#I don't really write down translations

[chadlesbianjasontodd]

[translation] "Pear Blossom" by Yoshiya Nobuko

Although the fiction of "Japan's first lesbian author" Yoshiya Nobuko was (and remains) hugely popular, of her entire body of work only one short story has ever been published in English translation, and no (other) fan translations appear to exist --- despite the enormous influence of her work on the predominant aesthetics and themes of shoujo manga. The beautiful flowery style and melodrama so famously attached to shoujo manga are thanks in large part to Yoshiya, and I'm very happy to be able to share one of her stories with you now!

"Pear Blossom" is a sparse and vivid short story from Yoshiya's early collection Hanamonogatari ("Flower tales"), a book noted for its use of beautiful imagery and its emphasis on the importance of romantic relationships between girls.

Read it here!

(nota bene, "Pear Blossom" is in the style of romantic, 'narcissistic' girlhood tragedy for which Yoshiya is most famous; approach accordingly. I've also included a page of notes on Yoshiya and her early lesbian fiction.)

[ravencromwell]

The poem evokes human greatness and human vulnerability. People are “godlike” in their courage and skill, but even the greatest mortals fall and clutch the dust between their bloody fingers. The beautiful word minunthadios , “short-lived,” is used of both Achilles and Hector, and applies to all of us. We die too soon, and there is no adequate recompense for the terrible, inevitable loss of life. Yet through poetry, the words, actions, and feelings of some long-ago brief lives may be remembered even three thousand years later.

--Emily Wilson's introduction to the Iliad

[mantisgodsdomain]

We ought to write more Pokemon fic some time. We want to recreate the Pokemon Manners/Human Manners cheat sheet that we made a few years ago we think that this site would like the Sliding Scale Of Politeness When Greeting A New Pokemon You've Never Met Before.

[sysig]

Last man standing (Patreon)

[lenievi]

Jean Valjean had only two thoughts: to hide his name and sanctify his life & escape from men and return to God

but he would sacrifice the first for the second, his safety for his virtue

he could not fire Javert because he would sacrifice his virtue if he fired Javert in that moment. Because Javert was actually right (despite being completely fooled at that time), and Javert was dangerous, and Valjean could make him go, but he couldn't because it wouldn't be right.

and that's literally it imho. Valjean as Madeleine acts with and around Javert (or anyone, really, Javert isn't special, Madeleine doesn't treat him any different than others) in a way that doesn't sacrifice his virtue. He will sacrifice his safety (i.e. Fauchelevent) but not his virtue

You can also see it in this imho:

“Javert, you are a man of honor, and I esteem you. You exaggerate your fault. Moreover, this is [another] offence which concerns me. Javert, you deserve promotion instead of degradation. I wish you to retain your post.” [Hapgood, but I added "another" since it's missing]

He can't punish Javert for being right. He alludes back to Fantine spitting on him. "Madeleine", not anyone or anything else, was wronged and he chose not to punish in both cases.

He might not like Javert; Javert has been troubling him, following him, he's been a danger to him (for almost 5 years), but he wouldn't sacrifice his virtue for Javert, and firing Javert would do that imho (and at that time, it would "soil Madeleine")

Javert, you deserve promotion instead of degradation. = is such a good irony, but it probably went over Javert's head completely. But moreover, that line literally makes no sense in context unless you consider "you are actually right" (and you don't know it; ironic, isn't it?)

---

That's why I like Javert's line from LM 2000 (which might just be taken from somewhere from the book anyway) that goes: [Valjean] goes against order, against law, and against his own interests.

[tennessoui]

I adore the TA AU, but I feel like it needs a few more snippets before it could go on Ao3 and feel like a proper fic (not b/c of word count, but because it feels like there are a few key emotional moments missing). (What there is is so good!)

i guess that's the question though, like. a lot of my ficlets i have are just that--ficlets, meant to either lead into another ficlet eventually or lead into answering asks about the ficlet where i then talk more about the au and it gets all fleshed out.

is posting just a ficlet enough on ao3 or is it dishonest to what the au is on tumblr?

i think the ta au is a good example of that, where there are multiple ficlets but it may not feel complete in ficlet form because part of the au is the short ask answers and tags and head canon reblogs that can't be translated over easily to ao3 because it was born on tumblr and it's by it's nature a tumblr au

another example i think would be the princess diaries au where there are 2-3 really good ficlets i like a lot that i think people would like to read but they are by no means close-ended and they're written to leave the concept open to embellishment later on

so when it comes to aus like those, do i wait, do i try to write more, do i keep them solely on tumblr....and when it comes to aus that are JUST one ficlet but left-open ended, does that get to go on ao3?? do i wait?? do i try to write more?? at that point, is that no longer a copy-paste over project and an active effort to translate from tumblr norms to ao3 ones?

[araneitela]

My apologies for being absent!

/cracks knuckles, but I'm in the midst of typing about fear and with it, hope to make it up to you guys a little. I don't remember the last time that I've been so motivated to write meta of any kind, but Kafka makes me never want to shut up, and honestly— I feel bad when I'm sitting in Discord, with someone's DMs open and I'm sitting on my hands to prevent myself from hypothesizing, because when I don't, it's twelve paragraphs at least. So here we go, let's take my hypothesizing to the dashboard.

Can I also just... say how much two instrumental tracks scream Kafka to me and I lose my mind? I need to stop losing my mind. But this character is just everything I've craved to write for much too long, her premise, dynamics, her goal, the references and symbolism, it's so delightful and thrilling and absolute chef's kiss. Any way, in case anyone may want to know what's playing over and over and over again without stop. The romanticism of Kafka: — Table for Two — The Field

[byanyan]

when u've been writing the same reply for two days in a row...

[brick-van-dyke]

I'm not very far through it, but 'The Library of Broken Worlds' by Alaya Dawn Johnson is delightfully new and inspiring.

Maybe this is a little pessimistic to say, but I always figured that most stories have already been told to some degree, in the sense that we will all inevitably write using a pre-existing archetype in world building regardless of if we intend to, and only different variations on these archetypes were left to tell, but this book is proving me wrong left and right; showing a world that is so thoroughly unique and beautiful in its creativity and world building that I can't help but reevaluate that mentality. I have yet to know more of the story or the overall theme, but so far this book has proven to be wonderfully delightful in its handling of a whole new and distant world and incredibly original. It's written in such a compelling way that reveals its lore and rules spectacularly and uses a very unique method of writing that, while has been done before, feels fresh in its delivery. It's one thing to tell a story, but another to tell it to a god. I highly recommend it even if I'm only going from the first one and a half chapters; that was all it took for this book to blow me away.

[solemntitty]

ouegh we are going back to pre-medication levels of understanding words that people speak

[l13]

cw: nsfw 18+, MDNI, fever sex, f!reader, lazy writing, not proofread

DEAN is half-lidded, can barely keep his eyes open. You're starting to get worried so you press your palm down against his chest to move away from him, but he grabs your waist, pulling you back down on his cock. “No, no, no, don't stop, don't y'dare stop,”

You whine, “But Dean- you're burning up.” and he really was. You could tell by touching his pecs, the skin too warm under your fingertips, and you could also tell by his pulsing cock inside of you. The hot sensation spreading through your cunt, the warmth traveling up to your belly.

Dean hisses, “It's this pussy- h my God- so warm baby, could stay inside you forever-”

He pushes you skin tight against him with a hand on the small of your back, his arms then circling around your frame as he holds you close, his breath fanning against your lips as he moans lowly

Holding his cheek in your palm, your eyes dance across his face as his head tilts back, eyes rolling from the feeling of your cold hand against him.

“Just like that honey, fuck yourself onto me c'mon. Want y'to cum all over me.” he was mumbling, his words barely coherent, yet his hips never stopped snapping up against you, chasing your hot cunt.

“Jesus, Dean-” you whimper against his lips as you roll your hips in circles, making sure he stays snug inside you, your clit rubbing against his pubic bone making your thighs shake “m gonna cum” you cry out, and he groans, giving you open mouth kisses, his thoughts too fuzzy to even kiss you properly.

Your walls clamp down on him, and he moans, “Yess, yeah that's it- fuck- squeezin' me so damn tight sweetheart-” his cock now gliding easier in and out of your puffy pussy with the help of your wetness

Despite the aftershocks, your body twitching, and your thighs begging you to take a break, you keep going. Now, sloppily fucking yourself down on his warm cock, as you egg him on, “Come on baby, cum for me. I want it s'bad,”

His cheeks are flushed, mouth hanging open n' eyes crossed as he stares into nothing, “Yes yes yes, oh please- please make me cum- i'll do anything just please-”

His voice cracks as he begs you, his hands grabbing onto your thighs, nails digging into your skin as he follows the movements of your hips, feeling the coil in his belly slowly unfold.

You place your hands behind you on his thighs, leaning back as you keep your relentless pace and he groans pathetically, sitting up to moan against your tits as he cums, snapping his hips up against you roughly to make sure he’s as deep as he can go, feeling his cum and your slick messing up the inside of his thick thighs.

You’re panting hard as you slow down, thighs still twitching every now and then as you run your fingers through his hair, murmuring praises against his temple, lips warming up quickly since he was still burning up.

“You okay? you ask, and he nods against your shoulder, moaning huskily when he gives another slow roll up against you, “Dean let's go have a look at you, I’m getting worried baby-”

“Wait.” he snaps his half lidded eyes up to yours, a tear running down his cheek as he grins lazily, “Wanna go again. Please?”

2024 © l13 | Do not steal, copy, edit, translate or re-post any of my works.

[mantisgodsdomain]

Concept for your desire to do a specific bracket tournament that isn't weighted against OCs: EVERY character is represented by a Picrew or a stock image, and EVERY character has the name of their source work written without any indication if it's actually published (if the WIP does not yet have a title, a placeholder title is used without indicating that it is such). Voters won't know if the character is from something published that they simply haven't heard of yet

The problem with this is that it would still have the issue of things being weighted towards popular characters - people still know who The Knight from Hollow Knight is, even if we don't use an official image and instead used a stock image of the void or painstakingly reconstruct them in a Picrew. The main thing that gets people to vote in a tournament is connection - knowing the character or the people attached to them.

The thing that biases things against OCs in this tournament is, primarily, their limited spread - the lack of people who would be familiar with them. Though more well-known OCs can circumvent this enough to stand on firm ground with characters - someone like spotsupstuff's Three Sparrows On A Wire, for example, might have a solid chance in a tournament with canon characters, there will still be less people invested in Sparrows than there are, say, people invested Humans-B-Gone!'s Sophodra.

Because the thing with canon characters is that, by definition, you've already seen them in action. They already have a story that you can readily access, compared to an OC, where the creator has to write and present the story themself - and a story that's never been written is very, very difficult to invest people in. You can't put the emotional impact of someone you've followed for a million words up against the emotional impact of a cool design you saw in the interwebs, and if you have to create emotional investment in the space of a bio, you're naturally going to fare worse than someone who's had hundreds of pages to win you over.

Really, the only way we can see it working well is something like that @guess-that-ship's format of "text only, can't name anything that would give the game away in regards to who it is", and for obvious reasons, that's... not quite going to work the same way.

[writtenapoiogy]

patience running thin; jacaerys velaryon

pairing: jacaerys velaryon x f!reader

summary: 'You two were to be wed by the week’s end. He was getting impatient. You were both getting impatient.'

word count: 1.3k

warnings: nsfw, 18+, smut, MINORS DNI, porn w/o plot, somewhat canon compliant, hot HOT make out, fingering, hair pulling, groping, high valyrian used w translation (if it is wrong i obviously don't know hv please forgive me), jacaerys is feral.

a/n: i had to write and publish something about jace pronto i hope everyone enjoys! i may write a part 2 😁 (this is so minimally proofread it is 1am)

READ PART TWO HERE

“What are you doing here my love?” You said as Jacaerys walked you into your bedchamber and shut your door with his foot.

His eyebrows furrowed. “What can I not see my betrothed?” Jace leaned down crashing his lips upon yours. He needed this every day. Feeling your lips against his helped center him during this crazy war. He wrapped his arms around your back pulling you completely against him.

You two were to be wed by the week’s end. He was getting impatient. You were both getting impatient. He’s wanted nothing more than to be inside of you since the date was set. Every time you two went to share a kiss there was nothing but heat behind it, a simple peck would lead to deeper kisses. Pushed against walls. Hands anywhere they could reach. Hushed moans drowned out by kisses.

He brought his hands from around you to cup your face and yours went to unpin his cloak. It fell to the floor alongside his sheathed sword they both fell and a loud clank resonated around the room.

“I missed you today.” Jacaerys ran his nose from behind your ear down to your collarbone. Taking in your scent. A warm vanilla, he could moan at your smell alone. You had just had your nightly bath.

He walked you towards your bed until the two of you fell on top of your bed cover. He kneeled over you, his mouth was all over your neck and the parts of your chest that were exposed.

Your hands were entangled in his exquisite curls. Gasps and moans left your mouth. You spread your legs and he ran his hand up one, piling your dress around your waist.

“I do not think I can keep my honor intact much longer,” Jace spoke his hand entirely too close to your small clothes.

You let out small gasps reaching your head towards him, wanting nothing more than to grasp his lips yet again.

“Jacaerys.” You whined desperately against his lips. “I cannot wait.”

He groaned and pulled away from you shaking his head. “Do not say that.” He sat on the backs of his legs looking down at you. “I cannot hear that. We marry in less than four days and every day we get closer, I am finding my honor on a very very thin line. I cannot be in control of what happens if I hear that.”

“Does it really count as dishonor when we marry so soon?” You smiled.

“We cannot.” He began to look at your frame. He could see your hard nipples through the thin material of your sleepwear. Looking at your beautiful legs. All the way up to where your dress was just barely covering your most intimate area. You looked so beautiful in front of him.

“We can.” You sat up running your hands up his chest. “And you are wearing too many clothes.”

“We canno-.”

“Jacaerys! Do something, please. Anything I’ll take anything you’ll give me… please.” You couldn’t take it anymore. These past few weeks, you’ve become touch starved for your soon-to-be husband. But touched starved in a place you have never felt him. Between the promiscuous kisses against walls in empty corridors. To the heated make-outs in each other beds. It was simply too much for you. You couldn’t handle it anymore.

You saw something flash in Jace’s eyes at your words. He was on you in seconds. Pulling your night dress down just enough to see the swell of your breasts. “I do not wish to spoil myself of your entirety before we are vowed to each other. I wish not to ruin the anticipation. To see my wife in all of her glory.”

You moaned at his words. He took your lips, pushing you back down on the bed, moaning into your mouth. He was kneeling over you. Your hands were tangled in his hair. This was all too much for both of you.

His cock screaming for release inside of his tight pants. You felt your stomach twisting in such delight. Your skin was ablaze, feeling his hands and mouth all over you. He brought his mouth down to the tops of your breasts, groping one through your clothes with his slender hands.

“Ja-Jacaerys. More. Please.” You struggled to get out through gasps and groans.

Jacaerys pulled his mouth away from your breast. He dragged his hand down from your breast slowly down your side till it was past your dress and going up the inner side of your thigh.

You felt your breath get stuck in a lump in your throat as you anticipated his next move. His eyes never left yours. Beautiful browns. So deep right now they almost looked like were brown mixed with blood red.

He brought his other hand down with him to pull your thin undergarments off of your body. His body had a visceral reaction to the smell of your arousal, which filled his nose as soon as he removed your small clothes. “Ao jāhor sagon se morghon hen issa.” You will be the death of me.

You not being of Targaryen blood, you did not understand what he just said. But him speaking the ancient language of High Valyrian did something to you. “Jace.” You whined.

Jacaerys brought his finger forward rubbing it through you wet folds. You jerked when his finger lightly touched your clit.

His eyes sparked mischievously, “Do you find that pleasurable, my love.” You mewled when he circled his finger over it. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

He continued to play with your clit as you threw your hand to the back of his head, rocking your hips against his finger. You whispered in his ear that you needed him to put it inside of you.

He quickly slipped his index finger inside of you and groaned at your tightness. He began to pump his finger. All he could do was look at you in pure awe. Your breasts struggled to free themselves as you arched your back at the pleasure. Sweat droplets pilling up on your forehead. Your mouth was wide open as you let out wanton moans and cries of his name.

“Oh, you are perfect. Please look at me.” Jacaerys spoke when he curled his index finger inside of you, trying to see what made you tick. Looks like he hit it right on the spot. He couldn’t help but smirk, feeling a bit arrogant.

You opened your eyes as you let out a loud whimper. Jace immediately crashed his lips to yours in an open mouth kiss full of tongue and spit and lust. He pulled away, keeping his finger curling into the soft spot inside of you.

You looked down at the tent in his pants and couldn’t stop yourself from reaching your hand out to touch your prince but he immediately protested.

“If you touch me there that line of honor I have will snap. Do you rea-,” Jacaerys began before he was cut off by a knock at your door. Jacaerys stopped what he was doing and looked at you with wide eyes. “Tell them to go.” He leaned down and whispered against your lips.

“I am feeling a bit unwell. Please could this wait till the morning?” Jace smiled at you and then took your lips again. His hand resumed its actions as well.

“Little prince, I know you’re in there. Your mother is waiting for you at the painted table.”

Both of your faces blanched as you recognized no one other than Daemon Targaryen on the outside of the door.

Jacaerys removed his finger from inside of you and you hissed. He gave you a quick kiss before getting out of your bed to straighten himself up.

After he donned his cloak again, he gave you another kiss. “I will see you in the morning, Princess.”

You smiled at him as he helped get you situated under your covers. He was out the door before you could help him fix his hair. You laughed at the thought.

READ PART TWO HERE

[reiderwriter]

I'm Your Fluffer!

Pairing: Spencer Reid x female reader (best friends to lovers)

For @imagining-in-the-margins FWB Challenge!

Prompt: "I'm your boyfriend without the benefits." "Do you want the benefits?" "Yes- No... I'm your fluffer!" (Inspired by New Girl) (yes, I suggested this prompt, bo idc if that's cheating)

Warnings: Mentions of BDSM, unprotected vaginal sex, oral sex (f receiving), fingering, choking, mentions of spanking, and butt worship, slight Dom Spencer, bratty reader, creampie. The classics, yk.

A/N: I'm back!!!! I took a break because I couldn't bring myself to even look at a word document for about a month, but there's nothing like a Pom challenge to get me writing again! I did have a lot planned for my 1 year anniversary, but because I was sick, and then busy, and then work got hectic, I had to put it off. I still am going to try to finish my kink bingo Carr, though, even though its a month late, but I had two fics left iirc, and I have both of them plotted, so I may as well! I will, however, be abandoning the final epilogue of I Can't Help Myself, because I wrote myself into a depressed corner with that one, and honestly, some people were getting very pushy about it, and it wasn't fun anymore. Anyway! This one was fun to write, so I'm going to stick to one shots for the foreseeable future, or incredibly limited series.

Masterlist

Spencer was your friend. A good friend. Your best friend, perhaps. A really good, very best friend.

Obviously, you were good friends because he always knew when you were feeling down. He bought you flowers regularly when he passed by flower shops. He came over to your place and helped you build every piece of flatpack furniture you had, which, as a single woman in your mid-twenties, was every piece of furniture that you owned.

You really looked forward to the movie nights the two of you had weekly. The popcorn, the blankets, the cuddling, his lips by your ear, in-time translating the foreign movies word for word as you watched it, the shivers down your spine as you pressed further into the heat of him.

Spencer was the best best friend you could ask for.

He was also the most frustrated.

“Kid, what are you doing this weekend? I'm thinking of hitting some clubs, you know, getting my groove on, maybe meeting A few ladies,” Morgan smirked, rubbing his hands together as he gently moved side to side, already dancing to himself as he anticipated his big weekend out. “You in, or are you in?”

“I can't. I promised Y/N I'd help her with some document digitalisation. We're going to order pizza and watch Star Trek while backing up her entire paper trail.”

The smile on Spencer's face was so stupid that Morgan had to stop himself from wiping it off of him immediately.

“Man, you are so down bad for that girl,” he mused, shaking his head.

“What? Down bad?”

“You like her. It's okay to admit it.”

“We're friends. I'm happy being friends,” Spencer said, picking up his bag and walking to the elevator desperate to escape a repeat of a conversation he'd already had three times that week.

“You know everyone thinks you're dating.”

“Well aware. Despite the number of times we've both stated to the contrary, people don't seem to accept ‘we're just friends’ when they hear it.”

“That may be because you're doing things that just friends don't do.”

“Everything we do is totally platonic.”

“You buy her flowers-

“I buy my mother flowers,” Spencer said, turning on the man and raising his hands in exasperation.

“You know that's different. Do you buy Emily flowers?”

Silence.

“What about JJ?”

“I bought JJ flowers!” He grinned triumphantly until the other man spoke again.

“When she was in the hospital. Giving birth. Okay, what about the movie nights?”

Rolling his eyes, the younger man walked on, pressing the bell for the elevator and allowing his friend to keep bothering him.

“Friends watch movies together, Morgan. We've watched movies together, are we dating?”

“One, you are not my type, pretty boy, and two, you didn't exactly have your dick pressed against my ass the entire time we watched a film now, did you?”

“Be q- be quiet. I don't have my dick against her ass ever.”

“Oh, I'm sorry, was it pressed against her stomach instead? I know she likes to lie on top of-”

“Derek!”

The elevator arrived, and the two quickly jumped in, to Spencer's relief.

“All I'm saying, kid, is-”

“Hold the elevator!” You shouted, running to it quickly with Penelope Garcia on your heels.

“Thanks, Spence!” You said, smiling at him as you entered the small space.

And continued your not too unsimilar conversation with Penelope.

“So, as I was saying Penelope,” you shot her a look that told her you were finished with the conversation. You were not dating Spencer Reid, and you were unlikely to in the future because of his total and complete lack of interest in you.

“You can set me up this weekend, right? It's been an age since I've been on a date, and I would really like to-” you glanced around the elevator and whispered the end of your sentence, suddenly mindful of your company. “You know.”

“If you're absolutely sure, I have a few men in mind that could throw you about, but-”

You squealed and squeezed the woman as the elevator landed on your floor and jumped out of the elevator quickly, cheeks burning.

“Thanks, Pen, you're the best!”

“Y/N, wait,” Spencer called out behind you, desperately holding the elevator open for a few more seconds.

“I thought we were doing your papers this weekend? Star trek, pizza, remember?”

You stared guiltily at the floor as you forced your voice to sound as casual as possible, not sure you could make any excuse that didn't sound pathetic.

“Oh, sorry, Spencer. I totally forgot. We can rain check, right? I… I really need this.”

Spencer was aware of what disappointment felt like, but it never hollowed out his chest like your lack of eye contact in that moment did.

“Yeah. Sure, of course. We can do that whenever.”

“Yeah. Thanks, Spencer. You're the best… friend.”

He smiled and let the door finally shut, aware of the two sets of eyes now watching him.

It took a surprisingly long time for the ‘I told you so’ to come, but come it did, as if Morgan were unable to help himself.

“You're telling me that you're not into her at all?”

“I'm…not into her like that at all.”

“And you're fine with me setting her up on a date with a man that'll do somewhat empowering, somewhat disgusting things with her?” Penelope piled on.

“What? That's…that's not my business,” he ground out.

“No. Of course it’s not. Because you're not her boyfriend.”

“Exactly, I'm not her boyfriend-”

“You're her fluffer.”

With a pat on the shoulder, the elevator hit its last stop, and Morgan exited, leaving Spencer scrambling after him as Penelope waved the two of them off.

“What? No, what's a fluffer?”

Morgan chuckled and waved him off, walking to his car.

“Come on, what's a fluffer, and why am I hers?”

“You've seen porn before, right?” The older man asked, pausing as he opened his driver side door. “Actually don't answer that. The fluffer is the person who keeps the actors and actresses… ready between takes. Prepares them for the good stuff.”

With a bright flush across his cheeks, Spencer tried his best for an indignant look, landing somewhat closer to a petulant child.

“I am not her fluffer. We have never-”

“I know you've never. If you had, we wouldn't be standing here right now having this conversation. What I'm saying is you should.”

“We're friends!”

Climbing into the car and closing the door, Morgan dismissed the younger man quickly, but he wasn't finished.

Knocking on the door, Spencer waiting a beat, then two for it to open again.

“I'm not her fluffer.”

“You build her furniture and cuddle with her. You're doing everything a boyfriend would do, without any of the boyfriend rewards.”

“What rewards?” he gasped, exasperated.

A single look was all the reply he got before Morgan out his keys into the ignition and started driving.

Spencer never made the decision to turn up at your house later that night. He just found himself all of a sudden at your front door on a Friday night, pulling out the key from the plant pot by the front door and letting himself in. Unlocking his shoes, he called out through the apartment, letting you know he was there as he slipped into the house shoes you'd bought him after the first of many movie nights.

“Spencer? We cancelled earlier, remember?” you said emerging from your bedroom, fitted in the tightest dress he'd ever seen you in. He already had no answer for your question, but seeing you like that, getting ready, he had no answer to any question at all. If you'd have asked him his name, he wouldn't have known it.

Well, he would've, but only because you'd said it only three seconds ago and had reminded him that he was, in fact, standing in your apartment when he should've been literally anywhere else.

“Um. I'm…I'm just-” he scratched the back of his neck, waiting for something to come to him.

“Spencer, I'm leaving in like an hour, so there's no time to watch a movie, and I have to get ready, so-”

“I'm… I'm angry?”

You raised an eyebrow at his questioning tone, unsure where this conversation was going.

“You sure about that?”

“Yeah..yes. I'm sure. I'm angry. We, we had plans, and you gave me like an hours notice and cancelled them to go do something stupid-”

“Spencer! I'm going on a date. That's not stupid.”

“It is when you have me!”

He half shouted, half murmured the words, as if he himself were unsure of how confident he was in making that statement.

“That came out wrong-”

“Yeah, I think it did.”

“What I mean is- I mean…Morgan said that-”

You crossed your arms and sat yourself on the arm of your sofa, looking forward at him and waiting for him to get through whatever this was. You hoped the entire time that he was saying what you'd wanted him to say for the last year and a half.

“Have you ever watched porn?”

Not what you were hoping for, but a start, at least.

“Spencer!”

“That came out wrong, I- don't throw the couch cushions at me. I have a point, I swear!”

You lowered your next projectile and gestured for him to go on, not fully relinquishing it just yet.

“I'm your fluffer! I get you…in the mood for dates, and- and- I do all the boyfriend stuff without any of the boyfriend benefits!”

He stood in front of you, red-faced, and you stared him down a second or two as you collected your thoughts.

“Do you…want the boyfriend benefits?”

“Yes! No, wait - wait a second. I- I- What are the boyfriend benefits exactly?”

You threw the pillow down and turned your back on him, not entirely sure what you were expecting from the most oblivious genius on the planet.

“Y/N, wait. Wait-”

With a hand wrapped around your wrist, Spencer spun you around, and, tripping over your feet, you landed hard on your sofa. Your fall should've been relatively pain-free, but for the 6-foot man that landed directly on top of you.

“Get up.”

“What are the boyfriend benefits?”

“You should know if you're saying you want them! Now, get up!”

“Not until you tell me.”

“Spencer!”

“Y/N!”

You groaned and writhed under him, but he just dropped his weight onto you, unmoving, hands pinning your wrists lazily, leg poking between your two, hips pinning yours.

It certainly wasn't the closest you'd ever been, but in those circumstances, during that conversation, you felt more flustered than you had before.

“What are the benefits.”

“You really want me to say? You're not afraid it's going to throw off our friendship, ruin whatever good thing we have going?”

“I think that if you go out tonight, and enjoy your date, and get a boyfriend, that he's going to feel weird about this good thing we have going and it's going to be over anyway. Tell me.”

You desperately searched for a way out of this situation, but a stronger part of you wanted to simply wrap your legs around him and let him take as much advantage as he could.

You settled for disturbing him.

“Fine. A boyfriend would be able to spank me.”

“Y/N, be serious.”

“I am. I like it. A boyfriend would pull my hair back and make me count as he hit my cute round ass until it turned all red, and I couldn't sit down comfortably anymore. A boyfriend would then kiss it better.”

You'd never spoken about sex with Spencer, and you hoped the vulgarity would force him back to his senses. Instead, he didn't stir, and you had no choice but to continue.

“Another boyfriend benefit would be choking me. I like that, too. Are your hands big enough to wrap around my throat, Spencer?”

“Yes.”

The answer came so quickly and do confidently, you weren't sure you actually heard it outlook until he spoke again.

“What other benefits, Y/N?”

“A… boyfriend would get to cum inside me,” you whispered, suddenly aware of hips rocking into yours slowly as his cock poked up, listening intently to the promises spilling from your lips that you likely should've regretted.

“Okay.”

“Okay?”

“I want the benefits.”

Your body was hot everywhere he touched you, but he didn't move, didn't follow through on anything just yet. But you were aware of his head moving closer and closer to yours and panicked.

“And what have you done? As my fluffer? To deserve those benefits?”

“What have I done?” He asked, pulling back an inch. Even as his chest rested, flush against yours, your breasts pushed up against him as his hands held yours over your head.

“I-I bought you flowers-”

“Emily buys me flowers, too. So does Penelope. Should I let them be my boyfriend?”

With your hands in use, you took advantage of his distraction and wrapped your legs up and around his waist, rolling your hips up into him.

“I suppose I do like flowers, though. What else?”

“I… We're always t-together?”

“We work together.”

Using the leverage of his weight against yours, you rolled up harder into his hips, grinding into him slowly as you watched his resolve melt away.

“The m-movie nights are-”

“The movie nights where you rut your cock into me while we watch a movie? Friends do that all the time. You're just translating the movie for me after all.”

“Y/N, please don't-”

“Don't say that? Okay. I'll just let someone else hump against my thighs to get off because you're too proud to admit you want to sink your dick into me and pound me?”

“Y/N-”

“Maybe that's why you don't have the boyfriend privileges, Spencer. Because I'm waiting for something, you're too much of a prude to try-”

His lips meet yours before you can finish the thought, and you're not sure whether it's a triumph or a defeat.

After precisely five seconds of his lips on yours, though, you no longer cared.

Releasing your hands gently, he lifted his hips an inch, distracting you enough to force his tongue into your mouth as his hand found its way between your legs.

“Did you really mean it?” He asked between kisses as you rake your hands through his hair, getting lost in him. “About the benefits?”

You allowed yourself to imagine it for a second, Spencer's hands on your throat. His hands on your ass. His mouth buried between your legs.

You moaned into his kiss, and he laughed - actually laughed - as he pulled away.

“Spencer!”

“No, no, please, don't let me keep you from your thoughts, I'll just be down here.”

His fingers reached your clit and he wasn't surprised to find you already wet, legs spread. Snaking another hand to your neck though, he wasn't exactly as opposed to the ideas you'd flung at him as he'd acted.

You gasped as his hand closed around your neck, the prettiest necklace you'd ever worn. You grabbed a hold of his hands as he pulled your underwear off, pushing them down your legs as he gently pushed your legs open wider and replaced his fingers with his tongue.

You curled up on yourself, craving your body to watch him devour your pussy as you tried your best to keep your breaths shallow, to keep breathing entirely as he squeezed your throat.

His tongue licked and flattened, his head bobbing up and down and then stilling as your hips began moving by themselves, letting you ride his face as you moaned and whined and desperately ran towards your climax.

You wrapped a leg around his shoulder, pressing down on his back to keep him in position, grabbing a handful of hair as you jerked against his face, fucking it as he looked up at you through hooded eyes, drinking down every drop of you.

His hold on your neck tightened, and you felt your body shudder as you squeaked out his name, not wanting this to end so soon, needing to feel more of this. He let you ride it out until you were whining in frustration again, hips twitching from the friction of his tongue against your cunt.

Then he pushed away.

He wasn't gone long, but you followed him up. You thought about pushing him down to the couch again, thought about sitting on his pretty boy face and doing it all over again. You thought of turning over and presenting your ass to him, letting him punish you like you'd promised. Your thoughts ceased as quickly as they came when he pulled his cock free of his pants, not even bothering to pull them off fully before pulling you into his lap, lining himself up, and pushing you down onto his hot, hard, lengthy cock.

You swear you would've screamed if his to guess hadn't already claimed your mouth. A good scream. A “holy shit holy shit holy shit” scream. Definitely a “I didn't know it was that big, and honestly I'm a little scared” scream. But overall, a “god that feels so good” scream.

From the lack of movement, you were sure that Spencer was giving you a moment to adjust to his intrusion, and you were thankful as you clung to his neck, hands balling in the material of his shirt on his back.

Although he was bigger than expected, he wasn't uncomfortably large, and you calmed quickly, giving him a quick nod as you buried yourself in his neck, hiding your face to stop yourself from drooling, mouth wide as he tipped you back against the couch pillows, lifting your legs slightly and slipping his hands underneath yous thighs, and began his steady pace of thrusts.

You were sure your world was imploding on itself, that all your senses had ceased except that of touch, and his touch was fire. But you heard the wet, slutty sounds of your pussy welcoming him, you smelt the sweat against his skin, and, opening your eyes, you saw the absolute pleasure blasted against his features as he groaned in your ear.

And before you could form another coherent thought, he'd claimed another boyfriend benefit, as, rocking his hips against yours, he slowed to a stutter as he emptied himself inside you.

“Spencer!!” you moaned, but he wasn't done, spitting on his fingers and finding your clit again as you squealed, twitching and turning and milling his cock with your movements as you found your second release.

You moaned his name again, though it sounded less like his name this time, and more like a definite noise complaint from your neighbours in the morning.

“Spencer?” you asked, still trying to regain your breath as he, once again, collapsed on top of you.

“Mhmm,” he said, slowly pulling out of you, watching the mess you'd made together drip out too, and resisting the urge to push right back into you and go again.

“Was that a friendly fuck, or a boyfriend fuck?”

His eyes snapped to yours again as you continued.

“I just want to give Penelope the correct reason for cancelling on her friend when I text her-”

“I came inside you.”

“So you did.”

“Y/N!”

“.... So that wasn't a fluffer thing, but a boyfriend thing, got i-”

With a kiss, he shut you up again, and you realized quickly that you probably wouldn't have the time to send that text anyway.

[startaee]

your friends hate you for making your crush on katsuki so goddamn obvious. it's supposed to be their job to accidentally push you into him, or ask you about your type when he's coincidentally in the elevator going to class. but they don't even get to enjoy it, because you're just that down bad. you're tripping on air to just crash into him like some 90's Bollywood romcom. but it never happens, he just takes a step aside letting you fall face forward into the hard pavement. you've done it so many times now. your friends are the ones who are embarrassed.

not just that...when you're all in the elevator with him and Kirishima, on your way to class...you suddenly start talking about how you just love rock music and are trying to get your hands on those really really cool skull tees....but to no avail, because when the elevator reaches the class floor, he's walking past you with airdopes blasting loud music, and a really blushy Kirishima following him.

does he know about your little crush on his best friend? is he gonna tell him? or is he not??

i can never get over those silly goofy feelings from college,, and katsuki w this trope just kills meee so good. i'll write it again and again

© startaee 2024. do not copy, translate or repost .

pt.1 pt.3 pt.4 pt.5 pt.6

[brattyspence]

virginia is for lovers | s.reid

summary: model!reader accidentally exposes their relationship through a soft launch instagram post

tags: model!reader x spencer, penelope included <3, smau

a/n: this is kinda short n pointless but i wanted a reason to write reader tweeting abt spencer and its been in my drafts for weeks so

word count: 1.1k

masterlist

Spencer had worked hard to keep you a secret. 

Not because he wasn’t thrilled to be in your life, because he really, really was. Historically, things had a tendency to go south as soon as word got out, especially when it came to his personal life. 

You had met in a bookstore. It was a short interaction; you were busy debating which translation of The Stranger was most appropriate to read. You must have been standing in the aisle of the bookstore a little too long, holding two copies side by side, when he had offered his two cents on the matter.

Typically, you weren’t one to entertain conversation in public. Nine times out of ten, you’d get one word in before the inevitable “Please can I take a picture? I love your blog so much!”, but this was different. You weren’t even sure he had even seen your face before he started talking to you. He wasn’t initially trying to hit on you, either. He was genuinely excited that someone was willing to listen to him ramble about the differences between the Ward and Guilbert translations, so when you responded in such a way that asked him to continue on, he was surprised. 

That day, you’d left the store with four more books than intended, and a single bookmark where he had written his phone number after you asked for it.  He had asked you for your name; a confirmation that he actually had no idea who you were. 

The rest was history. You saw him whenever possible, spent nights on the phone together, and flew across the country often just to see him. You loved having a relationship that didn’t need to be public, but you were also excited to share bits of it with the world.

It was late at night, and he was sitting at his desk in the bullpen, trying to finish the last of the paperwork he’d been assigned, when he heard commotion from Penelope’s office. He figured it was nothing new; probably just some news about the royal family or one of the real housewives again, but she’d thrown her door open in such a way that it garnered attention from everyone in the office.

“Spencer Reid,” She gripped her phone and rushed across the room with determination. “Do you have something you want to share with me?”

He looked up from his paperwork, furrowing his eyebrows. “What are you talking about?”

“Why are you on my Instagram feed?” She placed her phone on his desk in front of him. 

“I’m not on instagram,” he replied. 

“Oh, but you are,” she said. “You are such a little liar. I can’t wait to tell Derek about this.”

She pushed his paperwork aside, plopping her phone down in front of him. It was a slideshow on instagram. A photo of the most recent bouquet he bought for you. A few from the museum you’d visited together, including several where his hands or shoes were visible, but nothing that really pointed to him. He could almost make the argument Penelope was mistaken, until the last photo, which included just enough of his apartment to confirm her questioning.

“You said you were seeing someone and I thought… someone from a chess tournament, or maybe… oh, I don't know. Literally anyone else? But you bagged a model?” 

“I-” he sighed. “How did you find her?”

“I didn’t find her, Spencer. I’ve followed her for years! I see her posts all the time. I can’t believe you.”

He scrolled down.

liked by @jjareau and others

@yourusername: virginia is for lovers :)                                              posted 12 hours ago

↪ @randomuser1: GIRL STOP TEASING WHO IS HE

↪ @randomuser3: i’ve been trying to figure it out since that tweet last month 😞

↪ @randomuser2: this is the sweetest soft launch i’ve ever seen <3

↪ 12k comments

He clicked onto your profile. 

@yourusername 

5.2M Followers

Followed by @jjareau, @emp.sergio and more

“You’ve got to see her Twitter, lover boy. She’s been gushing about you.”

“Oh, god,” he groans. So much for privacy. He lets her take the phone back, redirecting his attention to your Twitter page. She scrolls back to June before handing it over, letting him read in chronological order.

June 10

@yourusername: hot girl summer is officially over. just asked a man for HIS number.

June 25

@yourusername: is it offensive to men if you call them pretty? bc this man is rlly pretty 

@yourusername: update: apparently it is not :)

July 30:

@yourusername: good morning text + picture of a dog that he claims reminded him of me???? gonna ask for his hand in marriage

August 15

@yourusername: up til 2 bc hes explaining quantum mechanics to me 🧚🏻

@yourusername: embarrassed to say that form of dirty talk worked on me 

August 20

@yourusername: oh btw im a girlfriend now!

↪@yourfan1: look u long enough wtf girl

↪@yourusername: dw im locking him down 🫡

↪@yourfan2: thats OUR man now 💘

“Oh, wow.”

She takes the phone back. “Why didn’t you tell anyone? Or me? Oh, this is great news. You’re bringing her to Rossi’s next, week, right?”

“I- Pen, I have no idea.” He laughs. He watches her type away on the device aggressively. “Are you texting everyone?”

“Yuh-huh. I need to call JJ, like… yesterday. And this isn't the end of this conversation!” She darted back into her office quickly, letting the door fall shut behind her.

He decided his remaining paperwork could wait. He packed his things up in a hurry, and decided to head out of the office, dialing your number on the way out. 

You picked up on the first ring. 

“Hey,” you started. “How was work? Are you heading out?”

“Yeah,” He started. He pushed through the glass doors of the office, staring towards the stairwell. “It was… busy. I just had a really interesting conversation with my coworker.”

“Mhm…” You had been lounging in your hotel room waiting for his call. “About..?”

“You, actually.” He replied. “She follows you on instagram. Apparently most of the office does. She showed me your post today.”

“Oh,” you replied. “Oh god, Spence. I’m sorry. I didn’t think… anyone would be able to tell who you were.”

He laughs. “Yeah, well… I work with some… characters. It’s totally fine, though.”

“Are you sure?” You ask, anxiously.

“Yeah. It was cute,” he replied, smiling to himself as he exited the building. “Tasteful.”

“That's what I wanted,” You reply.

“I thought Twitter was much more interesting, though.”

You froze, cringing. “Oh, god. Tell me you didn't read all of it.

He chuckles. “I skimmed it.”

You groan.