#but even then we measure our contentment by how it feels not to have it

[loonysama]

I have to agree with everything above. I'm not saying the fic that made me want to stop writing was just because only 1.75% of hits got kudos, but I'd be lying if I didn't say how much that hurt, especially for imo one of the best fics I've ever written that I was already barely able to write due to such small kudos to hits ratios lately. I get that it might not have been something everyone was into, but damn. It made me feel like shit. I'm so grateful for everyone who has supported me over the last few years - especially those who have created art for my fics and read and left kudos on everything - but I think the sting of having my writing be unliked by so many people has been really hard to get over. It shot my confidence and I've had trouble writing ever since. And over the years, I have known several writers who have stopped writing altogether because of this, and even left the fandom because of it. I do not plan to do either, but to be honest, it has been a struggle not to be able to do something I really love doing because it just made me feel so bad to do it.

I wish so much that readers didn't use kudos as a measure of how much they like something. I wish so much that it meant, "Hey, it's so cool that you worked so hard on this so I could devour more content about my favorite ship without paying for it," rather than, "This was amazing, one of the most amazing things I've ever read, so I'm going to reward you with the coveted heart of approval I only use to let the most special of writers know they're the best because they deserve it more than everyone else." This can create competition amongst writers when there really shouldn't be. And more than anything, I wish I could just turn kudos off altogether, but I can't because every single kudo I get lifts my spirits just a little, and that's a really hard feeling to walk away from, even though I suspect most of them come from "guest" bots.

It is a dark truth, and writers aren't really allowed to talk about this because we are supposed to be so grateful for every single heart, and talking about this makes us come across as entitled. We provide a free service for our readers, and I consider a kudo to be a way to acknowledge that, and it costs readers absolutely nothing! In the US, we leave money in tip jars for practically everything. Kudos are tips you don't have to pay for. And it's not like anyone's keeping track and judging readers for leaving hearts for fics that might not be the pinnacle of greatness in their opinion. That's what bookmarks are for, and they can be made private. However, people do judge fics for not having that many kudos and some will skip over fics if the kudos-to-hits ratio is too low. So instead of rewarding only the very best fics with kudos, not leaving kudos actually hurts writers. Not to mention the very personal cost of putting ourselves out there and making ourselves completely vulnerable for everyone to judge us against our fellow writers. Many writers write about very personal things, and tbh, not getting kudos can feel like it's not just our writing being rejected, but ourselves.

So if anyone wants to accuse writers of feeling entitled for being upset about not getting enough kudos, please consider how entitled readers who don't leave kudos are for reading our free labor and not clicking a freaking button (that costs them absolutely nothing) in acknowledgment of the service we happily provide, and how ungrateful they are for not appreciating what we do. We don't have to post our writing. We could just "write for ourselves," but we don't; we share what we write with our readers because that give and take relationship should be rewarding for both writers and readers. But not getting kudos does more to discourage writers from writing altogether than to encourage them to provide more content. You wouldn't pay for a fancy coffee or overpriced cocktail drink without leaving a dollar in the tip jar, would you?

So at the very least, I wish people would stop making writers feel guilty for feeling this way, and I wish writers wouldn't buy into this way of thinking rather than valuing all of our hard work and countless hours that go into writing fanfic. Our feelings are valid; we're allowed to feel like shit when our hard work and vulnerability go unacknowledged for the mere reason that it was judged against someone else's work and found wanting. Wouldn't most readers feel that way if it was the other way around?

Is leaving kudos on fanfics not common courtesy anymore?

Something I've noticed on AO3 in the last two years is the lack of kudos and comments left on fanfics.

Fanfics have an increasing number of hits, but their kudos and comments remain minimal.

I understand that leaving comments is daunting, but kudos is the easiest thing you can do to show support and appreciation for an author.

Part of me wants to blame BookTok and the commercialized consumption of books.

Readers are more demanding and impatient for content, but they're quick to move on once a book is published. It's a constant demand for 'More, more, more' without appreciating and/or supporting authors. And these readers are now getting into fanfic.

I don't want to complain because it's not productive. But if you're new and getting into fanfic: Support writers.

Support means leaving kudos on AO3, and if you're able, leaving a comment. It's simple courtesy.

[not-poignant]

19 and 20!

19. Tell me a story about your writing journey. When did you start? Why did you start? Were there bumps along the way? Where are you now and where are you going?

Oh this is... this will be long and it's 12.13am and I don't want to write long, so I'm going to shorthand it:

Started writing as a kid, liked it, pure escapism and needed that shit because real life sucked. Enjoyed reading and though 'I could do that' before anyone told me no. Wrote several novels as a 10 year old before I realised actually you're supposed to learn how to do it first. I still like those stories. Finished my first epic fantasy trilogy by the age of 12/13.

Lots of bumps, including some creative writing at university which killed all my passion to write. The long and short of it is that I could write award-winning short stories and poems, but I hated all of it and judged and edited everything I wrote to the point where I...stopped.

Stopped all writing. For many years. Became pro-artist. Occasionally write very short fanfics that only ever got posted on Livejournal or Schnoogle. Never liked any of it.

Quit art, had a mental breakdown, needed that good good pure escapism again. Read a lot of fanfiction. Made a fandom Tumblr. Watched Rise of the Guardians, went to town on AO3, wrote literally whatever the fuck I wanted even though I was sure people would hate it and hate me. Some folks said 'hey these OCs are alright' and I went 'sure okay.'

Here we are. :)

20. If a witch offered you the choice between eternal happiness with your one true love and the ability to finally finish, perfect, and publish your dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP in exactly the way you've always imagined it — which would you choose? You can’t have both sorry, life’s a bitch

I don't want both. I don't want either. Fuck monogamy, lmao. (For me! Not for anyone else reading this! I am a walking caveat!!!)

I don't want perfection. I don't have a 'most precious WIP.' Stories are easy to come by, and they're all fun. Characters are easy to come by, and you can hurt/comfort nearly all of them. There is no 'dearest, darlingest, most precious WIP' like damn.

I also...don't want eternal happiness. Like Arden, in FFS, I do not believe that the goal of life is eternal happiness. That's literally not the way our brains are built. Emotions are meant to transform. The good news is - that means all the ones that make you feel like shit. The bad news is - that means all the ones that make you feel good. That's why it's so important to learn how to tolerate and sit with all your emotions free from judgement, because the sooner you do that, the more often you'll feel happiness in general.

We're not made, as a species, to feel happy all the time. You ever see people shaking their indoor plants to mimic wind because otherwise they grow all weak and shit and die early because they had no challenges? Yeah.

And yes, I've had challenges, and I'm also not an indoor plant, I just don't believe eternal happiness is the goal here.

Also I'm polyamorous so this whole 'one true love' thing can fuck right off. This question just reads a little like 'u have one true love story and u have one true love person' and folks can live like that but a bitch could never (it's me, I'm bitch)

--

From the Weird Writing Asks meme!

[kbwrites]

Heated Waters

synopsis: being married is hard, being married without seeing each other is even harder.

⚝ content: Hiromi Higuruma x F! Reader, nsfw, bathtub sex, fingering, Hiromi neglects his wife, but boy does he make up for it

⚝ wc: 1.9k

“Yeah we do it pretty much every day.”

Satoru said, taking a leisurely sip of his water. His pale face alight with mischief, a shit-eating grin across his lips. His three coworkers stared at him in (jealousy) disbelief.

Suguru was the first to break the silence, wanting to save face “Everyday is a bit much, isn’t it, Satoru?”

Satoru chuckled, his blue eyes glinting with amusement as he watched his friend squirm. "What about you guys? How often do our married friends get it in?" His gaze flickered to Nanami, who cleared his throat and adjusted his glasses, his eyes fixed on the steam rising from his coffee cup.

“Twice a week, I suppose…”

Satoru's smile widened, clearly entertained by the responses he was drawing out. He then turned his attention to the oldest among them, Hiromi Higuruma, who was carefully straightening his tie, a subtle attempt to avoid eye contact.

“What about you, Higuruma?”

“Your wife, (Y/N) is a little younger than you, right? C’mon Higuruma-San…She a total freak?” Satoru teased.

Hiromi's jaw tightened, a flicker of irritation crossing his features as his grip on his coffee cup tightened. He took a slow, measured breath, his voice strained but controlled when he finally spoke.

“Please don’t talk about my wife like that.”

But Satoru, ever the instigator, didn’t back down. “It’s just us guys riiggght? And I can’t lie Higuruma, you’re one lucky guy. (Y/N) is a catch.”

Nanami nodded in agreement, as did Suguru, though both seemed to sense the discomfort growing in Hiromi. The older man could only sigh, his shoulders sagging under the weight of the conversation.

It was true—you were everything he could have ever wanted in a partner. Beautiful, intelligent, kind-hearted—his perfect match. If heaven existed, Hiromi was certain you’d be the only one worthy of it.

But long nights in the office, and early mornings preparing for court would take a toll on any relationship. The truth was… Hiromi hadn’t touched you in over a month. By the time he came home—you were fast asleep, and weekends were spent running the mountain of errands you couldn’t get to during the week. You loved each other of course, but it was hard. A month without feeling the warmth of your husband's hands all over your skin was starting to weigh heavily on both of you.

“You don’t have to answer Higuruma-san..” Nanami chimed in, sensing his elder colleague’s discomfort.

“Over a month.” Hiromi exhaled, the truth slipping out before he could stop it.

The room fell silent, the weight of his words sinking in.

“WHAT?” Gojo audibly gasps. “Your wife looks like THAT and you haven’t f—”

Suguru swiftly cut him off with a well-placed elbow to the chest. “Satoru… leave Higuruma alone.” The long-haired male warns. “Still, that is surprising.”

“I know I know..” Higuruma pinches his bridge. He wanted nothing more than to have his wife under him… on top of him. But the endless stream of work kept him trapped in a cycle of exhaustion. “I’ve been so busy I can’t even remember the last time I actually spoke to her properly.”

Suguru offered an apologetic smile. “Sounds like you need a break.”

“Sounds like you need some puss—” Nanami quickly elbowed Satoru in the chest before he could finish his sentence.

Hiromi shook his head, letting out a dry chuckle as he ran a hand through his dark locks, clearly frustrated with himself. “I appreciate your concern, guys, but I don’t see how I can take a break right now. I have so much work to do, and I’m the only one who knows how to handle all of it.”

“Higuruma-San. Satoru will take care of the paperwork for you.” Nanami suggested with a deadpan expression.

“HUH?” Satoru blurted out, clearly caught off guard by the sudden assignment.

“Yeah,” Nanami continued, ignoring Satoru’s protest. “It’s not like he actually does any work around here anyway.”

Suguru smirked, nodding in agreement. “That’s true. You might as well make yourself useful, Satoru.”

Before Hiromi could protest, the trio moved in unison—Suguru grabbing Hiromi’s briefcase, Nanami steering him toward the door, and Satoru sighing dramatically as he resigned himself to the task.

“Are… are you boys sure about this? I don’t want to burden you–”

“Nonsense! Go home and take care of your wife!”

Hiromi placed his briefcase by the door, his tie feeling suddenly too tight around his neck. He loosened it with a sigh, running a hand through his hair as he glanced around. The familiar scent of home greeted him. It was comforting yet bittersweet, a reminder of all the moments he had missed. The living room was tidy, the soft hum of the dishwasher running in the kitchen. You had clearly been busy, taking care of the house as you always did, even when he wasn’t around.

“Honey?” Hiromi calls out to you, his voice echoing slightly in the stillness.

Frowning, he shrugged off his jacket and draped it over the back of a chair before making his way down the hall. As he approached the bathroom, he noticed a faint light seeping out from under the door, accompanied by the sound of water gently lapping against the tub.

He hesitated for a moment, then slowly opened the door.

The sight that greeted him made his breath catch in his throat. There you were, reclining in the bathtub, your eyes closed, head resting on the edge as steam rose around you. The soft glow of candles illuminated the room, casting a warm, serene light over your features.

You looked so peaceful, so beautiful—that it almost hurt to look at you. The tension in his shoulders eased slightly as he took in the sight, but the guilt and longing only deepened. How long had it been since he’d taken the time to appreciate you like this? Since he’d been able to just… be with you?

You opened your eyes, gaze meeting your husband as he leaned against the door frame.

“Hiromi?” you murmured, your voice soft, almost questioning, as if unsure whether he was really there or just a figment of your imagination.

“Hey Honey…” his voice equally soft, as he took a tentative step closer. The warmth of the room seemed to wrap around him, melting away some of the day’s stress.

“You’re home early.” You muse, looking at him as you rested your arms on the tub. He doesn’t respond, just walks towards you with purposeful steps.

Hiromi stares down at you with half-lidded eyes.“The guys decided I need a break.” He paused, his breath hitching slightly as he continued, “Can I join you?” A playful smirk tugged at the corner of your lips.

“Only if you take off your clothes this time.”

A dry chuckle escaped his lips as he unbuttons his dress shirt, letting each article of clothing fall to the tile floor. As he finally sheds his boxers before settling behind you. You exhaled softly, the tension you’d been holding onto for weeks dissipating as you sank into your husband’s embrace.

Hiromi didn’t waste a moment, his lips finding the sensitive skin of your neck, placing lazy, lingering kisses along the curve where your shoulder met your throat. His breath was warm against your skin, his kisses slow and unhurried, as if savoring every second, every inch of you.

His hands weren’t idle either, tracing gentle patterns along your stomach, moving upwards to cup your breasts with a tenderness that made your breath hitch. He nipped lightly at your earlobe, his voice a husky murmur, “I’ve missed you… more than you know.”

“Missed you too ‘Romi..” Your voice trembling as the almost foreign heat began to pool in your core.

Deft fingers teased your nipples, rolling and pinching—eliciting a soft moan from your lips as your body arched into his touch. Your hand reached back, tangling in his dark locks, pulling him closer as his lips traveled down to your shoulder, his other hand snaking under the water to your aching cunt.

“ahhhh… s-shitt..” You cry out as Hiromi’s fingers slowly circle your swollen bud. His touch light, teasing.

“Thirty-two days… I’m so sorry m’love.” He mumbles into your shoulder as he slips a slender digit into your entrance. Your walls flutter immediately around the intrusion, as he gently pumped into you.

He adds another finger, curling up to the spot he had neglected all those weeks. He extended his thumb to rub your clit. You arch your back against him, feeling his cock twitch against your ass.

“Hiro…” you moan, reaching behind for him, but he bites down lightly on your shoulder.

“Not yet, pretty girl, want you t’cum first okay?”

He whispers as he feels your gummy walls clench around him.

He speeds up his ministrations, digits stuffing your cunt as your pussy throbs and squelches. Your whimpers echo around the tiled walls, water lapping around your bodies.

You feel the pressure building as each thrust of his long fingers brush against your g-spot.

“g-gonna cum!”

“Cum f’me sweetheart please—god… need it so bad.” Hiromi mumbles as he pumps even faster.

“a-ahh!” you cry as you reach your high, walls clenching as you cum on your husband’s hand. He removes his fingers from you, moving to gently circle your clit as you come down from your orgasm.

You both stay there for a moment, your heavy breathing the only sound occupying the space, mingling with the gentle slosh of water against the porcelain tub. Hiromi’s arms wrapped securely around your waist, pulling you closer.

Slowly, he lifted you, the warm water swirling around you both as he maneuvered you to face him, settling you on his lap. Your legs instinctively wrapped around his waist, your knees pressing against the cool sides of the tub.

You straddled Hiromi, your bodies now fully aligned, chest to chest. Your husband's dark, half-lidded eyes bore into yours, his expression a mixture of raw need and unspoken tenderness. He let his hands rest on your waist for a moment, thumbs tracing gentle circles against your damp skin as he took in the sight of you.

“I don’t know how I’ve stayed away from you for so long…” his voice breaking slightly as if the admission pained him.

Your breath hitched as you shifted slightly in his lap, feeling the tension between you intensify. Hiromi’s hands slid up your sides, his touch deliberate and slow, leaving a trail of heat in their wake as his lips finally found yours. The kiss was deep, full of hunger that had been simmering between you both for far too long.

His grip on your waist tightened as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sliding against yours in a dance that left you dizzy with need.

Breaking the kiss, Hiromi leaned his forehead against yours, his breath coming in shallow gasps.

“I won’t make that mistake again.”

Without a word, he rose from the tub, lifting you effortlessly into his arms. Water cascaded down your bodies, pooling at your feet as he carried you toward the bedroom, his lips trailing wet kisses down the side of your neck.

He laid you gently onto the bed, your back sinking into the soft silken sheets, but Hiromi didn’t waste any time. His gaze darkening as he climbed over you, his body hovering just above yours, his eyes drinking you in like a man starved.

“I’m going to make up for every second I’ve missed.”

[5sospenguinqueen]

Needle Little Love | Charles Leclerc x Ferrari! Reader

Summary: When you’re announced as Ferrari’s newest driver, fans love the budding friendship between you and Charles, especially when he adopts your penchant for crochet puns. Netflix expose that there’s more to the story. 

Warnings: Slightly suggestive content. Swearing. Fluff

2023-2024 timeline. Pinterest pics.

Requested: Yes by @rebelwrites. Find the full request here

A/N: There's a blurb halfway down

F1 Masterlist

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its_ynln just posted

liked by charles_leclerc, olliebearman and others 

its_ynln chronicles of yarnia 🧶

1,609 comments 

francisca.cgomes okay but i’m gonna need that top in all colours please

→ its_ynln let me get your measurements at zandvoort 

user1 what is charles doing here

→ its_ynln i’m plagued by his brother and we both like to go zoom?

→ arthur_leclerc just for that, i’m not coming to your celebration party in zandvoort. i’ll go party with charles

→ its_ynln don’t want you there anyway 

→ oscarpiastri @/charles_leclerc the girls are fighting again 

→ user2 i love how they’re just assuming she’ll win 

lilymhe i love my pillow! thank you thank you thank you 🌼

→ alex_albon she literally carries it everywhere and i’m not allowed to touch it 

user3 we love how racing is just her side hobby 

jackdoohan day 116 of asking you to make me my own dinosaur 

→ its_ynln i can make a voodoo doll of you if you don’t stop pestering me

→ jackdoohan i’ll be glad when you’re gone

→ user4 gone where! 

→ user5 well she is currently leading the f2 championship, and they won't let her back 

user6 drop the patterns please, babe

user7 i love how half the people here are because of her crochet, not because she drives

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f1 just posted

liked by ferraridriveracademy, oscarpiastri and others 

f1 welcome to the team @/its_ynln we look forward to seeing you on the grid in the new year 

5,533 comments

its_ynln what can i say, it’s knot just another hobby

→ user8 babe, stick to crochet. stand up comedy is not for you 

ferraridriveracademy take good care of our girl 

→ scuderiaferrari thanks for letting us have her

charles_leclerc welcome to the team 😄

→ user9 why is this the blandest welcome ever 

→ user10 someone feels threatened

→ arthur_leclerc *trying to contain his excitement

francisca.cgomes this is the best news ever. will you teach me to crochet?

→ pierregasly because stealing my girlfriend over summer break wasn’t bad enough?

→ its_ynln are you still salty that she let me touch her boobs

→ user11 i know it was to measure her chest for clothes but still.. 

scuderiaferrari are we going to have to pr train you? @/its_ynln

→ liamlawson30 yes

→ alex_albon yes 

→ jackdoohan yes

→ its_ynln why am i being attacked by twice the amount of people now? 

arthur_leclerc thank god she’s not my problem anymore 

→ its_ynln i’ll always be your problem, little leclerc 

→ oscarpiastri oh fuck, she’s my problem now

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by maxverstappen1, pierregasly and others  

charles_leclerc winter break spent somewhere sunny  

2,316 comments

scuderiaferrari come back, we miss you 

user1 um, whose hand is he reaching for in that first pic 

→ user2 idk but we should be saying thank you for dressing him in that shirt 

its_ynln is your skin ferrari red yet 

→ charles_leclerc no, i keep getting slathered in sun cream :(

→ arthur_leclerc factor 50? 

→ user3 i love that she’s bullying him before she’s even been his teammate on track

user4 this shirt looks similar to one yn posted a few weeks ago??

→ user5 and the hat!!

→ user6 omg how cute would it be if charles was asking her to crochet him some clothes 

→ user7 we love a supportive teammate

landonorris rocking the bucket hat, mate. think i can get one in papaya? 

→ charles_leclerc i’ll hook you up

oscarpiastri i miss you, dad

→ its_ynln i’m not babysitting next year. just putting that out there ahead of time 

→ charles_leclerc not even if i ask nicely?

→ its_ynln maybe if you let me win

→ charles_leclerc 🤔🤨

user8 why are we skipping past the sneaky soft launch?

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2024

“You know, we both have driver’s rooms for this sort of thing,” you breathed, giggling when Charles’ facial hair tickled your neck. 

His mouth sucked gently on the pulse point thrumming beneath his tongue, tracing kisses from your ear down to your collarbone. The stack of worn tyres cushioned your back as he pressed your harder against them when you reached around to pinch his backside. 

“Oi, I’m talking to you.” 

“I’m sorry, mon ange, but you looked so good when you were giving that interview. And you kept laughing-”

“Oh, so it’s not that I’m so irresistible that you couldn't wait until we were safely in the garage. It’s that you were jealous.” You raised an eyebrow at him, unable to fight the smile at his rougish grin. 

“You are irresistible,” he murmured, hands snaking around your waist to pull you flush against him. “Why else would I be making out with you in an alley behind the motorhome?”

“Because you’re a horndog.” 

You and Charles had been dating for the past year, having met after he caught you winding up his younger brother one race weekend. Ferrari had been eyeing you up all year, asking the Monagesque what he thought of you, prompting him to pay closer attention. Prior to you signing your contract, you’d had to disclose your relationship to Fred Vasseur. Whilst the senior members of the team were aware of your more-than-teammates status, the majority of the paddock were in the dark. Both of you wished to keep the relationship under wraps until your rookie year in F1 had passed, reducing speculation that Charles was the only reason you got your seat. Sneaking around the motorhome was a lot safer than making out behind tyre stacks, but Charles didn’t care at this moment in time. 

“You going to be nice and let me win today?” He teased, nibbling at your lower lip. 

“I think you mean, am I going to let you massage my feet after I win? I won here last year.”

“Yes, yes, bow down to you.”

“Well, I do like you on your knees.” 

Grinning, Charles captured your lips with his once more. Tongue swiping against your bottom lip, he groaned against you when your tongue met his. Hands snaking into his hair, you tugged gently on the soft strands, enjoying the whimper you pulled from his lips. He tilted his hips, pressing himself against you. 

“The things you do to me.”

A loud cough - more of a throat clearing - tore the two of you apart. Wide eyed and panting, you both turned in horror to look at the misfortune person who stumbled across you. Fred Vasseur stood at the end of the alleyway, shaking his head at his two drivers. It was bad enough watching them make heart eyes at each other during data reviews but this. Behind him stood a cameraman and a mic guy, mouths agape at their luck. Drive to Survive would be flooded with viewers once they teased this. Breaking News: Ferrari drivers caught locking lips in secret tryst. 

“I’ve got Netflix following me around today.” Fred said bluntly, staring you both down. 

“Oh crap.”

“Yeah.” 

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next day

charles_leclerc just posted

liked by its_ynln, arthur_leclerc and others

charles_leclerc you could say we’re a close knit bunch

4,416 comments

its_ynln i fell for you hook, yarn and stitcher 

user8 not charles adopting her crochet puns 

jackdoohan so he gets a toothless keychain and i still don’t get my dinosaur? 

→ liamlawson30 that’s because he’s sleeping with her

→ jackdoohan if that’s the price...

scuderiaferrari finally. we were getting sick and tired of archiving all the pics we took of you both being cute. now we can post! 

→ arthur_leclerc please don’t. it’s bad enough seeing it in person for the past two years. i don’t want it on my timeline

→ user9 two years! they’ve been together two years! 

alex_albon can’t believe you posted a photo of her in a nice dress and didn't even give her photo creds

→ its_ynln he’s intimidated by my raw talent 

→ oscarpiastri i watched you flip over the handles of your bike the other day 

→ its_ynln raw talent

→ charlesleclerc @/its_ynln when was this? why didn’t you tell me? are you okay? 

georgrussell63 did she beat you?

→ charles_leclerc i let her win

→ landonorris yeah, you’ve been saying that all season, mate

→ its_ynln you got a nice consolation price out of it tho

→ arthur_leclerc ew!

user10 i love that charles has posted this and yn hasn’t mentioned anything about him lol 

→ user11 her entire insta is the two sides of her personality; car and yarn. can't have a man ruining the aesthetic

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A huge thank you to @rebelwrites for the request. I hope this lives up to expectations

Requests for F1 smau's are open. You can see who I write for on my Masterlist :)

[angelfrombeneth]

LET ME BE THE JUDGE OF THAT - T . NOTT

Mature Content Ahead

Theodore Nott x Fem!Reader

Summary: You and Enzo are best friend, you have a bi-weekly gossip session at the astronomy tower during your bi-weekly smoke break. During said gossip, Enzo drops some juicy goss about a certain slytherin boy and how he's 'packing', iygwim ;)

Warnings: SMUT, Switch Theo and Reader, Mentions of Smoking, Graphic descriptions of sex, Slight Male!Receiving Oral, Squirting

A/N: I apologise for any spelling mistakes or slightly off sentences. I did proof read but I am dyslexic with acrylics on so my spelling gets progressively worse.

Theodore Nott. The man he was. He was one of your friends, he was in the group of the original slytherins from day dot. You always harboured something towards him - you just didn't know if it was feelings or pure lust. The man was an absolute pantie dropper. He just got even hotter with puberty.

Though he wasn't as much as a whore as Mattheo, he definitely stuck his dick in a few things (stupid bitches). There were many rumours about him but no one knew it was real, no one kiss and told with him. For all you knew he could've been an absolute virgin. But one of the rumours was true, Enzo mentioned over your bi-weekly free period cig break in the Astronomy tower.

"Oh! I've got some goss for you" Enzo chuckled as he pointed his slender fingers at you. His cigarette perfectly slotted inbetween his index and middle.

"What?" You looked over at him intruiged, as you stayed sat against the railing of the tower, your feet dangling over the old cobble below.

"Theo" He smirked. If you were a dog your ears would've perked up. The way your body instantly sat up straight away as you looked over at him more alert than ever. Your hand paused infront of you, the cig butt burning out. "Its big" He winked.

"Oh fuck off 'Zo" You took a puff from your cig, letting it hit your throat before exhaling. "You're full of shit, I'm not sitting here and listening to you bullshit another stupid 'Big Dick of Hogwarts' again. Do you know I actually got with Adrien just to fucking see" You rolled your eyes.

Enzo laughed "Did you actually?!"

You nodded as you inhaled the smoke from your cigarette, flicking the end as ash fell from the tip. "Well embarassing too, was so turned off at the.. what 3 inches I had to work with, just walked out" You groaned.

Enzo snickered but collected himself. "I'm serious though, it's literally huge. He sent a picture to the lads groupchat-"

"Why?" You cut him off

"We wanted to compare dick sizes so we measure it against our DADA text books" Enzo shrugged.

"You lot are fucking stupid..." You shook your head. "But.. out of interest where abouts was it? Would you say centered with the authors name in the centre or? I know the book is 15 inches tall" You spoke, putting out your cig on the metal bar.

"Jesus fucking Christ you are a freak" Enzo laughed putting out his cigarette beside yours. "But it was to the title lettering"

You stood up in shock. "You're saying Theodore Nott has a 9 inch penis.."

"How do you know the size- Wait I'll just show you" He pulled his phone out of his pocket, pulling up the groupchat and showing you the picture. Now with Enzo, if you couldn't guess it by now, he was the male gay of the group - him and Pans representing the rainbow together. You all thought it would be Blaise he turns out he ended up hitting it off well with Luna Lovegood.

"No.. fucking way" You gripped the muggle phone as you stared at the picture. "This makes me want to fuck Theo even more 'Zo. I've been toying with the idea but fuck this solidifies it"

Enzo laughs "Well he's been having a 'dry spell at the moment' said he can't get it up because of an 'inconsistency' he said but he won't tell anyone. Sounds like he's seen something that'll only make him hard".

"Inconsistency? Pfft, I'll be the judge of that" You smirked.

"Oh I bet you will" He snickered.

"Jesus, this cig break was crazy" You laughed, giving Enzo his phone back and the two of you walked down the steps of the tower.

"I'll update you if I hear anything more from Mr 9 inches" Enzo winks.

You shook your head bidding him a goodbye.

Later that day, You made your way into the dungeons, walking to Enzo's dorm to tell him about the crazy fight between Astoria and a random Ravenclaw over Draco.

"Zo you'll never fucking believe it. Astoria ate shit today and got her ass handed to by a Raven...claw-" You flung open the door, looking up and locking eyes to chest with a very naked, towel covered sadly, Theo.

"My eyes are up here bella" He smirked.

You gawked at him, shocked to see him, especially how chiseled he was... as your mouth practically salivated at the sight of him.

"Bella?" Theo chuckled at your frozen figure.

"Respectfully Theo, I've always found you so fucking hot. But now I'm going to have to definitely suck you off" You smirked up at him.

He snickered as he gazed at you. His tongue running across his bottom lip before biting it. "You really dont play around... Come on then"

You slammed the door behind you as you lunged yourself at Theo, crashing your lips onto his. His hands roaming your body as your slid from his shoulders to his damp chest. Your fingers working through the crevasses slowly.

"My.. my.. So eager" He laughed as you pushed him back against a bed while yanking at the towel watching as he caught himself with his hands on the bed, sitting up as he supported himself completely naked.

You bit your lip as you dropped to your knees. "Fuck.. Enzo wasn't lying" You placed your hands on his thighs.

"What?" Theo froze.

"Enzo showed me your dick pic.. Its even bigger in person though" You bit your lip.

"Fucking Enzo.. So you saw my cock and now wanna suck it because of a picture?"

"Yeah pretty much" You licked a stripe up the base of his shafts to the tip as you peered up at him smirking as he let out a shaky gasp.

"You are a weird one Y/N.. Now hurry up before I fuck your face with it" He groaned slightly agitated at being teased.

"He also said about your inconsistency to get it up Nott.. you seem to not be having an issue" You smirked as you took his length into your hands as you jerked him off slightly as you kissed up his pelvis.

"Don't act so suprised bella.. We both know it was because of you and that cheeky thong of yours. Why'd you think that was OK?" Theo sighed as he bit his lip peering down at you.

"Me?" You questioned.

You peered outside your door, looking left and right before slithering out. You really wanted to grab some water from the kitchen but it was so late and you couldn't be asked to wait till breakfast.

You snuck out the common room, running down to the kitchen, grabbing a glass of water but also stealing a few biscuits while you were at it.

You had successfully made it back to the common room, slowly walking down the stairs before turning to walk up the stairs to your dorm. You felt a presence near you but you, looked around and saw no one. So you shrugged it off.

Third POV

"Fuck-" Theo hissed as he flicked his cigarette out the window as he stared at your figure stood at the end of the stairs.

The way you stood in your little black knee high socks, paired with an absolute ravishing black lace thong - leaving nothing to Theo's imagination. Not only that, a tiny crop top with underboov practically spilling out. Theodore was spoilt by this view. He noticed you didn't notice him as you crept back upstairs. The growing tent in his joggers as he stood up to readjust but ending up moaning at the slight friction of the fabric.

What you didn't know, is that night Theo went and jacked off 6 times thinking about you. He'd never came so much, let alone been so weak for anyone. You were all he could think about for weeks. Even when he came to the situation of fucking a random ass Ravenclaw after a party, he couldn't get it up. It wasn't until he thought about that night. You. He could. He ended up ploughing the fuck out of that poor Ravenclaw imaging the girl was you. After that he vowed to celibacy until he could get his hands on you.

"What are you talking about" You laughed as you kitten licked his tip, staring up at him as he fought back his moans. His fists whitening as he clenched then tightly.

"I.. saw you" He gulped, submitting and sitting on the bed as you shuffled closer. "Two weeks ago- You went somewhere I don't fucking know. But you were in a tiny fucking thong and- there was just so much boob and ass.." You tilted your head as you stared at him. "Y/N- I fucked my shit so hard- I fucked a random bitch- I nearly fucking moaned your name" He was pratically begging for you at this point.

You stood up, straddling his hips as you smirked at him, caressing his cheek. "I'm flattered Nott, if you wanted to fuck me you should've just asked" You bit your lip.

"God- S'bad.. I want you so bad Y/N" He pratically whimpered as his cock twitches up against your thigh.

"Who knew Theodore Nott was a begger.. especially with all this" You chuckled, running your hand up his whole length. You lifted your thong to the side as you lined up his dick with your entrance as you slowly sank down on it. Sighing softly as the poor boy whimpered under you.

"Good boy" You cooed, ruffling his hair as you slowly rocked your hips back and forth, biting your lip at the feeling of his dick moving inside of you, hitting your G-spot every. fucking. time.

"I fucking hate.. how weak you make me" He whines, a soft pout upon his lips as his hands grasp at your clothed breasts through your uniform.

You capture his lips, kissing him softly, speaking between the breaths- "You're so.. fucking.. hot.." You sighed as you arched your back, throwing your head back as you gripped his shoulders as you sped up the pace as you rode him. Your hips buckling against his chest as you left out soft whines and moans. Supporting yourself by your arms but you were growing weak. As much as it was hot to see a submissive Theodore, his dick was perfectly hitting your G-spot every fucking time that you were crumbling.

You threw your head forward, looking at Theo as you panted, your mouth open agape as you stared down at him. Lust in your eyes. "Ruin me Nott" you gagged out.

It was like a code word or something. In that moment, Theo pulled out and flipped you over. Ripping off your uniform but leaving your tie on. Slapping your ass harshly as he theusted his dick back into you, tugging on your tie, choking you slightly as he began to piston into you from behind. You gasped, a moan catching in your throat as your head leaned back slightly at the tug of the tie as you felt Theo's hand grip at your neck tightly as you gasped.

"Good girl.. Be good for me.. principessa" He whispered lowly as he let go of your tie, wrapping an arm around your waist as he yanked you up, leaning your back against his chest. You moaned lightly, gritting your teeth as his dick absolutely crushed your insides. His lips upon your neck, biting and sucking on the skin, as his free hand gripped your left breast.

"Fuck!" You whined out as you gasped. The overwhelming feeling of his dick and his touch was driving you insane. "I'm co-" You screamed out as he sped up his thrusts. You gripped his thighs, digging your nails into them as you screamed out. Your eyes rolling back as you let out a low groan as you came harshly against his dick.

Theo let go of you, letting you fall forward against the bed as you panted heavily, breath shaky as you gripped at the sheets below you. His dick still in you as he stared down at your twitching body.

"I'm not done yet, amore mio" He smirked, slapping your ass as he pulled out. Flipping you over as he leaned over kissing you softly. Your arms snaked around his neck, pulling his closer as you sucked on tongue as he gasped feeling him enter you once again.

"Theo- I don't think I can take anymore" You panted, giggling softly, slightly scared.

"You will" He smiled at you, kissing your cheek as he slowly dragged himself in and out of you. "I need to cum too, and you need to come atleast 2 more times" He winked.

His lips captured yours as he kissed you passionately. You wrapped your arms around his neck, your hand finding it's way through his curls as you tugged on them with each pummel into your G-spot. Theo definitely knew how to use all inches of his deadly weapon. You did question why you left it so long.

He pulled away, peppering kisses down your jaw, neck and collarbone, nibbling and sucking lightly occasionally scattering hickies and marks. "So. Beautiful" He growled as he grit his teeth. His grip on the headboard directly above you tightened as he thrusted harder onto you.

"T-Theo" you yelped, scratching down his back harshly with your sharp acrylics. Gasping as he cocked his leg up slightly hitting into you at a tilted angle driving you insane.

"Doing so good, darling. You look so beautiful" He pecked your lips as his grip tightened on his bed frame, thrusting faster as the bed below the pair of you began to creak with each movement. "Good girl.. You are doing so well" He kissed your cheek softly as you let out a soft string of moans.

Your eyes rolled back slightly as your panting became erratic, your toes curling as you shrieked, digging your nails further into his back. "Fuck! Fuckfuckfuckfuck- I'm cumming!" You screamed out as you arched your back, your legs twitching as Theo continued to relentlessly pound into you, showing no remorse for your sensitive state. You yelped loudly, throwing your head forward, locking eyes with him as the knot harshly unwrapped in your stomach as you came harshly against him. He continues to fuck you through your high causing you to squirt. Everywhere.

You threw your head back, squinting your eyes as you gritted your teeth whining as your hands fell from his back to the sheets as you fisted them. It took you a moment to come round, you were seeing white during your high. You noticed Theo slow down, but still continuing to slowly pump into you. You felt his hand caress your cheek as he chuckled softly.

"You alright bella? Thought I lost you there" He smirked softly as he kissed your forehead.

You looked up at him, panting softly, pulling his neck as you placed a soft kiss on his lips. "You're going to kill me Nott.. How have you still not came-" You groaned.

He laughed, hooking his arms under your thighs, he lifted you up causing you to shriek. The boy stood up, lowering you once against fully on his length. His hands gripping your ass as he thrusted into you. Your body recoiling against him as your skin slapped harshly against his.

"Fuck- There-" You gulped biting your lip as your hands gripped his shoulders.

"Love making you feel good.. I could make you cum all day, I don't care if i do too" You groaned, his jaw tensing as you noticed his dick twitch inside of you. He walked across the room, your body rebounding every thrust back into him as you whimpered lowly. He pushed you up against the door, his pace quickening once he leant u against it.

"Fuck yes! You're so tight for me bella, just for me-" He moaned softly into your ear as his face buried into your neck. Soft whimpers leaving his lips turning you on even more. Your hips bucked against him as you tightened your core as you began to lift yourself to bounce up and down. Soft moans leaving your lips as he bit at your neck, whining into your skin.

"M'close!-" He yelped, gulping as he kissed your roughly. You pulled him as close as you could as he continued to plough into you against the door. The pair of you gaining closer and closr to your releases. His thrusts progressively becoming more erratic.

Suddenly, Theo halted before he drop you to your feet, pulling out as you gasped at the sudden lack of pleasure. He pulls you to the bed again, pushing you face first down as he climbed ontop of you. You had no time to compute what was going on or question him. It all happened so fast. His legs eitherside yours trapping you down as he slaps your ass. A soft yelp leaving your lips as he spread your ass and thighs with his hand as he pushed back in. The boy was fucking mounting you like a horse.

He kisses your shoulder messily as he bites down on it, his thrusts becoming messy as you gripped at the sheets again. "Tell me if your- uncomftable" He groaned in your ear. His thrusts growing messier and messier as he sped up. His poor bed frame screaming for a break, constant creaking and slamming against the wall as you both moaned. You were worried for the dorm next door, the pair of you didn't think of a silencing charm.

His whimpering driving you over the edge as you screamed into the pillow. Theo knew you were close, he could feel it as you tightened around him.

The boy chased for his high along with you. You both letting out some rather unattractive groans and whines as you drew close together.

"Sei cosi' sexy" (You're so sexy) He groaned, nibbling at your shoulder as he continued to whimper softly in your ear. His pants become erratic as he continued to thrust into you, at a wildly animalistic pace. "Mio, tu sei mio..~" (Mine, you are mine..~) he whined out, pushing your hair aside as he sucked at your neck. His pants becoming gasps as his dick twitched inside of you. You had no clue what he was saying, but his Italian accent was making you even more wet.

"FUCK!-" you screamed as you sobbed into the pillow, biting the plush object as you harshly came against his thrusts as he sped up one last time, before delving deep inside of you, practically burying himself and his cum deep inside of you.

"Porca puttana, cosi' stretto! Tutto mio. Ti amo, cazzo-" (Holy shit, so tight! All mine. I fucking love you-) He groaned as he held himself above you, his arms shaking as he panted heavily. "Holy fuck.." He collected himself before pulling out and crashing beside you, pushing his hair out of his face.

The pair of you had a few minutes of silence, panting heavily and collecting yourself together.

You lifted your hair out of the pillow as you turned to look at his fucked out face beside you. You let out a soft snicker as you moved to cuddle him, putting your head on his chest.

Theo didn't know you knew a bit of Italian not much, but enough to know he just professed his love for you.

"Ti amo" You smiled up at him. His face shot to you, his eyes wide and his cheeks flushed.

"You understood?-" He gulped.

"Only slightly but, I love you too Theo" You kissed his cheek.

He shook his head, laying a soft kiss on your lips.

The two of you cuddled a bit longer before you retreated to the shower where you went another round. You don't know how you did it. Your legs certainly hate you at this point. He decided to leave some nasty bite marks and hickies on your thighs. He even drew blood a few times but that's something the two of you can toy with later...

Later you stumbled down the stairs in one of Theo's tshirts. Your hair very messy and skin peppered in hickies and bites from neck to thigh. Theo followed behind you.

You noticed your friends sat upon the couches in the common room.

You looked to Enzo "Can confirm it is definitely 9 inches" You both laughed as your friends look at you confused.

"Who-" Draco questioned before gasps came from them all as Theo walked downstairs, covered in scratch marks, bites and hickies as he stood behind you ruffling his hair in just his trackies.

"Oh my god" Pansy gawked.

If you enjoyed this fic and want to buy me a coffee, you can do so here!

[reidmotif]

Check Your Window (He's At Your Window)

Summary: Reader discovers her window faces into the apartment of her very attractive building neighbor, Spencer. She's willing to do anything for his attention. He's willing to reward her for her efforts.

Couple: Spencer Reid/Fem!Reader

Category: Smut

Content Warning: voyeurism, lingerie, masturbation, slight dubcon (but for like 5 seconds i swear), nipple play, penetrative sex, apartment break-in.

Word Count: 3.9 k

Masterlist

It’s natural to believe you’re safe in your place of residency. You’re given locks, blinds, a security gate- all measures designed to invoke a false illusion of privacy. Of course, there are defects that no one can plan for that have the ability to shatter this illusion. 

Mine happened to be a badly placed window. 

Finding this apartment felt akin to love at first sight. It sounds dramatic, but I’m serious. Do you know how horrific real estate is these days? But when my eyes came upon piano oak flooring, the soft light of the day streaming onto a marble island, and of course, an in-home washer/dryer system, I was sold. 

Due to my inherent awkwardness around meeting strangers,  and lack of overt charm, I’d never been one to initiate introductions with my neighbors. I moved in quietly, packing up my life into neat little boxes and dispersing them throughout the emptiness of my new space. It was only then, when I realized a strangely placed window that seemed to fall exactly where I’d wanted my bed to be. 

And while examining my outlandish situation, I saw him. 

I didn’t want to assume he’d been watching me. I wasn’t paranoid like that. Nevertheless, I didn’t want to give off the aura of, for lack of better words, a creep,  so the quick aversion of my eyes from his gaze felt instinctual. Curiosity won over me a millisecond later, though, and against my better judgment, I quietly peered into the window again, wondering if the man in the glass had slipped away, or had looked away from where our eyes met last. 

What I hadn’t anticipated, however, was to be met with the unflinching stare of his eyes, far from concerned with how he came off, holding his gaze with an almost disconcerting and defiant presence. 

He gave me a subtle nod, before walking away, disappearing from view. I was left feeling.. unsettled. But also strangely thrilled. There was a certain peculiarity in knowing you were susceptible to an audience at any given moment. I vaguely recalled social facilitation as a possible explanation as to why the concept roused me the way it did, but whatever it was, I didn’t feel compelled to attach curtains or any kind of barrier to avoid the phenomenon. 

While my thoughts occasionally drifted to the man, I didn’t actually know anything about him. He lived in the building beside mine, so we didn’t even share so much as a landlord. I truly never expected to gain any insight on him besides the location of his domicile in relation to mine, and the thought didn’t bother me by any means.  I was completely fine with letting our connection stay as severed as it was. 

Fate, on the other hand, had other ideas. 

I found myself a few weeks later, struggling with an overstuffed grocery bag in front of my building, and in a terrible game of mismanaged weight and the flimsiness of grocery-store plastic, my bag gave way, scattering the contents of it across the ground. Further misfortune plagued me, as the bag in question had been holding a good pound of lemons, that rolled quite far from where I’d been standing. I immediately dropped to the ground, trying to gather up the ones by my feet in my arms, and noticed a presence nearby doing the same and bringing the runaway citrus to me. I was thankful, and was ready to express my gratitude to the helpful samaritan, until I saw a flash of recognition collectively pass over our faces as we made eye contact. 

Him. The man in the window. 

“You dropped these.” He says, his voice a little quieter than I’d expected from him, and I nod. 

“Yeah, no. It’s these bags. Not really equipped to hold a pound of lemons.” I say, trying to gather the rest to my chest, our eyes still trained on the other. 

“Can I ask why a pound of lemons?” He asks, a sort of playful lilt in his voice. 

“Lemonade.” I say, almost immediately. 

There’s a bit of confusion that flashes over his face. “Are you making a joke?” He replies, furrowing his brows a bit. 

I realize that my response might’ve come off as too deadpan, and I shake my head to correct his misconception. “Oh, no. I’m serious.” I say, offering a grin.  “I love lemonade. There’s a work party I’m attending, and I offered to make some for the office. Hence, the lemons.” I continued, gesturing at the aforementioned fruit, and feeling myself ramble slightly, but it didn’t seem to offend the recipient. 

“That.. is a surprisingly normal response, given the situation.” The man says, nodding. “I love lemonade too.” He adds. 

There’s a bit of silence as we both picked up lemons together, the man more focused than I on the task. I took the oppurtuinity within the lull of our conversation to truly examine the man, finally no longer separated by a pane of glass, and my observations all seemed to point towards one glaringly obvious conclusion. 

The man in the window was hot.

He appeared older than me, yet his age did nothing to diminish the beauty of his features. His doe-like eyes seemed to shine with the same curiosity that I felt towards him. His hair was a bit longer than I’d expect from a man his age, but it suited him. The smooth slope of his nose had a certain charm to it, and his cheekbones were impossibly sharp. I wanted to run my thumb over the bone, and kiss him senseless until we could barely remember our own names. 

“I’m (Y/N). You’re free to come over.” I say, a little more rushed than I’d wanted to. “For the lemonade, of course.” I add, trying to not drop the ball when it came to inviting this gorgeous man over to my apartment. 

“Spencer.” He replies, offering his name to me. “I'll keep it in mind.” He says, smoothly. He flashes me a kind smile as he places the last of the lemons into my other bags or directly into my hands. 

I’d hoped “I’ll keep it in mind” meant “within the next few days or so” but waiting seemed futile after a certain amount of time had passed. He never came, and I even stopped seeing him as often through the window in passing. In hindsight, it was rather naive to genuinely expect a near-stranger to come to my apartment, on account of an invitation that could have been interpreted as a thinly-veiled proposition.

It felt a bit dull, his lack of interest. I’d had a taste of his attention, and for some reason, I was hooked. It was irrational, and illogical, but I couldn’t help the desire I felt simply at the thought of this man. And in a mixture of perversion, desperation and pure brainlessness, I tried to use the one thing that had rarely failed me in the past. Sex. 

I reasoned by telling myself it wasn’t like it was guaranteed he’d see me. 

And it wasn’t as if I was standing directly by the window, exposing myself for his pleasure, and his pleasure only. So hey, if he saw my figure adorned in lacy lingerie in passing, and felt compelled to act on that in any way he chose, well. No harm, no foul, right? 

So that’s exactly what I did. To my benefit, it was one of the hottest summers D.C had ever had, so the lack of clothing worked in my favor.  I’d always felt quite confident in my own skin, so lounging around in bras, panties, barely-there cover-ups around my apartment didn’t strike me as the oddest thing to do.  I felt comfortable, and in turn, possibly seducing the man in the window. Win-win. 

And “win” I did, in some way at least, because I noticed the arrival of lingerie correlated in a sudden uptick in the times I’d see Spencer taking a longer-than-normal glimpse into my apartment. It was fucking exhilirating, to have his regard in this strange, taboo way. I’d find myself imagining him, surrounded by a sea of sheets and pillows slowly stroking his cock to the images of my scantily-clad body. I had no real way of verifying if this was the actual case, but the fantasy was enough to bring heat to my cheeks and an ache in my panties. 

It started to drive me a little crazy, however, when after a week of this,  literally no tangible reward came from the fruits of my labor. While I’d enjoyed his eyes on my form, that seemed to be all he was capable of. He seemed completely at ease with just watching (to my utter dismay) and it seemed the action I wanted him to take was sorely out of reach. 

Reflecting on his shy, soft demeanor from the one time we’d spoken, I concluded that he might not be as forward as I am. It made sense; he never seemed to have visitors in his apartment and, seeming to be in his 40s without a stable partner, he probably wasn't accustomed to a woman's attention in this way. He didn’t exactly exude “womanizer” anyway from what I knew about him, and I began to connect his lack of initiative to these points.

 It didn't deter me from continuing my attempts though. At best, I was at least providing a lonely middle-aged man some sorely needed imagery in the meantime. I’d always been a giver, anyhow. 

It’s reasonable to assume there’d be some payoff down the road, right? 

Wrong. I continued to wear increasingly revealing lingerie, going as far as just walking around naked once in a while. Nothing. I was a fucking saint at this point for continuing this for him.

It didn’t help that my mind insisted on taunting me with what I couldn’t have, as a moment of spare time in my day would constantly be preoccupied with thoughts of him in my bed, pinning my hands down and kissing up and down my neck. I’d imagine him pounding into me, or bouncing up and down on his cock, bringing us both to the throes of pleasure. I couldn’t halt the depravity of my thoughts, no matter how hard I tried.

What I also couldn’t stop, was the slow descent of my fingers into my panties one night, finding a delectable mess within them, signifying my deep arousal associated with the man. It’d been a long few weeks,  the smell of summer and heat encasing my apartment, and a profound craving I couldn’t resist. I breathed out a sigh of relief as I began rubbing the small nub, alternating between up and down motions, and then a slow, circular rub. Little moans poured out my lips, before I quickly shed my panties entirely, watching a string of arousal stuck to them, kicking them haphazardly to the side, wanting more access to my clit. 

My eyes naturally closed as I found myself lazing towards the precipice of release. Soft sighs and moans filled my apartment as I let my fingers rub a bit more desperately. I could see flashes of him again behind my eyes, his hand on me, instead of my own,  mirroring the actions I was performing. A gasp of his name came tumbling out of me as the image became clearer and clear, my eyes opening almost frantically as I felt myself closer and closer. 

That’s when I got the strangest sensation, and felt a pair of eyes on me. I jolted my head to the left, and saw Spencer, who was clearly watching at this point. His gaze was entirely trained on me, and similar to the first time he saw me, our eye contact didn’t deter him from his observation. 

I refused to let it either, and kept my gaze trained on him. I was entirely exposed. I wouldn’t have been able to stop my actions if I’d had a gun to my head. It just felt too fucking good. A moment more of eye contact from him, and I felt the familiar clench and release from my body, waves of pleasure wracking my body. I let out another moan, but not once did my eyes leave his, as my back arched against my sheets, a silent plea on my part being conveyed.  

Come here. What could you possibly be waiting for? 

I watched him disappear from the window as I finished, both literally and figuratively, and panted, wondering if finally, finally, my prayers and fervent supplications would be answered. 

After about 30 minutes, my anticipation was replaced with severe disappointment when I realized even after then, he wasn’t coming. I could no longer see him in the window, and at this point it seemed a little silly and pathetic to continue expecting him to come. 

Maybe he was just entirely sexually inadept. That could be a possibility, right? How much more explicit could I get than this? I’d masturbated in front of him! Albeit, through a window, but masturbation regardless! Was this seriously all he was willing to do? 

I roll my eyes at the thought. I came to accept that maybe, truly, there was nothing I could do to get this man to fuck me the way I deserved. Fine.

As I closed my eyes to get some necessary rest after my endeavors, I made up my mind that I’d buy curtains tomorrow. Fuck Spencer Reid, and his absolute inability to take any action in his goddamn life. Fuck this apartment. Fuck everything. 

Was I dramatic? Yes. Was I still right? Also yes. 

Despite the sour mood I’d taken to bed with me that evening, my dreams were anything but. The idea of Spencer Reid holding me down, whispering sweet and dirty nothings alike were all still incredibly tantalizing to my subconscious. I could hear his voice in my ear, soft pink lips brushing against the shell of my ear, a deep pressure imprinted onto my body, keeping me in my bed. 

“Wake up, sweetheart.” He murmured, beckoning me out of the peaceful cocoon of sleep. 

I felt a few more wet and warm kisses trailing up and down my neck, the sweetest sensation of pleasure being granted to me with every touch he gave. 

“Need you to wake up, pretty girl.” He mumbles. “You really are so pretty up close.” His voice is slightly patronizing, and it does nothing to help the excitation that was steadily growing inside of me. 

Suddenly, I became incredibly aware that the stimuli I was receiving didn’t appear to be a byproduct of my psyche, but rather- he was here? My eyes opened slowly to realize I wasn’t at all mistaken, the soft brush of his brown hair against my neck slightly tickling me as I came to. 

“Atta girl.” He mumbles, his lips still mapping out every inch of my skin. Out of pure instinct, a slightly alarmed moan came from me, still unsure if I was dreaming or not. Surely I had to be dreaming. I had to be, because how the fuck did Spencer Reid get into my apartment? Into my bed? 

“You want this, yeah?” He murmurs, taking a second to gaze down at me. I realized he’d been on top of me this whole time, and the pressure I’d felt in my dream was his skin on mine, trapping me in between his strong chest and the soft sheets adorning my mattress. “I know you do. Saw your little show and everything.” He breathes out, desperately, almost. 

I know I should’ve thought about it. Perhaps I should’ve pondered on the idea of letting a man who’d just broken into my apartment full access to my body as he pleased, but there was no time. He was here, and how could I have ever said no to that? 

There’s an equally as desperate and breathy, “yes” that escapes my lips, and before I can finish saying the word, he dives down, meeting my lips with his, absolutely devouring me with no hesitation whatsoever.  If I'd thought his previous ministrations were delightful, this was absolutely heavenly. 

I moan softly into his mouth, wanting to tangle my hands in his hair, or latch them onto his shoulders and sink my nails deep into the skin that resided there- anything to show even a semblance of control in this situation, but it seemed Spencer had already thought of that, pinning my hands against the mattress so tightly, I couldn’t have moved if I’d exerted every last bit of strength into it. 

“God, the first time- first time I saw you.” He mumbles in between kisses. “With those lemons. I knew they’d fall. Saw you through the window across the street and practically ran. Wanted to meet you so badly.” 

A small whimper escapes me, and I can’t help but get wetter at the thought. I knew he’d been watching me through the window, but the idea that I captured his attention, outside of my apartment, in the most mundane of situations only served to heighten the arousal I felt, my thighs rubbing together for any kind of relief. 

He notices the movement and grins, planting one last kiss on my lips before slipping down. His hands cup the backs of my knees, forcing me to spread my previously shut legs. 

“You had the prettiest voice.” He breathes out, examining my glistening heat. “Fuck. Couldn’t stop thinking about how you’d sound, screaming my name.” He leans forward, planting a chaste kiss on my clit that caused an incredibly breathtaking jolt through my body. 

“Spencer-” I moan, my head rolling back as I felt it, my back arching slightly. 

“Yeah, just like that.” He mumbles, clearly pleased. “Good girl.” 

His hands traveled upward from where he’d been situated between my legs and squeezed my breast blindly. It didn’t feel like it was for my pleasure, but rather that he was desperate to touch anywhere he possibly could. Anyone else, and I might’ve been annoyed with the incessant touching, but with him? 

 It was so fucking hot. 

“That goddamned lingerie.” He mumbles. “The things I wanted to do to you. Did you know that?” 

I looked at him through hooded lids, unsure what he meant, and he took my diversion of attention to quickly tweak one of my nipples, eliciting another surprised moan from my mouth. 

“I’m so much stronger than this, usually.” His large hands continue to squeeze and grope at my breasts. “But you.” He whispers, a hint of a growl making its way into his tone. “Had to push the limits. Practically begging me to come here and take you.” 

I let out a gasp as I felt his hands trail down my stomach, the cool touch of his fingertips causing the muscles to tense up there. 

“I’m gonna do it.” He whispers, his face only illuminated by the moonlight streaming through the open window, but I could still see the dangerous glint in his eye, thrilling me even further. “Fuck you exactly how you want it.” 

Before I’m able to react to the sentiment, he’s grabbing onto my hips and turning me over, a yelp drawn out from me. 

“Hands and knees.” He says, in an authoritative tone that doesn’t leave any room for any disagreement. I comply quickly, much to his elation. 

“You’re so good for me, yeah? Gonna ruin you. Just how you want.” 

There’s a hint in condescension in his tone, like he’s making fun of me for wanting to be fucked this badly, but I can barely pay any mind about it, especially when I feel his cock slotting itself betweet my folds, separated only by his boxers, a shaky moan coming from Spencer. 

I can feel his hands leaving my hips and the slight lean away as he quickly shucks off the fabric, and within the next second, he’s pushing into me, providing me with a stretch and fulfillment that was so much better than I could’ve ever imagined. It doesn’t take him long to set a fast pace, the sound of our skin slapping and the smell of sex permeating the room. 

“Fuck, you feel so good.” He moans out, and I let out similar noises in tandem. 

I can barely find it in me to stay coherent. I want to scream how good he feels, how big his cock feels in me, how close I was- but instead the only thing I could manage was the borderline scream of his name and loud sobs of pleasure, fully at the mercy of the man behind me. I can feel the way I clamp down on him, absolutely imploring him for as much as he could give me. 

“Gonna come for me, yeah?” He says, feeling the clench of my walls on his cock.  “Come on, pretty girl. Give me what I want.” He murmurs lowly, leaning down closer to my ear. His hand shoots out a moment later, beginning to rub my clit, similar to how I had been doing a few hours earlier as he watched me, and the memory and sensation of it is enough to hurl me off the edge, my walls tightening around his cock as waves of pleasure wracked through my body.

It seemed that was enough for him as well. I felt his hips still, and a sudden warmth at my deepest point. He let out a groan of relief as he thrusted once, twice more, and then pulled out, his cum slipping down my thighs as he plopped down next to me. I’d already collapsed the second he pulled out, panting as I came down from the orgasm. 

“You good?” He mumbles, wearily, and I can feel him moving aside my hair to kiss at my shoulder. 

“Mhm.” I murmur back, a small sigh of relief escaping me. There’s a beat of silence, before he breaks it.

“Tomorrow.” He murmurs. “Wanna go out with me?” 

I raise an eyebrow, turning at him with a playful expression- as playful as I could get in this state anyway. “Where to?” 

“Target.” He mumbles, still stroking my back lazily, his eyes shining with something less intense than lust now, but still enough to turn my stomach over with butterflies.

“Target?” I say, squinting my eyes. “Why Target?” 

“We’re buying you some curtains.” He says, a small grin appearing on his face. “And maybe a stronger lock.” 

I giggle at that, rolling my eyes a bit.  “But then you don’t get to see me anymore. I kind of liked what we had going on.” 

“I did too.” He whispers, his tone slightly vulnerable now. “But I like this a lot more.” 

A small smile plasters itself to my face as I nod.

 “Me too.” I whisper back, biting my lip. 

A mutual understanding passed through the both of us as we smiled at each other in the dark, and for a split second, I imagined myself possibly loving this more someday. 

All in good time. Right now, I was going to sleep, protected by his soft, strong arms. That was enough for now. We’d finally gotten what we wanted. 

woah!! trying to finally get back into writing semi regularly i see. i hope this was enjoyable. this is one of those pieces i'm kind of unsure about, so please, please interact if you liked it! likes, comments, reblogs, anything! or let me know if you didn't! i live for feedback of any kind. thank you for reading anyhow, i am very grateful for it <3

also lol if it wasn’t obvious i listened to “she” for fic inspo lol. linked below

[incognit0slut]

Hi author, can you write one where soft Dom Spencer (our beloved) is needy after work and tries to distract reader while she's cooking?

Heat of the Moment

warnings/notes: I’m gonna be honest with you, I don’t have the energy to write smut but I will write the build-up scene to it. So suggestive content (MDNI) with a sprinkle of fluff and a whole lot of Spencer being horny. (This is also very self-indulgent because I fucking love mac and cheese, and if any of you hate cheese in general, I’m afraid we can’t be friends)

Cooking isn’t exactly your best skill. Just follow the recipe, they say, and you do, although following step-by-step instructions isn’t the same as having a natural knack for it. No matter how closely you measure the spices or time in the oven, something always seems a bit off. A little bit overcooked. A little bit burnt. But Spencer, bless your boyfriend’s heart, never complains.

“What smells so good?”

You look over your shoulder to see him strolling into the kitchen, still in his work clothes. Loose dress pants, rolled-up sleeves, top buttons undone. The tie you help him put on this morning is missing.

“You don’t always have to do that, you know?” You say as you turn back toward the stove. You stir the creamy, slightly lumpy mac and cheese, the thick sauce clinging to the pasta in a way that looks almost perfect, if not for the slightly scorched edges.

“Do what?”

“Pretend it’s amazing,” you reply with a sigh. “I know it’s not.”

You feel his presence behind you. “I’m not pretending.”

“You haven’t even tasted it yet.”

He peers over your shoulder. “I don’t need to. I trust you.”

“You trust me too much.”

“Just as much as you do,” he explains, placing his hands on your waist. “You trust me too, don’t you?”

“Trusting you to carry a gun isn’t the same as trusting your taste buds,” you reply, slightly leaning into him. Your back lands perfectly against his chest. “One requires skill, the other… a strong stomach.”

He gives your waist a gentle squeeze as his laughter fills the small space between you. You like his laugh, it’s warm and infectious. It makes you smile even though you’re feeling a bit self-conscious about your cooking.

“Well, I’ve survived both so far. So I think I’m doing pretty well.”

You stare at the pot, watching the mac and cheese bubble slightly. “What do you think the chances are of us getting food poisoning from this?”

Spencer gently pulls your hair out of the way, his fingers lightly brushing against your neck. He leans in and presses a soft kiss. “I’d say the chances are low,” he murmurs. “You're always too hard on yourself.”

You laugh softly, leaning back into him. “Maybe, but I just don’t want to mess this up.”

His hands start to wander, tracing gentle patterns on your waist before sliding around to your stomach. “You won’t mess it up,” he assures you. He lets his lips trail down your neck. “And even if you did, I wouldn’t mind.”

You feel a rush of warmth that has nothing to do with the stove. “Really?”

“It’s already good because you made it.”

You can feel his body pressing closer, his warmth enveloping as he lingers on the sensitive spot just below your ear. “Spencer, are you trying to distract me?”

You can practically feel the smile on your skin. He shakes his head, the slight roughness of his stubble brushing against your neck as he murmurs, “Not distracting, just appreciating.”

His denial is playful, his tone light, but his actions tell a different story. His hands continue their exploration, now slipping underneath your shirt. His palm is warm and slightly rough as it makes contact with your skin. He traces gentle patterns along your stomach, moving so slowly and as if he’s savoring every inch.

You feel your pulse quicken, each beat echoing in your ears. “Baby…”

“Hm?” he hums, and your breath catches when his thumb brushes just below your breasts.

“If you keep this up, there might not be any food for dinner.”

“Is that such a bad thing?”

You try to focus on the pot, where the sauce has begun to form a thicker layer at the bottom, slightly burned and sticking. But his touch makes it difficult to concentrate. "Unless you plan to feed us on kisses alone, I think we might need something more substantial too."

Spencer laughs softly, a low rumble of amusement that you can feel as much as hear. "I don’t know, kisses for dinner sounds pretty tempting."

"I’m afraid it won’t satisfy our hunger."

"I think it’ll satisfy mine just fine."

“Oh my god,” you gasp, catching on to the deeper meaning in his words. You tighten your grip on the wooden spoon as you resume your stirring. “Stop distracting me.”

If anything, he clings to you even more. He rests his chin on your shoulder as his hands travel down your stomach again, only this time, they linger at the hem of your shorts. His fingers play with the fabric, teasingly tugging at it.

“Spencer.”

“What?”

And then you feel it, the unmistakable pressure of his arousal pressing against your back. It’s a firm, urgent presence, a hard line that aligns tightly against your own curves. The hardness of it distracts you even further.

“You’re making it really hard to cook,” you murmur, trying to sound stern but the breathiness in your voice betrays your growing distraction.

He slips a hand inside the waistband of your shorts while the other trace along your stomach. “I think we should forget about cooking for a while.”

“You know we can’t do that,” you try to argue, even as your hips instinctively follow his touch. “We need to eat.”

“But we could be doing other things,” Spencer whispers, nipping gently at your earlobe. His teeth graze your skin lightly before his lips close around it, tugging softly. The sigh you let out is shaky and breathless. The idea is tempting, dangerously so. The persistent heat from his hand, now tracing idle circles on your underwear, isn’t helping your focus.

“Aren’t you—” your grip on the wooden spoon loosens when he slips a finger over the waistband. “Aren’t you the one who… always says how our bodies need… what was it again?”

Spencer nods. “The human body need about 2,000 calories a day to function properly. But,” he continues, slipping another finger in. “We also need affection and touch for our emotional well-being.”

You swallow hard. “What else do we need?”

“Pleasure. Lots of it.”

You don’t know whether you should be laughing or not. His boldness is both shocking and strangely amusing. Spencer isn't the type to be straightforward when it comes to sex, but when he is, it's always intense. He's clingy, he craves attention, and even when his cheeks flush with embarrassment, it doesn't stop him. It hasn't stopped him in the past, and it's not stopping him now.

Your mind scatters as he starts pressing himself harder, slightly grinding behind you. And when he adds another finger in, then followed by another until all of his five fingers dive into your underwear, you know you’re already too far gone. You let go of your grip on the wooden spoon before it clatters inside the pot, reaching down to hold his arm to stop him.

“Fine. Fine. You win.” You breathe out heavily as you gently pull his hand out. “We should at least turn off the stove first.”

He grins, pulling away to turn off the burner. “There. Now, where were we?”

You finally turn to face him, your hands finding their way to his shirt. You grip onto the material. “I think you were about to prove a point about pleasure.”

His response is a soft laugh before his lips meet yours. He’s gentle when he touches you. He always is. His hands slides around your waist, pulling you closer until there’s no space left between your bodies. You let your hand trail over his chest, up, up, up, until your fingers find the soft curls of his hair.

When he finally pulls away, he's smiling from ear to ear. "I think that's proof enough, don't you?"

You smile back, breathless and flushed. "Maybe," you reply, your fingers gently tugging at his hair. "But I might need a bit more convincing."

His grin widens, and he leans in again, his lips brushing against yours as he whispers, "I can do that."

You can feel his hands tightening around your waist as he begins to kiss you again, deeper this time. It's all teeth and tongue, raw and hungry. The forgotten dinner on the stove barely registers in your mind. But with his hands and lips distracting you, you find it hard to worry about anything else.

[i99zhuo]

A routine inspired by thewizardliz ? She has skin care hair care routine reads motivating books

How to live like thewizardliz 🧚🏼‍♀️🪄⁺˚⋆｡°✩₊ quit your lazy girl era!

This is a guide on daily routines inspired by Thewizardliz! This routine is perfect to stop being lazy and pathetic and finally start taking care of yourself!

content list (routines):

morning

study

workout

shower + self care

night

(_ _ ) . . z Z⋆ ˚｡⋆୨୧˚୨ :★: ୧ ∗  ˖࣪ ໒꒱  ˚₊·

✸ ꒰ morning routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🧼 First things first, after you wake up make sure to drink water to boost your metabolism throughout the day! Also, create a mind movie so you can watch it everyday after you wake up.

Now, take your journal and start writing about your dream, ideal higher self, ask yourself questions like ‘What reality do i want to create?´ 'Who do i look up to?’ ‘What is the behavior I need to change about myself?’ ‘What's a new habit that I would like to create?’ ‘What is a thing I can focus on right now?’. After we have in mind who we want to become, it's important that every little decision you make today is centered to achieve your goals, and become your dream self. You can listen to a podcast while doing this so you get motivation!

💶 Then, head to the bathroom and look at yourself in the mirror and start repeating positive affirmations, such as ‘I am so beautiful’ or ‘My hair looks so pretty today’, even if you don't believe it, having a positive mindset is going to help us to stay in track with our goals!

Take care of your teeth, Liz says that our smile is one of the most important things in a person, and one of the key things that is going to make you more attractive! so, make sure to brush your teeth, floss, clean your tongue, etc.

🛣 Liz has a rather simple skincare routine, since her skin is so sensitive, it only consists of using a foam cleanser, moisturizer and eye cream to help with her eye bags.

Next step is to research and find our own personal clothing and makeup style, find out your body type, personal color, face shape, etc. It doesn't matter if you have to mix multiple styles that already exist to make your own! The most important thing is to feel comfortable while wearing those clothes or having that type of makeup on your face.

🏔 Liz doesn't like to force herself to have breakfast, she just dont eat if she's not hungry, however if you are hungry rather than focusing on calories focus on how nutritious your meal is. Whatsoever if you are not hungry and you are not going to eat, make sure to always take your vitamins and supplements!

✸ ꒰ study routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

Yes, it's time to drink a little more water!

⛰ Liz doesn't have a settled study routine but, it's important to spend our time wisely, if you can finish an assignment way before the time it's due, DO IT! Also, she emphasized that knowledge leads to confidence. If you put effort in your studies, every little thing in your life will slowly fall into place.

✸ ꒰ workout routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

First, set healthy goals, like toning up your body or building muscle, try not to make ‘just being skinny’ your goal.

🧩 second, don't measure yourself with a scale or measuring tape and focus on how you look in the mirror, are you satisfied? if you are then you are done with the intense workout routine!

Liz goes to the gym and has her own personal training program, but here’s some kind of exercises she recommends; weight training, pilates and dancing with her main focus being toning up her abs and butt.

🏄‍♀️ Remember to drink water and that consistency is more important than perfection, go at your own pace, it doesn't matter if you can't do a 2 hour workout and look snatched in 3 days and you can only do a 5 minute workout, every little effort adds up!

✸ ꒰ shower and self care routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

Before showering, do dry brushing to exfoliate your skin and increase circulation (1-2 times per week). Then use shampoo and conditioner, research to find the best one for you, what may help others won't help you. Liz also uses a hair mask 1 to 2 times per week to get that shiny silk hair.

🎾 After showering take some time to shape and pluck your eyebrows depending on your face shape and what impression you want to give! 

Liz uses face masks 1 to 2 times per week to cleansing her face deeply, then she does her skincare. After applying all the products do a lymphatic massage on your face and neck, you can also cool down your face with massagers or cold spoons for an extra depuff.

🍾 For self care, you can journal again, search for shadow work prompts, think of what things you should unlearn and relearn and don't forget to practice gratitude. Or you can take time to clean your room or house, you deserve to have a clean safe place! 

Oh! and don't forget to drink water again.

✸ ꒰ night routine ꒱⋆ ࣪.* ࣪.⋆

🧃 Time for dinner! (only if you are not full yet), again, make sure to focus on nutrients rather than calories. Don't forget to drink a glass of water with your dinner. You can watch a documentary while eating to keep gaining even more knowledge.

Now, do your oral hygiene routine again. Also, put on eyelash conditioner and serum to wake up with perfect lashes! Then wear a silk cap or do a protective hairstyle to protect your hair from getting damaged while you're sleeping.

🍵 Then get in bed and drink a cup of tea with collagen to start relaxing your body. and it's finally time to manifest! watch your mind movie again and use your most useful method (affirming visualizing, subliminals, etc.), don't forget to ask god, the universe or whatever you believe in for signals and help!

Afterwards, you can read an inspirational book like ‘atomic habits’ or ‘the art of thinking clearly’ to keep nourishing your brain. keep a reachable goal like reading 5 pages everyday and then decide if you want to continue reading or not.

🥬 Before sleeping listen to a guided meditation, liz have one to be more confident and one to attract money, choose one that aligns with your goals!

Finally fall asleep in a healthy sleeping position, Liz sleeps in her back looking at the roof, but you can choose your favorite position, don't forget to get a pillow that fits the position (example: tall and lofty pillow -> for sleeping on your side)

🍈 Good night!

Woah second request done!! hope you liked this one was pretty fun to do and I might add some of these things in my own personal routine so I don't fall back into laziness, anyways how about you guys??

toodlezzzz!1!!!!!

[b1rds3ye]

hi!! this is my first time doing a request so idk if I'm doing this right haha but uh, I was wondering if you could do like. yknow the masked one you made for the 141 (I can't remember the name rn💔)? I thought of like, a sequel idea. like, what if during combat an enemy manages to take reader's mask, and so reader panics and like, rips the enemies throat out with their teeth (or if that's too violent, just goes basically rabid on them lmao) and how they would react?? if this is too violent or specific dw you don't have to!! anyways, I love your content it's totally awesome ur writing is amazing! have a good day!!

YES I LOVE THE BADASSERY AND THE UNHINGEDNESS!! If I'm your first request I'm so flattered anon pls do feel free to drop by again <333 Also just going to do general rabidness because ngl the throat thing sounds like an infection speedrun and we want our masked reader to stay nice and healthy <333

Word Count: 1.2 (it got a little long WHOOPS)

Warning: Canon typical violence, reader does get a lil sadistic and unhinged <333

Beyond Task Force 141 and Laswell, many - if not all - allied soldiers wondered about what lay under your mask. Obscuring even the eyes, your visage was more unreadable than Ghost's. Larger than life, a soldier among men.

There was a running joke that there was just nothing under your mask, perhaps an eldritch horror of sorts. You let the new recruits entertain the thought, it kept morale up as they conjured more myths of you. They said that no one has seen you without your mask. They were partially right.

It simply was that no one lived to tell the tale.

You were never one for close combat, but fighting terrorists was never smooth sailing. The chaos of battle had all of the 141 separated against the tight streets of Las Almas. How uncanny that you could not see your allies but hear their gunfire. Running out of ammo, you couldn't lament at your misfortune as a shoulder pummeling into your chest, sending you to the ground and the air out of your lungs. Head bashing against the floor you groaned as you furiously clawed up to whatever heavy weight was crushing your body. You were starting to make up the figure of a man hovering over you through the blurry haze of a concussion that filled your sight. The distant static of Price's voice through the radio, probably asking where the hell were you but you had more pressing issues at hand.

Through your struggle and flailing limbs you managed to wring the enemy's pistol off of them with a painful twist of their wrist. And they retaliated tenfold, a large sweaty hand reaching down and pressing your head back against the ground. Your adrenaline makes you writhe further, he was going to suffocate you, or worse, poison you with how fucking awful his hand smelt as the stink of burning gunpowder replaced any of your oxygen. But no, he committed a far worse crime.

A singular pull and the grating tear of fabric as your mask is pulled off of your face.

A heavy moment where your enemy looks down at you and his gaze is not like before. It's clear, it's deep. It is not looking at your facade but at you and you are no longer a soldier. You are merely a human, so fragile, so weak. One that is on the verge of death in a foreign land surrounded by bodies of fallen comrades and enemies alike. One whose mythos is all but lost at the victorious and leering smirk of an enemy as they take in your face.

That simply won't do.

Pulling your knee up to create space between you and the man, you pull out your tactical knife from your waist and drive it into his torso. His smile falls only to land at settle on yours below him, just like his blood that trickles as forbidden crimson down your hands and seeps into your uniform. It's disgustingly warm. He grows heavier as he loses all control over his body and you heave to throw his figure off to the side. You stab him once again for good measure. And then again. And again. Quick, short jabs down with a sharpened blade that cuts through uniform, flesh and bone alike. You did not count how many times you drove your blade down, numbers were too complex when your mind was running faster than any comprehensible speed. There was only one goal. To make sure no one knows what happened.

A harsh grip on the shoulder yanks you back up and you swipe with your armed limb to cut your new assailant's neck but they were onto you. Catching your arm, they pull it up as they hold onto your shoulder once again with a tightening grip that digs into your uniform. But they do nothing more, no matter how much you thrash and kick.

"Wake up, Sergeant," your opponent seethes and that voice makes you still, a buoy that floats across through your rage. Deep and grounding and your captain's.

You nearly stumble back but Price catches you before you crumple to the ground in exhaustion. The adrenaline was escaping your body leaving you with barely the energy to stay upright. Your head lolls back for a second before you bring it to the side to look at your direct superior, the remnants of a concussion making your vision blurry.

"You broken?" he asks.

"Negative, sir,” you respond immediately but he looks a little doubtful, a singular eyebrow raised as he inspects you. Not your body, but your face. The dilated pupils and the taut muscles told more than any wound.

"Can't say the same about your wee friend over there," Soap whistles as he tilts his head to behind you. “Christ, you did a number on him.”

You dare turn to look over your shoulder but Ghost already situated himself in front of the body. But between his feet you could already make out the indistinguishable mass of tattered fabric and discoloured flesh. Fresh blood filled the rivets between the cobblestones, the remnants of the body inching its way closer to you-

"Was it the mask?" Simon brings your attention back to him. You nod dumbly. He only dips his head in what you can only describe as understanding as he folds his arms, fortifying his stance in front of the mess you made. You weren’t going to see your handiwork, he was too kind to ever let you.

John drops his hands down to his sides as Gaz approaches you with your mask.

"Remind me to never get on your bad side," Kyle offers you a sympathetic smile.

"Learnt that the first day I saw 'em on duty," Johnny retorts and you instinctively smile as you take your mask from Kyle. The hardened plaster of your mask had cracked, the fabric that hugged your neck had become torn but it'll do for the remainder of the mission. Slipping the mask back on, Simon offers a nod of approval while Johnny tugged at the fabric for a few finishing touches.

Ultimately the mission was successful. The task force returns to base and although none of the boys mentioned the carnage you left, there are still whispers of it on base. You had hurried to debrief and get your mask fixed but it seemed some privates caught sight of you and that was enough to spark rumours. Your mask had gotten so fractured that a shard was left back in the streets of Las Almas and revealed one of your eyes to the rest of the world. Such a small organ but so vivid. The privates saw, and more was added to the myth that was you. There was now no question about what was under the mask. No lovecraftian horror or empty space, no monster beyond comprehension. No, what was under your mask was terrifyingly human.

Masked Reader Masterlist Call of Duty Masterlist

[purplephloxpress]

Another year, another Fanfiction Writers Appreciation Day!!!! If you are a writer of fanfic, please know just how appreciated you are!! Fandom would be such a different space without your creativity and labors of love. 💜

Holidays are all about making traditions, and the bookbinding friends with @renegadeguild once again came together to bind copies of fics for their authors as a show of our appreciation. This year I had the absolute joy of binding Emergency Help Wanted by the wonderful @piyo-13 and even got to collaborate with her on some of the design elements! It's a Modern AU Jiang Cheng/Lan Xichen fic that starts with a "help wanted" ad.

EMERGENCY HELP WANTED

I lied when I got my job. I told them I had a kid so I could leave early from work to pick him up from daycare, take him to doctor's appointments, and occasionally miss a day when he's sick. Long story short, I'm in too deep. I didn't think it through. Looking to rent a kid for bring your child to work day. Must be a boy ages four to six, longish dark hair, likes soccer. Must also be artistic as the macaroni noodle paintings I made seem a little advanced for his age. Also, I will pay extra for someone willing to play the role of husband when dropping him off. He's a prosecuting attorney who often brings his work home. Message me for further details. Serious inquiries only.

Ok. So. I may have gone a little feral with this one. Online "help wanted" ad spiraled into loading wheel scene dividers, spiraled into fake Google search result headers, spiraled into FULLY committing to those authentic looking text messages. In full color. (There are so many. I typeset in MS Word. It was SO worth it, but god what a struggle at some points.) And don't forget the "recent searches" title page! Or the computer cutout on the cover! (It's bluescreening, just like Lan Xichen through this entire fic!) Also that cover/title page image that I just kept adding details to. (It's supposed to be Lan Xichen's desk, so it simply didn't feel right until it had sticky notes on the computer, #1 dad on the mug, scissors and measuring tape, scribbles on the sticky notes) Did I have a ton of fun designing this one? Perhaps. Couldn't say. Maybe just a tad. (This is a lie I had an ABSOLUTE BLAST!)

Historically, I've waited until I finish at least the typeset before reaching out to the author, but not so with this one! I got the idea for the fake google search results from Piyo's authors notes, teasing the contents of the next chapter. But! Those didn't start until about chapter 4! So I reached out and asked if we could collaborate and I'm forever glad I did! Not only does this have teasers for each chapter, I also got to bounce design ideas off of her, including what shade of blue and purple for the text messages. Because my friends, that is a serious matter and changed SEVERAL times throughout the process.

Also shoutout to all my Renegade friends who gave input and encouragement over the past year while I worked on this (what endpages to use? how to make this shade of green perfectly Nie Huaisang? how do we feel about this text message design? or how about this one?) - I love you all dearly and appreciate you so much for putting up with my nonsense at all times.

Binding details below the cut!

Fandom: The Untamed/Mo Dao Zu Shi

Pairing: Jiang Cheng | Jiang Wanyin / Lan Huan | Lan Xichen

Bookcloth: Aqua/Purple Dubletta from Colophon Book Arts

Endpapers: Craft Consortium Ink Drops - Ocean pack

Textblock paper: short grain cream from Church Paper

Titling: We R Memory Keepers foil quill

Endbands: leather cording core, DMC embroidery floss for the bands

Body Font: EB Garamond

Title Font: Berlin Sans FB

Text Messages: Roboto

Additional fonts: Times New Roman, Kunstler Script, Magis Authentic

Title page image from Rawpixel and designed in Canva

Various computer graphics from The Noun Project

Tumblr insists on eating and doubling text in this section at its own whim, so if there's something missing that you're curious about, feel free to DM me an ask!

[dokries]

forever

pairing: kwon soonyoung (hoshi) x gender neutral reader

genre: fluff, established relationship

word count: 851

warnings: pet names, talks of marriage (in the future!), they go to ikea and hoshi acts like a house husband

author note: OMG i actually love this hoshi so much i’m not even joking thank you eishi for requesting this!! lots of love <33

masterlist

“would you like a cup of tea, perhaps?” soonyoung holds out the teapot that was previously on display with an exaggerated bow, his eyes betraying his humour.

you sigh before giggling, taking the pot and placing it back on the counter for safe measure—you’re only at ikea to window-shop, and the two of you definitely can’t afford to pay for any accidents. “maybe we shouldn’t pick that up, okay sweetie?”

when your boyfriend pouts, you guide him to sit the bar stool by the kitchen island set up beside you. “anyway, isn’t the goal of us being here pretending to have our own house? maybe we should go somewhere else, and not just stay in the kitchen showroom.”

soonyoung immediately shakes his head, pulling you down onto the stool beside him. “no way. you said you liked this one, so we’re staying here.”

“well, i do like the light fixtures…” you sigh contently, leaning into his arm—he giggles and puts his head on top of yours—instead of trying to convince him to move to another space.

besides, you had walked around the entire ikea at this point, and it’s probably a good idea to take a small break before leaving to go home and finally rest after your boyfriend dragging you everywhere he could.

after a few minutes of peace, your boyfriend decides to get up unexpectedly, and he grabs a towel to hang over his shoulder before he walks over to the sink, pretending to turn it on by imitating the sound of water falling.

he whistles before looking over his shoulder at you, as if he didn’t notice you’re at the counter. “oh, hey! how was work, sweetie?”

you raise an eyebrow, putting your elbows on the counter in front of you to stare at him. “it was alright…? kwon soonyoung, what are you doing right now?”

“what do you mean? i’m just being a good husband!” he grins, happily pretending to rinse dishes, and you blush slightly before smiling at his sound effects.

you look around to see if anyone might be judging the two of you for pretending to be married but surprisingly, there’s no people strolling around this specific part of the store. the lack of crowd actually makes this feel as if you actually have just gotten home from a busy day at work, and your boyfriend—well, husband in this case, is washing up after cooking dinner or something.

in the meantime, soonyoung slows down, realizing the same thing as you. it’s like you have your own home, and he thinks that maybe…it’s not so bad.

you move towards him, making your way around the island and wrap your arms around his waist from behind, placing your chin on his shoulder before he can even comprehend what’s happening. once he does though, he almost melts in your embrace, putting his hands on top of yours on his stomach.

“so, soonie…” you start, and he can feel your grin with the way your head tilts to look at his cheek. “is it time for dessert yet?”

he giggles, sliding his hands up and down your arms before sighing happily. he turns to look at your face and freezes, realizing that this scene…could be real. he knows you’re only playing along with this act of being married but now the gears are turning in his head, and his eyebrows scrunch up in concentration.

though he doesn’t know it, your mind wanders to the same topic you two have talked about fondly: eventually settling down, if the both of you agree on it in the future.

it’s not like your relationship is completely new anyway, and marriage has been in the back of his mind for a while now. besides, soonyoung’s made it very clear that he’s serious about you…at least, he hopes he has because it’s true; he would go on a million ikea weekend dates if you were by his side.

“soonyoung, you alright?” he blinks when you call his name, and shakes his head.

“i’m fine!” your boyfriend smiles at you but you can tell he’s thinking about something, and you shrug. he’ll tell you eventually if he wants to, so there’s no need to be concerned—he can’t keep a secret for the life of him.

you move away from him to make sure that all the showroom pieces are in the right place, and he stands there to watch you, realizing this fantasy will be…well, just that when the two of you leave.

soonyoung pouts, crossing his arms. “babe, can’t we stay here forever?”

you turn back to look at your boyfriend and smile softly, walking over to grab his hand and almost push him towards the exit when he won’t move.

“well…we can’t stay here forever but…” you pause to place a kiss on his cheek. “maybe we could stay together forever, if you’d like?”

and as soonyoung nods excitedly and kisses you on the nose gently with a giggle, he knows that he’ll make sure that the forever he’s now thinking about comes as soon as possible—even with the horrible housing rates.

home. (follow up fic!)

[endless-ineffabilities]

dragonfire

Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

masterlist ▪︎ word count: <1k

The one in which Aemond Targaryen ponders over an existence without you. (i.e. a little something caused by my recently resurgent Aemond brainrot)

"So, what are you planning to do?"

Daeron's question hangs in the air. For a moment, Aemond fails to grasp the subject of his inquiry. But his mind, as it always does, goes back to you.

Having returned from visiting you in the library, Daeron found him smiling to himself in the godswood, like some pathetic, lovestruck youth.

"I am not sure what you mean." Aemond turns, regarding his younger brother with a lingering look.

"Will you ever confess to her how you feel?"

Has he become that easy to read? How he feels. Has he even admitted that truth to himself? He casts his gaze downward, kicking over a pebble with the sole of his boot. "It has not crossed my mind," he says. A lie, plain as day.

Daeron tries another approach, knowing how difficult it is to elicit the best reaction from his stoic brother. "Well, look about the matter in this way - what would your life be like without her in it? What if you never knew her at all?"

Aemond scowls in distaste. He is not too inclined to be analysed in such a way. But his thoughts have been influenced by Daeron's questioning. What would everything be like without you?

He would still be Prince Aemond Targaryen. He would still possess his royal devotion and sense of duty.

But without you?

"It would not be right," Aemond confesses. "It would be a plain cruelty to myself were I to entertain the thought. I suppose I would go on, as I am, but I have no desire to."

Days without your companionship, and nights without the thought of you intertwined with him in his chambers? How dull it would all be.

"She's like... like my dragonfire. My strength. Only she can ever have any true power over me."

Only you would be permitted to. The influence of his family, and of his status - they stand no chance. If you asked him to renounce his titles, and to sail together on a ship to Yi Ti, Aemond knows he would do so. For you.

And it terrifies him. He was raised to be methodical. To not be rash in his decisions. He has always upheld his family and his personal ambition above all else. But what terrifies him even more is the possibility that you would not be so receptive of his affections. And that, one day, duty would demand him be wed to another Lady who isn't you.

So he is resolute is not letting that happen.

"I would be the most content man in all of the Seven Kingdoms if I could live out my days with her as my Lady wife." The sentiment flows out of him as naturally as taking a breath. "If she will have me," he adds, softly.

Daeron smiles in agreement, before offering the simplest course of action. "So take her to be your wife. There is no doubt in my mind that she will have you."

"It is not that easy."

"What if some other Lord will ask for her hand - "

"Then I will take pleasure in feeding Vhagar her next meal."

Daeron simply laughs, patting Aemond on the shoulder. "Take heart, brother. No Lord can surpass you."

"Hmm." Of course not.

"I shall take my leave," Daeron says. "Oh, and if you change your mind about her, I would not be averse to asking for her hand, myself."

Aemond stiffens, glowering at Daeron with a storm brewing in his eye. For a split second, he considers having to duel his brother, if it would come to that. Felling him, if need be. For you.

His own kin. He has done it before, after all. And this time, it would be for the greatest of causes - the battle for your heart.

"Gods," Daeron bursts in a fit of laughter. "Aemond, I only jest. We do not need any more infighting in our family than we already have."

Aemond exhales in relief as his brother departs, leaving him with the realization that he would actually resort to such extreme measures in order to be with you.

Seven hells, he is well and truly fucked.

[mavcancees]

how to adapt into dtblr culture for twitter refugees

so you've decided to move here from twitter. welcome and congratulations. this post is basically a big warning that goes THIS ISN'T TWITTER, DON'T BEHAVE LIKE IT IS, LEAVE THAT AT THE DOOR

i'll be teaching you two things, how the site works, and how to adapt your behavior to tumblr ( and really, normal human being ) culture. believe me, it's not that hard and it will actually feel very productive

let's start with the basics and frequent questions

your username can be anything, don't stress about it

your picture can be anything. a lot of us don't even have dteam related stuff up on our profile

your display name doesn't have to be your name. nobody is going to see it when you post, only usernames are visible

check your settings. do it. get familiar with them. turning on and off asks, turning anon off, turning submissions off. click on your blog, go to blog settings, check things there, go to account, your muted things will be there, go to dashboard and customize that. use your settings !!!

yes, pinned posts are fairly important and they tend to be pretty extensive. name age what you post about ( a lot of people here are multifandom !), just don't overshare ( no locations no trigger lists i beg you ). they also usually have a breakdown of your tags at the end

tags

it's a whole thing. some are actually useful. some are just passive commentary

the tags you put on posts ( both when you made the post and when you're reblogging something ) are both global and hosted on your profile. it's why you'll see things like "nameofperson art" rather than just "art". using just "art" will put you in the promoted tag, in this case

you can use spaces on your tags

usually you will tag what type of post you're making ( art, text post, ask post ), and then the contents keep in mind this is how people often mute things, some people tag the current situation, people use and mute ship tags. but this is also how people find things, like the specific asks from one person to another, so "username ask" is commonly used, "irl person ( dream, dnf, etc )" is also seen a lot just watch how others tag things and copy them. nobody will get offended you took their tag formatting, most of us will appreciate properly tagged posts

you do tag when you reblog people. you use tags to comment on things. don't really use replies unless you're, saying thank you to someone or pointing out a spell mistake or asking to add an option to a poll, etc. we don't do replies, just rb your reply

quick reblog and like deets

post popularity is measured in "notes" which is the sum of replies, reblogs and likes. we don't really care much about numbers here and if you start getting crazy about it people will not like it. this is more of a talking and showing site

you can reblog without tags, feel free to

you can hide your likes. you can and should like as many things as you want. they don't alter any algorithm, since there's none. a like is a "i saw this post" notification to the poster

actually posting

people talk a lot. a fucking lot, and it's something you will have to get used to, because it's very different from twitter

there are no qrts. callouts are looked down upon. breathe. if you don't like something MUTE IT DON'T POST ABOUT IT, because no one is going to listen to any callouts. you will have to learn to live with the fact people like things you don't. this will, with time, make you feel very free

the bulk of posting here is asks, as you might notice soon. asks are fun and encouraged. just don't name drop if you're talking about drama please ?

don't be scared to send asks off anon, this is how people will find you and get to know you really. people are also more likely to reply to you

block bait anons. yes you can block anons. yes it will block every blog they make

culture time

i've said this. tumblr is unserious. drama here is approached very differently and with several less layers of panic. you will see death threats. you will see slurs ( said in non derogatory ways ). you will see jokes about serious topics. you will see people say "i didn't like this" and nobody will care

tumblr is a community of individualism. you will like your own things within the thing we share we like. you might not like dream's music, you might not find irl streams entertaining, as long as you're fucking normal about it ? nobody will care and you're free to express your opinions. people will even come ask you about it and just have a chat. we're here for the same content to some degree

tumblr is also a bunch of people who understand they like another bunch of people. that none of the streamers have stopped being human. so you might see people defend things that, maybe, you'd not have thought to defend before. maybe you're even uncomfortable seeing them defending it. this is something you will experience a lot, and you'll learn to properly deal with it as time passes

because again. no one does callouts here unless it is extremely bad. no one cares if you don't really like them. and they also accept people might and will not like them. and that is fine. and that doesn't make either person horrible. you're just different people. and you don't even have to interact

you want to make friends ? ask people things, compliment people's work, genuinely attempt to make conversation. this is not an impersonal website the way twitter is. people don't care about your opinions because they care about you, and you are more than what you don't like

the more positive and jokey and interactive you are the more people will talk to you. there's no "hitting the algorithm", there's no "engagement", it's just people talking to people. so don't be a neg posting bot, and be a person

you will learn to be less miserable. you learn to stop giving a shit and just do what makes you happy. they cannot get you here. there's no qrts. the few antis you'll find can be blocked and you'll never have to directly interact with one. don't be mean to the people in your own community, even if you disagree

again, you are more than what you don't like. learn to be what you like instead. and leave the dooming at the door

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

WIBTA if I tried to covertly exclude one of my friends from game nights ? 🎮🎧📞

tw: disordered eating, self harm

I've got a discord friend group of about 15 people though only 10 or so are regularly active and game nights often are usually around 6 people but they rotate who participates often. We're all in the 20s and mostly nonbinary / genderqueer / trans one way or another. I'm 25 ftm personally (they them) and the friend this is about in particular is 22mtf (she/they).

Friend is really excited to hit the 1 year marker in her transition and loves sharing how excited she is about her progress - how strangers at her job are gendering her correctly more and more often, how her cup sizes are growing, how much weight she's lost, wardrobe updates, getting to learn girl things from their very supportive mom, etc etc etc. It's all very exciting, I remember hitting my 1 year marker and i'm genuinely really happy for her.

The thing is I struggled with disordered eating in the past. Several others in our friend group have as well and it's something we've talked about both in related and unrelated convos to this issue. Friend keeps an excel spreadsheet with her measurements from bust to hips to weight and will update us frequently whether we've expressed interest in hearing the exact numbers or not. Exact Numbers was one of the things I kept track of and hearing her tracking them (for very different reasons) will often set me off and i'll start taking more and more unhealthy actions, falling back into disordered habits.

Friend has adhd and very poor impulse control. She often joins conversations and talks over people, completely changes conversational topics on a dime, or forgets who is in a call at any moment and brings up someone's triggers. She'll almost always apologize if someone mentions a social mistake she's made, but because the weight/food intake/number watching is so important to them as a way to track their transition it's the one thing that keeps coming back and back and back. I and the others have tried talking in voice calls, mentioning in text chats in the group and even DMing her but because of the topic and this group being the friend group she feels safest in (we were all the first to know and hyped them up on the hrt journey) these are some convos she only gets to have here

and because of the topic, i feel rude or embarrassed when I have to say "hey can we not talk about this right now or i'm gonna have to leave". So on most nights if it comes up I'll just deafen / go afk / just zone out entirely until the conversation has passed. If it doesn't seem like it's going to or they are so in depth that it's genuinely triggering a self harm response i'll fully leave instead so she can keep having her fun and get excited

Game nights are different though

I'm usually the host of game night and so can pick when we play our silly little games. Obviously people can and do still hangout and do things together Not on specific game nights, and we all do, but game nights are my thing. We play party games over discord or multiplayer competition games or lately have been getting into games like content warning and lethal company when there's 4 or sometimes 5 of us (either someone wants to hang out but only watch or we rotate around who plays round by round)

Friend is often working in the evenings and so bc this is an online friend group they don't actually know my work schedule. We usually only have about half the total number of participants be around for game night anyways, so I've been thinking of occasionally lining up game nights for nights when she's mentioned being busy by saying i work the other nights - but only sometimes. I do really like friend. She can be so much fun to hang out with, excitingly competitive and with interesting knowledge to share and generally a good sport no matter the actual game we're playing. But sometimes the worry about the triggering and the trigginering itself are too much. sometimes i just can't handle when she does it and knowing i can't leave and asking her to stop expressing her joy makes me feel like an asshole anyways so i don't want to be around it.

To be clear. I do not think they are an asshole. Friend is genuinely one of my friends. I like her and hanging out with her. they do not trigger me (or any of the others w this same trigger) maliciously. this is solely would I be the asshole.

TLDR: My friends way of tracking her transition sometimes triggers my eating disorder. would I be the asshole for planning game nights that I host and cannot leave / tune out conversations during so that she cannot attend as often in hopes that I am not triggered as often?

[yama-does-art]

Magic on the Lost Light - Part 1

Lost Light x (gn)reader

[Here] | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | End

Content: mtmte human oc insert, discontinued

Warnings: None

Word Count: 1.4k

Rung I

“You found  a what!?”

Rung jumped as he heard the Chief Medical Officer as he walked into the medbay. Upon entering, he could see a broad shouldered medic zipping from one device to the next. One more step and the mech noticed his presence.

His optics narrowed to a frightening degree. “Now what happened to you?”

The psychiatrist ex-vented, so this was the infamous Ratchet. The medic that was feared by both autobot and decepticon alike. One who was abrasive and kind in equal measures. “My forearm was severed by a rogue fly-by, but if there is something more serious I can come back later.”

Immediately the medic was on him, “A severed limb?” he  started, leaning in to examine the part, “Huh? You're not wrong. The cut is incredibly clean, your energon conduits have already cauterized.” He threw up a servo, “You’re going to have to stick around, I may need your assistance.”

That caught the old mech’s attention. Could it have something to do with the other patients? He looked at the berths beside him. Two bots were unconscious, one was a minibot and the other was Whirl, of all mechs. He didn’t remember seeing him on the roster. “What can I help with?”

Ratchet was moving between his office and back. “Your Ring, the ships’ psychiatrist?”

“Actually, it’s Rung, like the ladder.”

“Right. Anyway, if what Perceptor claimed to be true, a human was found near the engines after our failed jump. Don’t ask me how. If they are still alive, I am going to need someone to monitor them while I care for any injured crew that was thrown out of the airlock.”

“A human? While I’m honored that you think highly of my skills, I never personally met any of their species. If they wake up, I don’t even have a human holoform.”

“Other than me, Rodimus, and Magnus, I doubt anyone else here has one either. You’re unassuming and you are trained to deal with erratic individuals. We share quite a bit in terms of behavior. That will be enough for now.”

Just then, Perceptor came in, bursting into the medbay cupping a small form between his digits. “Ratchet, their breathing has stopped and their pulse has ceased 7 clicks ago.”

Rung could feel another wave of worry, this one, far more intense. “Into my Office,” Ratchet said. Then he turned to him. “Stay here until I give the all-clear.”

The two mechs disappeared into the CMO’s office. A faint shimmer of static bounced from the sealed entrance, no doubt the atmospheric shield generator taking into effect. He hoped the organic survived. It would be interesting to hear the story of how they ended up here of all places. The psychiatrist also was curious about what the medic said earlier. Just how similar were cybertronians to humans? In all his years of existence, he has never had the opportunity to work with another species before. A fact he has not thought much of until now.

“Never thought I’d see a medbay without a medic,” said a voice.

Rung turned to find another minibot. This one was stout with a white ventilation chassis, with his extremities highlighted red. “Ratchet is with another patient in his office, you must be Swerve.”

He grinned, “I see I am famous already and you are?”

“Rung. I am the ship’s Psychiatrist.”

“An actual psychiatrist? I knew most of us had a few screws loose but wow. I didn’t think Cybertron still had bots like you.”

Rung just frowned. Even before the war, there were few bots who specialized in the field of psychiatry. It was an unfortunate state of affairs then. Now with the end of the war, Cybertron needed mechs like him more than ever. He coughed, “Yes, well I am here to serve. I know Ultra Magnus has required the entire crew for an initial psych evaluation, but if there is anything that you may need, do not hesitate to ask.”

The minibot grinned, “I’ll keep that in mind doc. So what’s with the mystery patient behind the office door? Does it have something to do with Perceptor? One moment, I was finalizing my results, the next I see Percy barrel through like it's the end of the world. Which may not be that far from the truth now that I think about it. The ship did blow up on take off.”

“I am not sure, Ratchet had just asked for me to stay in case the patient needed to be calmed down.” Rung said. It wasn’t a complete lie. He just did not want to get the bot excited for nothing. He still didn’t know if the organic was going to live or not. “You mentioned test results; What were you testing?”

“Ratchet wanted me to date the metal from that minibot over there, the one with blue and white paint. Get this, the mech is over six million years old.”

“How? That’s incredible. Who is he?”

“We don’t know. Here’s the kicker, Docbot, Rewind, and Chromedome found him in a ditch with his circuits fried. The poor spark might not even know what year this is.”

Poor spark indeed. Rung glanced at the unconscious mech. Six million years was practically an entire epoch of cybertronian history. So much has changed, from the death of the council, to a civil war that lasted another 4 million years, to the initial destruction of their planet, only for it to end within a few weeks before  today. “Whatever happens, he needs to be told gently. Regardless of when the mech was buried, it would be a deeply traumatic experience to just wake up so far removed from what one might know.”

Swerve nodded sagely, “Don’t have to tell me twice. It just blows my processor to think about it. A mech who never knew about the civil war. Crazy, I tell you.”

Rung didn’t respond, his own words echoing back to him. If the human were to wake up, it would be the same for them. An individual displaced in an unknown time and place. Unlike the mystery mech, they would not get the luxury of being surrounded by their own species.

“Oi, Rhung, I think Ratchet wants to talk to you. He kept shooing me away.” said Swerve.

The psychiatrist blinked. Bringing himself back to reality just in time to see Perceptor leave. Bidding the minibot goodbye he followed the medic into his office. He wasn’t sure what he was expecting, but it was not that. The creature before him was smaller than his servo and barely the width of his digit. Unlike cybertronians’, their outer shell consisted of a smooth organic mesh, with the top of their helm adorned with calcium dense fur. At least, that was what he could tell, from what was not covered in cloth. He now understood why mechs considered this particular species uncanny, everything from their physique to their glassy optics mirrored his own. 

“We were lucky. Upon resuscitation, I have detected no internal damages. I’ll have to run more diagnostics later but from what I can tell, that is a completely healthy homosapien sapien. Even more astounding they have taken to being stranded on our ship rather well. I apologize that I won’t be able to mend your arm at the moment, but are you still willing to watch them while I take care of the minibot outside?”

“No problem at all, Doctor. Do you have the data pack for the human’s language available? I might be able to answer any questions they might have.” 

“Yes I do and many thanks Rung. I will return shortly, and don't worry about their physical condition. The medical drone is monitoring their vitals.” There was a flicker of unease in his EM field, “Just, keep an optic out on this one. I got enough on my servos, I don’t need to deal with a runaway organic either.”

Rung was about to say that it would be pointless for the human to run due to the atmospheric controls in the rest of the ship, but stopped himself.  Looking back at the organic, it was rather unnerving how intense their gaze was. It reminded him of a cyber-cat stalking its prey. He was not familiar enough with their species emotes, however there was a certain defensiveness to their posture that he recognized. If this was a fellow cybertronian, what would he do?

With as much finesse he could muster, he took a seat across from the organic. Good, they did not flinch, though the absurdity of their size difference was not lost on him. “Hello, little one, my designation is Rung. I am the ship's psychiatrist and I am here to help.”

They still had a look of suspicion but their posture slackened somewhat. They placed a servo to their chassis and tilted their head forward, “Ratchet mentioned something about you. Nice to meet you too, Rung. Call me Buddy.”

Next ->

[chlobliviate]

Wolfstar Microfic - Godric’s Hollow

Words: 806

@wolfstarmicrofic

🌙✨🌙✨🌙

Sirius was under a blanket on the sofa when Remus got home from work. Never a good sign. He didn’t need to look at his face to know that he was pouting.

“What’s happened?” He perched on the arm of the sofa, looking at Sirius upside down.

“Lames have bought a house,” Sirius muttered from under the blanket. Remus waited for him to continue. “In Godric’s Hollow!”

Remus digested this information, “And you’re grumpy because…”

“That’s so far away!” Sirius wriggled beneath the blanket. “We’ve always all lived in London since we graduated.”

“Pads, you’re a wizard. You can Apparate or floo there in seconds. They could have bought a house in New Zealand and it would take you the same time to get there.” He chuckled.

“That’s not the point!” Right, he was at the point of being irrational. This called for desperate measures. Remus stood up, then eased himself on top of the blanket, wrapping his arms around Sirius. “Moons. The fuck?”

“You sounded like you needed a hug about it.” Remus said softly, “You worried that James is leaving you behind?”

“Shut up,” Sirius whispered. Remus rolled slightly to slide down the gap between Sirius and the back of the sofa.

“Can I come in?” Remus asked. Sirius huffed and lifted the blanket, allowing Remus to pull it over himself. Their legs tangled as they found themselves chest to chest. “Hi.”

“Alright, Moons?” Sirius tried to smile. “I know I’m being ridiculous.”

“Maybe you’re being a bit dramatic.” He paused, “But, it’s a big deal. They’re going to raise their kids in a house with a garden, where James can build them a treehouse and Lily can have a herb garden. I bet they’ll have a guest room for when you get too pissed to Apparate home, too. It’s going to be so good for them.”

“Well, now you just sound like them.” Sirius frowned. “Do you ever think about it? Buying a house with your wife, or husband, or whatever. In the future?”

“I don’t think I’ll ever get to have that,” Remus said lightly. “I’m always going to be missing two crucial parts of the plan, money and someone who’ll stick around when they find out I’m a werewolf.”

“Huh,” Sirius said.

“What?” Remus narrowed his eyes.

“Well… you don’t have money to buy a house, I do. You think nobody will stick around after finding out about your furry little problem,” Remus rolled his eyes, “I did. It’s been over a decade, and I’m still here.”

“What’s your point?” Remus said slowly, a strange feeling unfolding in his chest.

“Maybe we should buy a house.” Sirius had a content smile on his face as if this was the obvious answer to his problems.

“Not that I don’t love living with you, because I do. But how would that work when you bring blokes home, or inevitably date, or one day want to get married?” Remus chewed on his lip. He could taste blood.

“The thing is,” Sirius wanted to pull Remus’ lip from between his teeth just so he’d stop attacking it. “I don’t think I want that with anyone else. I think… No, I know. I only want that with… you.”

He said the last word so quietly that Remus almost convinced himself that he misheard. He stared at Sirius. “Me?”

Sirius nodded, “James and Lily are getting married in the summer.”

“Yeah, I’m Lily’s best man or whatever she’s calling it. I’m aware. What does—”

“It’s just made me think about things. Then when they dropped the bomb about them moving, it put it into focus even more.” He actually did pull Remus’ lip from between his teeth that time. “Stop. You’re bleeding.” He grabbed his wand from his back pocket and cast a wordless Episkey. Remus’ eyes darkened. “When I think about getting married, having kids, or buying a house… it's always with you, Moons.”

“That’s probably just because we live together now.” Remus fought the urge to start gnawing on his lip again. “You’re just—”

“No. I’m not.” Sirius looked at him, “Look. If you aren’t interested, that’s fine. Nothing needs to change, I’m not going to be a dick about it. But if there’s even the tiniest part of you that is—”

He was interrupted by Remus surging forward and kissing him. Their mouths moved together as Sirius pulled Remus closer, grasping his hip. Remus pushed his shoulder slightly and rolled them both so he was straddling Sirius’ thighs. He threw the blanket off them and looked down at him.

“Is that a yes?” Sirius asked breathlessly.

“A yes to what?” Remus’ left eyebrow raised slightly.

“Any of it. All of it.” Sirius grabbed Remus’ collar and pulled him back down for a searing kiss.

“Yes.” Remus whispered against his lips, “To all of it.”