his reaction, winking.

"It's what I've gathered by watching you how to fight."

And he let himself relax at that. After all, Childe was a firm believer of those words; How a person fought was enough to discern one's personality.

"But you did give it away rather obviously." You teased, only for Childe to frown once more, confused. "You laughed on the verge of losing."

His cheeks grew warm at that, a sheepish smile stretching his lips as rubbed the back of his neck, embarrassed. "Did I?" He chuckled, looking down at his lap, a sullen expression overtaking his features despite the laughter he forced. He knew at that moment that you'd think he was a weirdo. A creep who gets thrilled in bloodshed battles.

Though, you never cease to surprise him. Stepping in front of him, your shadow loomed over his figure and he raised his head to look up at you, expecting a look of disgust or mockery on your face, but it was just the same gentle face you always wore. Offering him a hand, he accepted it, and let himself be pulled upwards by you.

"I see no fault in it, Childe." You reassure, patting his back as you gave him a wooden sword to finally begin training. "Somethings are out of our control, so lend myself to you."

Childe sputtered, once again, surprised by your words and taking a step back, but you just chuckled at his reaction. "I'll spar with you if it helps quell this insatiable desire. Well, if that's what you'd like."

Speechless, he stood there dumbly, stuck in thought. A permanent sparring partner? Just to help suppress the consuming feeling to seek chaos and destruction? Torn, he couldn't help but crease his brows as he tried to make out any lies. But no, he couldn't see any. Your eyes only held sincerity, a patient smile carved on your lips.

Why are being so kind to him? Why, from then on, you decided to allow him to be your friend? Why did you crawl through the cracks of the faulty walls of his heart and made yourself a place inside it without his volition?

How cruel you were to invade his mind on a daily basis.

Your laughter reminded him of the sounds of chiming bells that hung outside of the homes in Liyue, harmonizing with the gentle breeze of the wind. Your smile held a warmth that he never knew he could once again feel in his heart. Your kindness, concern, gentleness— it made him weak in the knees.

You sparked life back into his dead, soulless eyes.

And you quickly snuffed them out once more, as if it was never there in the first place.

Like everything else that exists, your artistry of weaponry had a fatal flaw, and he could remember those words clearly.

"Our backside is one of the most vulnerable spots to users wielding this art. If an opponent was too quick for our eyes to reach them and attacks us from behind? We're good as dead if we don't improvise."

Maybe that's why you couldn't see the spear aimed at your back, piercing through your chest, right at your heart.

Childe grew to love the rains in Liyue, mostly because you loved them. You'd stomp onto puddles, running through the rain as you let the drops of water completely soak you entirely. You'd take his hands in yours, and dance with him under the rain. But no matter how dark the clouds were, you'd brighten up his surroundings, all it took was your loveable smile.

Though now, the intensity of the rain was not enough to clean the stain of your blood off his hands.

In the middle of the sea of bodies and diluting blood, Childe had your limp body in his hands. He couldn't save you. He wasn't fast enough, wasn't strong enough. Even with knowledge of your art, he couldn't have anticipated this.

In his veins, he only felt anger and despair, his heart torn to pieces as the one good thing in his life was stripped away from his hands once more. There were so many things he still wanted to tell you, to show you the beauty of Teyvat, to introduce you to his family—

But you were gone. The Vision that hung on your waist, dull and gray, the vibrant reddish-orange glow it once illuminated, gone, similar to your eyes that once held so much life. The fire that burned fervently has been completely extinguished. You have never felt so cold in his arms.

Was this your punishment for loving him? Was this her doing?

In the rain, he let himself break, burning hatred engulfing his heart as he glared at the Jade Chamber that proudly hovered amongst the stars.

There was one thing in his mind as he continued to grieve; the Jade Chamber will be no more.

If you want to be tagged in future works, fill out this form to be added to my taglist! Remember that usernames are only lowercase and have no spaces!

Taglist: @anniejourn, @dilucssiliconedildo, @achlysyo, @sunoo-bby, @iyagato, @randomidk-123, @kujobug, @louise-rosita-leroux

- ̥۪͙۪˚┊❛❛ If you like this a lot, consider reblogging! I'll appreciate it very very much! Don't repost and/or translate my work anywhere. ❜❜ ┊˚ ̥۪͙۪◌

[wot-tidbits]

hello!! I just want to ask what to keep your motivation for so long?

Hello, anon! The short answer is myself. But you got me in a mood so there is some TLDR if you are interested.

Every time I repeat the same story for creation of this blog. When I had the idea for my blog ages ago, I expected little attention for my niche and I told to myself that numbers don’t matter, but only the joy of the experience and the journey to do what I love – sharing the Wheel of Time madness. I thought that 100 followers would be a nice goal after some long time. The motivation was myself, not the imaginary attention of strangers.

And here we are 10 and a half years later. Maybe it would be cool to say that my followers, a community or whatever, is my motivation. In the end of the day it is still me and myself. In the end of the day the question is if I was random visitor what I would love to search for in a WOT blog. This question has motivated me through the years. That one imaginary person. If there is one person who have been hooked to check the blog regularly for the newest art, memes and community posts, then everything was worth it and will worth it to continue. I am not good at creating content, but my stubborn ass is good at searching for content.

Most probably my stubborn ass will finish the current Necromancy (Blast from the Past) project and then I will have two options to decide from. The first is to continue with the second part of bringing back WOT content from the dead which is gonna be less laborious and less time-consuming but still needs my insane dedication for a year ahead. Or finally I ditch my urge to check everything WOT and to slow significantly my pace with barely posting new stuff but to try to focus more on my meta analysis. I have my plans for writing my own silly thoughts based on the Wheel of Time but they were constantly pushed back in my mind. One thing can be for certain with my meta – it won’t fit the narrative that Tumblr loves to promote. But what is new – I have not been creating controversies for nothing in the last decade.

So in such future situation from one side people won’t care about my content and it will get less or negative attention. Most probably half the Tumblr (WoT community) doesn’t share good feelings to me as I am always stirring the pot with stuff that people don’t like to read. And from other side, yeah, people won’t care and this is the most liberating part actually. Didn’t I mention that the only motivation is myself? I can write what I want not fearing how others may react. Maybe there will be one person who will be interested and that will be enough. It is never about getting attention but about what I would love to loose my finite time on Earth for.

Sharing the love for WOT has never changed as my ultimate goal. And in doing the Necromancy project, it is very satisfying to watch how this ancient content (which is predominantly not mine!) gets new wave of appreciation and love. This happens only because I happen to be extremely stubborn and very patient in doing the tedious process every day. It is also funny when I see my name on blogs which have blocked me. This shows that the Wheel of Time is transcendental and can pass through everything and everyone. This is unity that I would like to see some day.

But nothing is decided yet. I have time to think what the future is and if it is time to finally close the door. 11 years every day is a lot of dedication so it is amazing that I am still enjoying it. And this is enough motivation for me.

Let the Light keep you safe. LightOne

[moonjxsung]

i just wanted to let you know im so sorry for what happened to you 😭😭

the fact that authors put so much hard work into their fics and use up their time and creativity and devote their ideas into these things but once they get published it can be stolen from literally anyone is actually quite scary..

ik that these kind of stories take up a lot of time (doesn't matter if it's just a drabble or a whole series, it still needs dedication and work to be made and published.) and it's so upsetting that some people think that stealing these works is just plain okay.

if you like somebody's work and want to support them, you can reblog among other things that does NOT consist of you posting it on a different platform without credit or permission. i think it just upsets me so much as a reader to see these kinds of things happen to several of my favorite authors, and i can only imagine how much stress the actual authors get..

also the fact that minors as young as 12-18 age range are viewing this is insane to me because what kind of things are you doing online or searching up to even be reaching this..?

the wattpad you shared with us is already reported by me and i really hope you feel better and im so sorry about what happened.. people can be so stupid sometimes 😞😞

-☘ anon <3

Thank you clover anon!! 🥹🩷🫶 I’m crying at this message you are so kind! I think the account has FINALLY been taken down and it’s all thanks to the lovely people on here who helped me report it. I truly could not have done it without you guys and I’m feeling alllll the love in the world, I am SO lucky to be able to interact with such amazing wholesome people who support me the way you guys do. Also AGREED about the minors bit! Wattpad allows their users to be as young as 16 which I can understand to some extent, but it seems like there’s no way to filter them out from all the smut on there which is often times stolen from ADULT writers. Like I’m 24 and I can assure you that not a single piece of my work is for a literal high schooler… thank you a million times once again and I’m sending you all my love 🥹🩷🫶 you guys keep me on here and keep me writing and I will never take this level of support for granted.

[myopicry]

Just popping in to say that I saw your post about the struggles of having healthy discussions about feminism on here (and other places) and just wanted to say that I relate!! (especially with the last ask I sent which you replied to with much eloquence as always)

But I think there's still some interesting discussions being had on different sides, and it's honestly amazing when we think about the mere concept of communities online, especially for things like feminism. I mean hell, I owe tumblr so much despite everything! I found your blog, for example :3

Don't despair!! Take breaks whenever you want to, hell you can disappear off the surface of this site if you'd like (tell me first tho >:!). History generally tends to lean towards progress, I believe. We will all be okay!

(sorry this was unprompted and unsolicited but I couldn't help but butt in lol)

Yours truly, 🪼

you are really too kind dear jellyfish anon lolol and the message is absolutely welcome, this is a great message and reminder!

I find myself somewhat oscillating from incredibly hopeful and cherishing the world to incredibly nihilistic about my own life and the progression of my generation, probably because despite my best efforts I still do not touch nearly enough grass to be mentally consistent, but you do make a great point and it's a good way to view the world !! I get pretty cynical about the internet sometimes, that might just be a side effect of being raised on it unfortunately. however, as you say, it is pretty dang incredible that we have this portal to a vast amount of knowledge, thought, and communication at our fingertips. it would be a shame to not explore it and take advantage of the unique kinds of interaction and community that it is possible to maintain online. and I suppose the more people who stay hopeful about this digital future, the more likely it is that it will be possible.

I never thought I'd get any kind of attention on this blog (well, I hoped I would get a little attention, that is what social media is for and it is a very human instinct to be noticed by our peers lmao) but I'm just happy that there's even a handful of people who get something out of my less hinged often-written-in-a-dark-room-at-ungodly-hours rambling. and of course, I'm always happy that there are so many people (anon included, of course!) who share their own thoughts and wonderful, thought provoking writing.

I've been thinking lately about how I often encounter male writers/bloggers/artists with opinions and writings and art that might go against the status quo, or wax philosophical about their own struggles and the state of society, and they get the glory of praise and large platforms and funding, while many of the most personally engrossing female thinkers I've found are hidden in secret blogs, forums, or web archives. it is quite sad too that men are afforded the luxury of being philosophers and great thinkers and are allowed to be flawed, complex, or controversial while still being respected in academia and public discourse, whereas women pushing new ideas or discourse are expected to placate and honor men and the status quo of femininity or else they're shunned and hidden in the public eye completely. but what I value is that with some dedication and the willingness to explore new ideas online, I can still find these women and find the interesting things they write and make, even if they're not pushed by some all-consuming algorithm or if they're forced to make their own spaces in the expansive online world. I'm glad that there's always a possibility to find something valuable amongst a sea of terrible things (because the internet is certainly quite full of terrible things). which, I guess this is also just how life works in general. a lot of terrible stuff, but the beauty of it is that some hope in finding the gold hidden in there is always possible.

aaaand that got weirdly philosophical at the end lmao. I guess I do just like to hear myself talk sometimes :p

to tl;dr though, lovely lovely ask I really appreciate the sentiment and the message, and I'm more than happy to get a little infusion of hope in my inbox! thank you so much for stopping by again as usual (and I look forward to seeing you again soon ヾ(＾∇＾) ) !!

[letmetellyouaboutmyfeels]

I usually don’t do this, but I’ve no idea how I’m supposed to reach out to you otherwise.

Let me start off by saying that you’re a very talented individual. You see, I was never really interested in Buddie, cause they weren’t canon on the show, but one day I stumbled upon a Buddie edit om tw and suddenly they didn’t seem so bad. Even though the edit was nice, but what truly peeked my interest and now love for Buddie were your AO3 works. It’s embarrassing how fast I’ve read your works over the past few days, I’m obsessed! You’re writing skill is fenominal, impeccable pacing and outstanding character descriptions. It’s always a pleasure to read your incredible work. It even motivated me to watch the show after all, which is to some degree a bit of a let down, compared to your Buddie storylines (wished you wrote the script of 911 😂). I’m truly thankful for all of your hard work and dedication! Thank you for writing these amazing stories for our entertainment.

Now to touch on the second point. Today, I went to AO3 (like the past few days) to find your works, but got no results. So I wondered, what happened?

Please don’t tell you’ve deleted your works! 😢

Oh my goodness anon, this is truly a very sweet message. I'm deeply flattered that you enjoy my works so much and that I could give you such entertainment and joy. It's why I write, and it makes me so grateful.

My works are not gone, and they are not deleted. I have, unfortunately, had to make them visible only to registered users.

There have been posts about it, but essentially it was confirmed that people are "scraping" (i.e. having a computer gather all the material on a site) Ao3 and using people's fanfics to train AI engines to write. This was suspected for a bit, but we now have confirmation. As a result, myself and many other writers have made our fics visible only to people who have an Ao3 account, so bots cannot get at it.

It makes me very sad to do this. I have many wonderful readers like yourself who do not have Ao3 accounts, or aren't always logged in, and now my works are inaccessible to them. I would recommend asking Ao3 for an invite, the wait is not very long right now, and many users on the posts I've mentioned have said they have invites to share if you contact them. Once you have an account, you can log in and read my fanfics and the fanfics of many others again.

None of us are happy about this situation, but we have to do what we can to protect our art, our hard work, that is being taken from us and we have no other way to stop it or fight back. No bot or AI program gets to take advantage of my 10+ years of hard work and dedication in developing my skill. And so unfortunately this is how it has to be until this issue with AI can be better resolved.

I am very sorry to have made you worry, and I apologize for what I'm sure is an inconvenience. Again, it deeply flatters me and fills me with gratitude to know how much you enjoy my work. I hope you're able to get an account and continue to enjoy people's work on Ao3 going forward.

Stay safe and treat yourself.

[veersnz]

hello my dear i am so late but i have just seen you reblogged this andddd if you'd still like to: 💛 🔐🍌🌝 and if u want~ ⭐️ boop (yes, there's a yellow theme <33 to match ur blog~)

Hellooo!! Don't worry better late than never haha (and also that gives me an opportunity to fill the 💛 asked by that poor anon whom I had completely forgotten, I'm so sorry buddy I promise I was just very busy 😭) How cute and thoughtful ✨ - 💛 what is your favorite feature on yourself? Not to sound like a narcissist, but I love a lot of stuff about myself xD (on good days at least lmao) I'd say my favorite is my hands, everyone compliments them at some point or another haha. They're very long and slender and even though I got shit for them (during the anon hate period for those who remember, they said they looked like a skeleton's hand xD) I still love them a lot~ it's just a struggle to find rings lmao - 🔐 something no one would guess about you That I'm bald !! Well maybe a few people know because of that picrew I posted a while ago but yeah I have no hair left lmao xD well I'm not completely hairless, I just probably have 1 cm left of hair (0,3 inches for our american friends~) I think it's absolutely not something people expect, especially when I'm wearing a cap or a beanie but I've been rocking that haircut for a year now almost and I still love it so much xD (this is the sign you're looking for if you wanna shave your head 😉) - 🍌 what is one talent you wish you had Play the piano ! Or any instrument honestly haha. I used to play the flute but I forgot how to and now I wish I could go back in time. I miss playing music. One day I'll definitely get back to it !!! - 🌝 a show you would recommend to anyone Oh god I have no idea cause I watch so much scary or weird stuff, most of the things I think about have trigger warning lists as long as my arm 💀 Perhaps a tamer one would be Love, Death and Robots ? It's a great show, lots of amazing episodes and while some episodes are a bit forgettable, some of them are mindblowing. Definitely worth a watch ! mention of eating disorder and mental health

- ⭐️ what is one of your biggest accomplishments? Why is it so important to you? Definitely overcoming my eating disorders. I struggled for a long time and after 8 years I'm finally free from this hell. It took a lot of work, dedication and sacrifices and I'm proud of myself for surviving and thriving today. It's important because someone close to me couldn't recover from it, to this day they're still suffering in the throes of an0rex1a like I used to be. We still call each other regularly and seeing me recover and have the life they could never have has made them feel a lot better. They will most likely never get better but at least they didn't see me fall victim to this horrible disease too. My recovery is bringing them the happiness they deserve. It's important for me and for them and in the end that's why this is my biggest accomplishment as it goes beyond my sole experience. I hope to one day share my story and help those beyond my circle of friends and family

Thank you so much Waterfall for all those asks 💖

[blog-of-a-multitude-of-fandoms]

Band- Robin Buckley (1)

Pairing: Robin Buckley x Reader

Characters: Robin Buckley

Warnings: N/A

Request: Anon- Hi, Can I please request an imagine for Robin (Stranger Things) x female reader where the reader is the lead singer of an all female punk band, and Robin goes to one of the band’s gigs with Steve, and Robin and the reader start a flirty friendship that turns into something more romantic and they share a kiss, please? Thank you so much!

Word Count: 590

Author: Charlotte

Y/B/N- Your band name

It felt like a dumb idea to start a band, but it was something to pass the time for you and your friends to do and lead to minor fame in the alternative scene throughout central Indiana. For the most part people were against your band along with anything remotely punk, but there was a niche circle of people that really enjoyed the concept of an all-female punk band. Your group made your way around the local towns, playing in any bars that would take you and the few dedicated fans that you had made it all worth it.

For that night you were in Hawkins, Indiana at The Hideout to play a short set and hope to grow your fanbase. The bar was almost busy, more people in it than the normal bars you played in and even if half of them were middle-aged drunk men, you were still going to play as though they gave a shit about your music. Your band took the stage, and you sang your heart out. By the end of the set, you felt the normal buzz of excitement that you got from performing in front of a crowd. Your friends agreed to grab a drink before heading home and you weren’t one to turn it down, even if you weren’t legally old enough to drink.

You tidied up your stage as the music returned to the records that the bar picked to play before heading down to the bar. As you tried to manoeuvre over to where your friends had set up base, you bumped into a woman.

When she turned around, you instantly felt flustered. Other than your band, she was probably the only woman there, roughly your own age and beautiful. Words escaped you as you looked over the woman you had accidentally bumped into. Her light brown hair just hit her shoulders where she wore a tattered old jacket, the lapels lined with pins that for the most part matched your own on your rucksack, all covering the current feminism movement and general nerdy or movie related topics.

“I’m so sorry,” you apologised. “I didn’t mean to.”

She let out an awkward laugh. “It-t’s okay.”

The man beside her rested a hand on her shoulder, looking at her concerned, rarely ever seeing her just start talking to others.

“You alright, Robin?” He asked.

She nodded her head, trying to subtly hit the man with her but it was far more obvious than she wanted.

“Fine… I’m fine,” she said firmly to him before turning back to you. “You’re the singer from Y/B/N?”

You nodded your head. “Yeah, what’d you think? We don’t get many couples at our shows.”

Robin forcefully laughed, looking between you and the man beside her, a snort escaping her.

“Steve and me,” she laughed, her words exploding from her. “We aren’t together, we’re just friends.”

A small smile curled onto your lips. “Sorry for assuming.”

She shrugged her shoulders. “It’s okay. But anyway… your show was amazing, you’re really talented.”

You had received compliments before but coming from Robin it seemed to warm your heart more than any you had received before.

“W-would you like to join us?” Robin said, an over-strained smile upon her face.

Your eyes darted over to your bandmates who were chatting and drinking, not even noticing that you weren’t there. You felt a little bad for abandoning them but when a pretty girl talks to you, you don’t just turn them down.

“I would love to.”

[onlyjaeyun]

https://www.tumblr.com/onlyjaeyun/744062285025361920/agreed-until-anon-said-if-a-writer-writes?source=share

hi, just adding my two cents with this ^^ anon bcus i do agree with them, for me i believe it's just weird to compare ppl who write for chubby girls/people in general bcus there is scarce content out there for them. accs dedicated to writing for chubby people or ppl who have an idea of a chubby reader in mind ALREADY get bashed with fatphobia simply bcus people can't fathom letting chubby ppl have content that's catered to chubby people, that issue is much broader than just fics online.

i understand your and the other anonie's POV zadie, but there's heavy nuance with the inclusivity talk in smaus or fics in general. i DO believe u should have the freedom to write what you want with no care for anyone else however so just remember that it's your story and you decide how it goes.

it's all love zadie baby, ur amazing <33

i absolutely agree with you baby and im trying to keep this lighthearted because ive spend most of my time on tunblr trying to create content for bigger people singe im a big girl myself and back when i was only writing full length fics it was much easier snd im determined to go back to that at one but rn i don't wanna take that responsibility because i know what it comes with and i appreciate you guys being so kind and sweet and understanding about this. sending everyone love 🩷

[impeccablebackside]

not bothering going on anon because who Else would be talking about this but the thought that's been keeping me going all day is the way it feels when you kinda get in a makeout mood, when it turns from simple kissing to an impulse that's impossible to ignore and you just ride this wave of emotion and sensation, kissing again and again, anywhere and everywhere,,, and obviously this is in reference to munkustrap, and how nice it is to feel his body against yours, the planes of muscle, his warm fur, and just getting lost in each other

the kind of horniness that scoots right past the need for actual sex and just gives you so much satisfaction from simply connecting is so so good, sometimes better than actually getting off

I definitely agree on that last paragraph.

The closeness, specifically the innate intimacy where two people can connect in such powerful way, seems like it would be the ultimate end-goal. Potentially more than any sort of sexual satisfaction. I would say that it simply means that when you do get off, the feeling would assuredly be even more euphoric. To know that you reach that point of pleasure from the existence of your partner, and knowing they mutually achieve the same ending is one of my favourite 'parts' of any form of sex (as fucking weird as that may sound). That is what the idea of love is to me. Anything can be rewarding one its own, but having someone 'accompany' you and elevate it to a place beyond what could be realistically possible individually is the point.

Knowing that you belong so wholeheartedly to the positive essence and energy of another, no matter the context, is part of what inspires my idea of romanticism. To be truly in love is to possess that level of interconnectedness where you are not whole without someone else. To bridge the physical contact between two people and become one, sharing in the warmth and embrace of another is superb. To conflate the emotions and desire of two people into a miasmic haze of love (and lust) is truly a premise of immense joy.

Anyway, after all of that, ugh yes the kissing is so good. I think kissing in general is underrated because it can become seen as something so simple and slightly unimportant. It is so normalized in a way, almost merely classed as the physical start of a relationship or encounter. To me, it holds more weight because of that. I am partial to kisses to the cheek and forehead as a way to show love, but ones at the angle of the jaw or those that travel down the neck would be ones of desire. The shiver that is elicited when the attention goes from love to lust is captivating.

It may not be overtly evident from this blog, but I am a fan of lowkey body worshiping and praise. The concept of kissing anywhere and everywhere is just perfect. Showing your partner each spot that you want to embrace and focus on, giving it a token of appreciation with a kiss, is so good. I know I would have a difficult time not getting too over enthusiastic with kissing someone's body all over and telling them just how beautiful they are in my eyes. Combine that with an oral fixation of sorts, and you would have me kissing lines down from mouths, over neck and chests, past abdomens, and all over someone's thighs before eating them out. Even kissing from the feet up / down legs until you reach their center would be amazing.

Taking aspects of body worship and care / intimacy, and then directing those to show just how much you love someone by giving them pleasure is such a lovely gift. What better way to show your dedication to someone than making them cum?

[lovesongrecs]

i just kiwwed myself. Fuck girl code sorry (no i'm not)

i know i was live texting you my reaction throughout the entire read but i quickly realized that it wasn't coherent in the slightest so!! formal review...? feedback here :3

i've been WAITINGGGG for a soobin fic debut on your blog since like literally forever and seeing this request end up being dedicated to me 💔💔 I cried. We Crode. i genuinely couldn't be happier because it just made reading a lot more special! also!!!!! to the anon who sent this request, THANK YOU SO MUCH? FOR SHARING SUCH AN AMAZING IDEA WITH SOL?? we were actually talking about it while she was in the process of writing it and i was actually so fascinated by this idea and at the same time, i don't think there's any writer who could've given this request as much justice other than sol 🤗💗 idc if we're friends now!! you're still my favorite writer forever and always

i'm really in love with this like, trope of being with someone you can't have... like ive seen so many fwb aus in particular where they're either best friends or there's unreciprocated feelings because one of them likes the other, but the other isn't interested— but this... This takes the cake for me because . AUGSHDJEJDJ!!! ‼️‼️⁉️💔‼️ THEY BOTH LIKE EACH OTHER 😭😭😭 BUT THEY CANT BE WITH EACJ OTHER!!! The having to set boundaries as to how you can be together, how long you can spend with someone you desperately want and when and where you can or can't see them... and only because one of you is still partially loyal to someone else. God i'm gonna rip my hair out

SO GLAD you decided to get rid of the 2k limit (fuck censorship!) because. I think this ended in a really good place where i dont have to get on my knees to cry and beg for scraps (pt 2....) and instead just delude myself into thinking soobin and mc can have their happily ever after 😔 i know you said in your mind they wouldn't and like realistically, yeah... mc probably wouldn't betray her friend like that... But fuck it i'm crazy.

song equation for the 2K event!!(congrats🙇)

daniel ceaser, do you like me?+ soobin+ smut= fwb!soobin but he’s your best friend’s ex who she’s still not over😵

♫: Daniel Ceasar, Do You Like Me? // [2K Masterlist]

“Parties aren’t that much fun to attend to anymore, especially when you’re only there to tend to your broken-hearted friend. But there’s always ways to entertain yourself, ways that rely on a certain someone you’re meant to despise.”

soobin x fem!reader // wc: 4.0K // fwb au, angst, college au but it’s not rlly important, smut, MDNI.

warnings: it’s a rlly messy situation, neither soobin or the mc are good people !! mentions of alcohol, dom!soobin, sub!mc, fingering, biting, orgasm control(?), dry humping, breast play, hair pulling, multiple orgasms, pet names (good girl, pretty thing, etc.), cum eating, overstimulation, slight handjob, protected sex (from me??? what.) soobin is big 🥱, slight manhandling? degrading, praise, aftercare, lmk if i forgot anything !

notes: soobin’s a lil sassy in this one idk guys… i dedicate this to a certain someone who challenged me by saying i neglect soobin (i do tbh.) so. this ones for you ‼️🤣 i’ve seriously been wanting to get my hands on this request from the moment i got it, i love this song sm thank you for sending this anon !! ur mind is insane!!!

This is wrong. It’s wrong, horrible, a break of every code that comes with a friendship— but it’s also sweet, enticing, thrilling, feeling as though the breath has been stolen from your lungs as Soobin presses you further against the wall, hands wandering down the hem of your dress and his small, breathy groans enough to drown out the rest of the noise from the party downstairs. 

You didn’t want to be here in the first place; your friend had been the one to drag you here, begging for your company and asking you to be the designated driver as she spent the night drinking and partying her sorrows away— attempting to pretend that she’s fine, that she’s healed, that her heart still isn’t broken by the man whose fingers are trailing up your inner thighs— and you had agreed, telling her that she was better off alone only to slip into some random bedroom with the man you said was definitely not worth her time. 

But he’s worth yours. You wanted him from the very moment you saw him, pining from afar and letting three years pass by as you watched him transform from a shy freshman to what he is now; alluring, addicting, intoxicating, your lips parting with ease and your body left at his mercy as you allow him to kiss, suck, and explore wherever he wants.

It wasn’t your fault you had feelings for him. But it was your fault that you let yourself push those said feelings to the side for your friend, resigned to longing glances and tense interactions whenever you two were alone— of course, it wasn’t long before he picked up on those feelings as well. 

“How long will you be staying tonight?” Soobin whispers teasingly into your ear, pouty lips latching onto the spot just under it; your curl slightly into him at the sensation, hands holding onto his shoulders and your back feeling the slight vibrations that comes from the bass of the music against the wall. But it’s all muffled to you, your hearing only attuned to Soobin’s words and voice, the deep lullaby that teases you for your weakness, “you watching over her this time too?”

“Fuck— yeah,” you admit, feeling a twist of guilt in your stomach, “I’m the designated driver.”

That guilt is immediately wiped out by a harsh pleasure; Soobin’s fingers are slow and lithe as they run up and down your slit, feeling the way your panties become soaked with your arousal; pads of his fingers slowing to press on your clit, your legs spread open by one of his own as he corners you in with ease, continuing to litter kisses along the column of your throat leisurely. 

“Such a shame you’re stuck babysitting her all the time,” he coos softly, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he’s pushing your panties to the side, feeling the way you shiver at his cold fingers running up and down your folds, collecting the arousal that gathers there before circling at your clit; rubbing in rhythmic circles at an agonizingly slow pace that he knows drives you crazy, holding back a coy smile at the way your brows twitch, hips stuttering toward him in need of more, “If not, I would’ve loved to take you back to my place and fuck you properly.”

His words are dangerous territory. You don’t go to his place, and he certainly doesn’t go to yours— it’s always been like this, secret hookups in convenient places you know you won’t get caught; a quickie in a random bedroom at a party, a sneaky handjob under the table of a library, a night where you let yourself destress in his car when you’re supposed to be on your way to hang out with a friend.

All of it has been quick, lustful, surface-level; nothing that would lead to cuddles under the safety of his sheets, or the smell of your shampoo after he decided to quickly shower at your place, or anything that could give you the slight semblance of domesticity— no possibility of seeing a future with him, of having anything that runs deeper than the touch of his skin on yours. 

Sometimes, you hate yourself for setting such boundaries. Sometimes, you wish you were self-destructive enough to push past the barrier that deemed you as friends with benefits (if you could even use the term “friends” with him) and go into something that was more than that, something that was more meaningful than the way you only allowed yourself to spent thirty minutes max with him alone, before you had to go check up on your best friend and make sure she hadn’t begun to drunkenly wish for Soobin to come back into her life. 

“You know, I only wanted you from the start,” he had told you once, the words dream-like and saccharine sweet as he confessed it quietly to you, your head too dazed from the feeling of him inside you to process it properly; burying the secret beneath harsh thrusts that left your mind blank, not expecting the confession to stick to you like glue regardless. And you had thought of every time Soobin would only leave parties at the same time you did, would be eager to tag along with your friend if you were there as well, all those moments your friend thought were for her the complete opposite.

And it shattered your heart. But it also made it soar, made your face heat up to know he’s had eyes on you all along, forced to back off once he thought you weren’t interested—- but you were, and you were simply holding back for the sake of your friend. 

“Not happening,” is all you can sigh into his mouth, allowing him to kiss you lazily, teeth sinking playfully into your lip before his tongue is darting out to soothe the pain; his fingers prod at your entrance teasingly, ring and middle finger entering slowly to feel you squeeze around him, only to pull out again. And he’s whining softly against your lips like wounded puppy, as though he wasn’t the one making you fall apart by letting his fingers sink slowly into you, curling slowly and pressing against your sweet spot as he kept a warm hand on your waist; dress bunched up under his palm, trying to keep you still as he begins to wind you up with ease. 

“Why not?” he asks, leaving your mouth and planting a soft kiss at the corner of your lip; on your jaw, trailing back until he’s gotten to the column of your neck, aiming for all the spots that make you as sensitive as the feeling of him slowly pumping his fingers into your cunt does, “I like you, you like me…”

His fingers are able to reach spots you could only dream of; spots that have you letting out choked whines and grabbing on his forearm desperately, hips attempting to buck and match his pace, only to be restrained by the bruising grip of his hand on you.

You’re trying to not pay attention to his ramblings— something you’ve found him doing a lot more often than you’d like, constantly being lured into temptations that should not be tasted— instead, you pay attention to the way his palm grinds against your clit and the growing sounds of your arousal as he thrusts his fingers into you, calculated and teasing as he slows down the moment you begin to get close.

“It works out, doesn’t it?” you’re tuning back into his words reluctantly, unable to whine for him to stop being such a tease as he continues, “Wouldn’t you just wanna… have one day where we’re not rushing?”

He’s quickening his pace again; your breath is stuttering at the feeling of his hard cock against you, letting out a pathetic whine at the way he begins to rut against you, slow and teasing as he rolls his hips into you, as though he were fucking you instead. 

“I’d take such good care of you,” he groans, listening to the way your breath is beginning to become ragged, lips continuing their descent from your neck to your collarbones, where he lets his teeth graze against the skin that’s being shown for a moment, “Really take my time with you…finally have you all to myself for once.”

“Soobin…” you say, an air of uncertainty to your tone— but Soobin is in complete disregard of it, needy hands pulling at the top of your dress to get access to your breasts— his free hand is slipping under the cup your bra while his mouth attaches to your nipple, pulling out a broken moan from you and threading your fingers through his hair subconsciously; his palm is pressing against your clit, making your walls clench around his fingers and causing him to laugh softly against your skin. 

“What’s wrong?” he asks, beginning to rub quick circles on your clit with his thumb instead; listening to the way you keen and react to his touch immediately, your body buzzing with pent up pleasure that’s waiting to snap and release. “Don’t you like me?”

“I…” you’re trailing off without meaning to; it’s hard to concentrate with the way Soobin fucks you with his fingers so expertly, his breath fanning on your sensitive nipple with every soft moan he lets out; still rutting against you, his hand going back down to your hips to press you closer against him— you feel caged in by him, his fingers digging into your skin as he lets out a soft hmm? that urges you to answer his question and snaps you out of your reverie.

“Do you?” he asks again, slowing his pace to try and clear your mind, teasing you as he continues to rub soft circles on your clit— you nod frantically, breathing out a soft Soobin, please, that he doesn’t pay attention to— instead, he comes back up to capture your lips for a kiss, harsh and frantic as he bites your lip coyly; the whine you let out is enough for him to pull away with a soft sigh. 

“Tell me. I wanna hear it from you.”

He’s picking up his pace the moment you open your mouth to speak; a choked whine cutting off your words, eyes fluttering shut as his fingers begin to pump into you ruthlessly, the wet sounds making your face feel hot and mind blank as you let your mouth run, not paying attention to what you say. 

“I— I like you, I really like you,” you cry, the pleasure building to such an intensity that you feel tears pricking at your eyes, “you’re all I think about, Soobin— ugh, fuck— need you, want you to fuck me, wanna cum, please? Wanna feel you inside me, ‘m close— ah, Soobin please—”

Your words get cut off with a sharp cry; your body freezes up and is left for Soobin to control as he talks you through it all, cooing soft praise and reassurance in your ear as he presses soft kisses on your jaw— words soft and sweet, making your head spin and cunt clench around his fingers a little tighter— my good girl, so perfect for me, pretty thing, feel so good…

Soobin thinks he could cum just like this; your face is flushed and pretty as you look at him with glassy eyes, hips grinding into his hand as he continues to softly fuck you with his fingers, watching the way you jolt and whimper from the sensation— his cock is pathetically hard and leaking in his pants, practically throbbing as he continues to rut against you— but then he remembers your cute begging, unable to resist to such a request as he finally pulls away from you, fingers slowly pulling out of your cunt as he glances down to see the mess he’s made of you.

You can only watch and let out a weak sigh as you watch him slip his glistening fingers into his mouth, tongue curling around the digits and cleaning them entirely as he groans at the taste— your face feels like it’s on fire, and his eyes never leaves yours as his pretty lips slowly wrap around them. 

He’s undoing his jeans quicker than you can process; bringing you in for another sweet kiss, your hand wandering to wrap around his cock as you feel him hiss into your mouth— hips bucking slowly to the pace you’ve set for him, tip sticky and leaking as you swipe a thumb over it and spread the precum along the rest of his length.

“Condom,” you say breathlessly, feeling the way Soobin’s hands have found purchase on your waist again; slotting himself between your legs and standing impossibly close, enough to feel his wet tip touching your inner thigh— and he moans softly, the sensitive feeling of your warm skin enough to leave him dazed and responding a bit late to your words. 

“Fuck— right, right,” he groans softly, biting at his lip as he pats around his pockets; and by the way his brows knit together and he hesitantly reaches into his front pockets, you can already guess what he’s thinking— because you find yourself thinking it as well. 

You want to feel him without that thin layer of protection; want to feel the raw friction, wishing for nothing more but for him to fill you and have you leaking around his cock— but as you roll on the condom for him with a deft hand, you know that this is for the best— a small reminder of what you two are, that you can never truly get comfortable around each other. 

“Shit, so wet for me,” he says softly, teasing you as he runs his cock up and down your entrance; grinding softly against your clit, listening to your every whimper and whine keenly before he begins to tease his tip at your entrance— you’re both hissing at the stretch, always eager to feel the way he stretches you open, cunt never truly used to it no matter how many times you do this.

You’re letting out a sigh of content the moment he slides inside you; feeling his hands guide your hips into meeting him halfway, his soft moans and breaths fanning across your neck as his lips begin to suck at your neck again; you have half the mind to thread your fingers through his hair and tug slightly, muttering a soft no marks, Soobin, that has him huffing in disappointment. 

“And why not?” he asks, beginning to move his hips slowly; cock touching all your sensitive places so sweetly, as though it was the only thing he knew how to do, “you can just say it was from a random hookup— nothing wrong with that.”

God, he’s insufferable; he follows your request as he pulls away from his spot in the crook of your neck, pace beginning to build as he watches the way you fall apart on his cock; thick and big, always leaving your legs shaking as he holds your hips in place, one hand sliding down to grab your thigh and bring it up around his waist, as though you were nothing but a cute toy for him to fuck— your hands hold onto his broad shoulders for stability, nails digging into his skin through his thin tee as you simply shake your head with the last bit of coherency you have. 

“Aren’t you tired of sneaking around so much? Of having all these odd things we just can’t do when we’re literally—” he punctuates his words with a harsh thrust that has you yelping pathetically, “fucking, while you’re supposed to be babysitting your friend?” 

Your face burns at his words— he’s struck a nerve and he knows it, especially with the way your nails bite at his skin a little more than they already were— but even though you try to get angry at him, though you try to say something, you can’t, not with the way he’s fucking you so good that you can’t form a simple sentence. 

“We could be at my place right now— you wouldn't've had to go to this— fuck, this lame party in the first place, we could’ve just… hah, hung out at my place, let me take care of you.” 

His words send butterflies through your stomach— and it’s exactly why you let out a soft no, we can’t, at his words, the very idea of venturing into something more intimate making you weak in the knees— and he frowns, his grip becoming a bit bruising as his hips snap against yours, the sounds of skin against skin filling the room and rivaling the music that pours through from outside.

“So what, is this better for you?” he asks meanly, voice darkening at the way you can barely keep up with his pace, too fucked out to process his words fast enough, “do you enjoy having to face your friend after we’re done?” 

His words have you seething out a harsh fuck you in response; a hand leaves his shoulder to find itself tangled in his hair, pulling at it harshly before you’re bringing him closer to you— your waterline is lined with tears and your face is flushed as you give him a half-hearted glare. 

“Soobin, just shut up,” you grit out, watching the way his eyes narrow and harden in response— his hand has found its way back to your clit, circling it in a way that has you clenching around his cock and moaning pathetically.

“Pretty thing just wants to get fucked then? Wanna cum?” he coos, feeling the way your body has begun to tense at his ministrations, unable to answer him from how good you feel, “come on then, use me sweet thing, wanna— wanna feel it, know you can do it, filthy thing only knows how to come to me when you’re needy, isn’t that right?”

Your thighs are slick and your body is tensing from the feeling of Soobin towering over you, feeling as though he’s everywhere at once; his dark voice whispering endless filth into your ear, his breathy moans brushing against your skin and making you shiver with a small cry— his fingers dig a little into you, keeping your bucking hips still and forcing your body to cum again; pressing you firmly into the wall as you do, feeling the way your thighs tense and quiver under his hold as he lets you ride it out with slow and deep thrusts; pretty voice humming praise into your ear, settling your shaking body as he tells you thaaaat’s it, good girl, so pretty when you cum. 

You’re panting weakly into the air as your body finally comes down— but Soobin is still hard inside you, the feeling of your clenching and tight walls around him only encouraging to continue chasing his high— and you let him, leaning your head against the wall and watching with lidded eyes as he continues to fuck you, brows knitting at the sensitivity. 

He’s close, and your body is becoming more and more sensitive the longer he fucks you; crying softly with every thrust of his cock, letting out choked whimpers every time his tip bumps against your sweet spot— and you let him, let his hands wander and lips suck gently at your skin, not enough to leave marks but enough to have your back arching and legs shaking once more. 

His pace is picking up, becoming sloppy, and you think he’s about to cum— only for him to stutter to a stop at the sound of your ringtone, your eyes widening as you look over at the table next to you that you threw it on; your friend’s contact name lights up the screen. 

“Answer it,” Soobin says roughly, voice slightly strained from how good you feel around him— your eyes widen as you shake your head no frantically, only to watch in horror as Soobin reaches for the phone for you; you can feel your blood grow cold the moment he answers the call and presses your phone firmly against your ear— in a panic, you grab a hold of it yourself.

“He—hello?”

Your friend is asking you where you are— she wants to leave, she doesn’t feel well, asking if you can take her home— she’s drunk and you can barely focus on her slurred words, Soobin’s unpredictable pace returning as he goes back to fucking you; the wet sounds are enough to have your eyes widening in panic, biting your lip and reaching out to slap a hand on top of Soobin’s mouth. He lets you, staring at you with dark eyes as his thrusts become rougher, choosing to aim for the specific spots he knows drive you crazy; a stray tear falls from your eyes from the effort of having to hold in your sounds. 

“Where— are you— hmmm?” you’re lucky your friend is wasted. She doesn’t pick up on your struggle to articulate your words, telling you that she’s been sitting outside on the porch trying to contact you— you wince, partly at her words, and partly because Soobin is noticeable close, frantically rutting into you as muffled moans sound against the palm of your hand; clearly more dramatic than usual, wanting to be heard as you can feel his lips part against your hand, the messy drool building up on the corners of his lips as you wince. 

“Okay, I’ll—” Soobin cums with a particularly loud groan and a thrust that lets him bottom out; he’s entirely inside you as he lets his head rest on your shoulder, the feeling so sudden it has you cutting yourself off in order to bite your lip pathetically— still caged in and left at Soobin’s mercy as he plants soft kisses along your shoulders, cock still moving ever-so-slightly as you finally find the courage to speak.

“I’ll be there in a bit.”

You hang up after hearing her drunken okay.

It’s silent. It’s tense, and you’re unsure of what to say, and slightly afraid of what Soobin will say. Instead, he pulls away without a word; slides out of you with nothing but a soft wince, taking off the condom and tucking himself in quietly— you can only stand and watch as he turns to the private bathroom of the bedroom, tossing the used condom in the trash before you hear the sound of the sink running; you can’t help but cringe at the awkwardness of it all.

“You okay?” he asks once he finally emerges, raising a brow at the way you seem surprised at his comment— only for your eyes to fall at the towel in his hands, face heating up at the way he slowly approaches you, crowding your space once more. 

He’s cleaning you up without another word; even when you try to get the rag from him, try to do it yourself, he doesn’t let you— his touch is tender and has your heart racing, your mind trying to get yourself to calm down the moment your eyes meet; a cold reminder of where you are, of the reality of it all.

Soobin doesn’t let you stick to this reality for long; not with the way he’s fixing your clothes carefully and pulling you in for a soft kiss, hands running up and down your body as he mutters a soft so perfect— and you’re snapping out of it once more, pushing against his chest with a firm hand.

“Soobin, please,” you say quietly, unable to meet his eyes as you stare down at the floor instead. You hear him let out a tired sigh.

“We can’t keep this up forever,” is all he says, voice so quiet you have to strain to hear him, “You’ll have to pick a side eventually.”

That much is obvious to you; and though it hurts to meet his gaze, hurts to see the way his eyes hold a sense of longing that you haven’t allowed yourself to reveal, you refuse to acknowledge his comment. 

“I have to go to my friend.”

His face is painted with disappointment. 

“Sure.”

You’re quick to go to push past him and go to the door— his voice stops you before you can even turn the knob.

“See you later?”

His voice has that soft rumble that always makes you shiver without fail— and despite your better judgment, you nod your head.

“Yeah.”

And the cycle continues.