#i love her but my god shes unfinished

[ombekende]

congratulations to Baihe on the tournament ban speedrun

[flamestar126]

Someone has a crush 😗

[onedragonaday]

1/14/24 Dragon Mech from The Lego Ninjago Movie

[scattered-winter]

Have you ever seen the Young Justice cartoon? It’s one of my favorite animated series of all time.

young justice was what got me into dc comics, actually! I've since kinda moved on to other hyperfixations but there was a time where this blog was fully dedicated to yj lmao <3 I have some (unfinished 💔) yj fics on my ao3 that haunt me daily

[mxbitters]

spent the last hour and a half getting emotional watching the dark crystal while my cat also watches the dark crystal but specifically the small animal puppets as they move across the screen lmao

[ursamajori]

ok i’m late with this but the funniest thing about spotify wrapped is when your top song of the year is by an artist you don’t listen to

[likeumeanit9497]

like a pornstar | c.s. |

chris sturniolo x fem!reader

summary: when y/n, chris' best friend, confesses that she has never finished during sex, he decides to change that

warnings: smut; oral (fem receiving); unprotected p in v; dirty talk; established friendship; squirting; 18+

notes: back again with a friends with benefits smut (shh im manifesting). i hope the chris girlies enjoy, and matt girlies don't worry my next one shot is for u ;) love y'all <33333

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

“Hey! You’re gonna eat all the popcorn! Give me some.” I exclaimed before snatching the half eaten bag of popcorn from Chris’ grasp. He tried to say something in a rebuttal, but all he got through his mouthful of popcorn was garbled words and a slight spray of kernels. “Oh god, you’re foul.” I said jokingly before wrapping my leg around his to lighten my words. “Just hush, I can’t hear the show.”

Chris and I had been best friends since elementary school, and had always had a bond like no other. When he had moved out to California a few years ago, I had really struggled with the loss of seeing him practically everyday. But since then, I had been able to come out and visit him multiple times, and it was so exciting to have him show me the new life that him and his brothers had built for themselves on the other side of the country.

In the past, each time I had visited him in Los Angeles the weather had been amazing, so I had forced Chris to explore all over the city with me. However, this visit had been nothing but rain, so him and I had done little more than what we were doing right now: curling up under the covers with some snacks and a couple joints, binge watching all of our favourite shows from high school. We were currently re-watching Euphoria — one of my all time favourite shows — as a light trickle of rain acted as background noise.

As we worked through our snacks, the scene where Maddy and Nate’s relationship dynamic is described played. I popped a handful of popcorn in my mouth, relishing in the nostalgic feeling that the show brought me, as the scene continued on to describe how Maddy watched porn to study how she should look and sound during sex. As the character arched her back on her bed, her eyes plastered to a device playing porn, I let out a small chuckle.

“What?” Chris turned to me with a confused smile. “Nothing. It’s nothing.” I replied, shaking my head and shoving more popcorn into my mouth to stifle my ridiculous laughter. “Brooo, tell me.” He whined, grabbing my shoulder and shaking it jokingly. I rolled my eyes at his dramatics. “Oh my god, fine! I was just laughing because I used to do that.” I finally responded, and Chris turned to me and raised a quizzical eyebrow. “Wait, what?” He brought a fistful of candy to his mouth. “I used to study porn too, not to get off on it or anything, just to like know what I was supposed to do.” I admitted, feeling my cheeks grow warm as Chris just stared blankly at me.

Finally, Chris blinked a few times, pulling himself out of his blank stare to resume eating snacks. “I don’t understand that honestly,” He began, reaching his hand into the popcorn bag between my legs, “I feel like when you’re in the moment all of those sounds and movements and stuff come naturally, don’t they?” I shrugged before responding. “Not for me, to be honest. I’ve never really had any sort of sexual interaction that made me feel good enough to act and sound like a porn star.” I chuckled, keeping the conversation lighthearted. This wasn’t the first time Chris and I had talked about our sexual experiences, so I felt comfortable being honest with him.

But when I fixed my gaze back onto him, I was met with a confused expression. “So does that mean you’ve never…” He dragged out his sentence, seemingly too afraid to complete it, so I saved him the trouble and answered his unfinished question with a solemn shake of my head. At this, his eyebrows shot up in what seemed to be total shock, complete with a dropped jaw. “You’re not serious, Y/n.” He said simply, and I once again shrugged my shoulders. “I mean it’s pretty common for girls to not be able to finish during sex, you know that.” I replied, to which he titled his head to the side and looked off into the distance.

“I guess so, but I’ve personally never ran into that problem before.” He replied, a cheeky smile taking over his face, and I rolled my eyes. “Oh Jesus, well too bad not all men are the Christopher Sturniolo.” I joked, unintentionally stroking his ego before refocusing my gaze on the show. The room was silent for a brief moment, both of us back to watching the show, before Chris spoke up again. “I just think that’s really fucked up. Sex should make both people involved feel good.” I wrapped my leg tighter around his. “Well aren’t you a crowd pleaser.” I joked. Turning to once again face him, I was expecting to be met with his classic grin. But instead, his face was serious; his mouth was set in a straight line and his blue eyes had darkened.

His expression was one I rarely saw, but it made my stomach tighten subconsciously. My throat suddenly felt extremely dry, and I couldn’t speak. My breath hitched when Chris brought a hand under the covers and placed it gently on my bare thigh, rubbing small circles into the skin. And my head began to spin when he shifted his body so that he was completely facing me. “You know, I bet I could make you sound like a porn star.” His poker face was finally replaced with a smirk, this one much more sinister than the one that I usually saw cross his face. He used his hand on my thigh to guide my legs open before brushing a finger just barely against my clothed heat; causing me to gasp. He leaned closer to my frame, already quivering in anticipation, and nibbled gently at my earlobe before whispering.

“Let me make you feel good, Y/n.”

He kept his mouth right there against my ear as he waited for a response, and I could feel his rapid breaths against my skin. My brain was in shambles, and I couldn’t make sense of what was happening. Chris and I had been best friends for so long, but not once had things turned sexual. This was completely uncharted territory for me, and I couldn’t imagine it ending well. But, his hand that was resting in between my trembling thighs and his whispered proposition had already caused my panties to grow damp, so I threw all of my sensibility away by grabbing his jaw, drawing his face to mine, and crashing my lips onto his.

Immediately, Chris worked his lips against mine. They moved in sync as his tongue slipped into my mouth with ease; dancing around my own and filling me with more desire. He brought his other hand under the covers to grab onto my other thigh, where he squeezed harshly before using his grip to pull me up on top of him. Still attacking my mouth with his, he rubbed his hands up and down my body as I straddled him, taking care to focus his attention on my more sensitive parts.

He broke the kiss briefly to pull my oversized t-shirt over my head, before taking a moment to admire my bare chest in his direct line of sight. Without hesitation, he attached his mouth to one of my tits, nibbling and swirling his tongue around my sensitive nipples; causing my body to break out in goosebumps from the sensation. After he took his time on the first, he moved his mouth onto the second, and the new contact caused me to subconsciously grind my pelvis against his thigh; eliciting a moan from me. My erotic sound caused his eyes to shoot open, looking up at my face, before he detached his mouth from my tit to speak. “Real moan?” He asked, his lips swollen, and I nodded my head before grinding my hips against him once more. “F-feels good.” I mumbled, and at that he readjusted himself so that he was sitting up against the headboard; giving me more stability.

“Then keep doing that. Wanna see you feeling good.” He replied, shifting my body so that my core could press right up against the highest point of his thigh. I didn’t hesitate long before resuming my movements, this time moving at a much faster pace; losing myself to the sheer pleasure that the friction of his pants granted me. Chris’ mouth reattached to my nipples, but his eyes never left mine as he took in all of my contorted facial expressions and soft moans. He allowed his lips to travel along my chest up to my neck, where he suckled gently before muttering. “I don’t want you to fake anything, baby, just want you to tell me when it feels good and when it doesn’t. Okay?” I nodded my head frantically, squinting my eyes from the overwhelming pleasure I was feeling.

I looked down to where my body was writhing against him, and even through my shorts and panties I had left a dark patch from my arousal against his grey sweats. Rolling my eyes to the back of my head in bliss, I had never before grown that wet during sex before. I felt my legs begin to weaken around his thigh, and an overwhelming feeling begin to bubble up inside of me. I knew it was my orgasm approaching, but I was hit with a sudden wave of nervousness that was preventing me from reaching it.

“C-Chris, I can’t,” I panted out, and his eyes were immediately on mine. “You can’t what?” He replied, gripping my ass with both hands and helping me grind myself against him. “C-can’t finish.” I replied honestly, feeling my eyes well up with frustrated tears. I had never felt this good in bed with someone before, and still, I couldn’t get myself to cum. “Hey hey, it’s okay,” Chris used his grip on me to stop my movements completely, “It’s an overwhelming feeling, it’s sometimes hard to give in to it.” He brought a hand up to my cheek and stroked it affectionately. “Lie down here.” He patted the space in the bed where I had previously been, and I obliged, resting my head against the pillow.

Once I settled myself, Chris crawled on top of me, resting his weight on one arm. He began kissing me again, this time much slower than the first, and once my heart rate began to slow I took it upon myself to deepen the kiss; pulling his bottom lip gently with my teeth. This elicited a deep moan from Chris, and I felt him grind his clothed member against my core before dragging his mouth down my jaw and neck; leaving harsh kisses in its trail. I watched through droopy eyelids as Chris’ body traveled down my own, and my breathing increased once again when he reached the waistband of my shorts. He toyed with the band for a moment, slipping two fingers under the material before looking back up at me.

“I just want you to relax, lay there, and tell me when you feel good. Can you do that Y/n?” His voice was soft, but it was the unmistakable undertone of gruff arousal laced through it that caused my stomach to flip. I nodded quickly, bringing a hand to his forehead and brushing a few stray hairs back. “Okay.” I replied, causing him to smirk before slowly pulling my shorts and thong down my legs. Once my clothing was completely discarded, Chris encouraged my knees to bend and spread my legs open; exposing my dripping heat completely. “Hmm, so pretty Y/n.” He said lowly, taking in the glistening folds just centimetres from his face.

I watched as he dropped soft kisses along my outer folds before using his hands to spread me open slightly. His mouth inched closer and closer to my aching core, and when he finally connected to it I released a shaky moan. Immediately, he used his tongue to expertly manipulate my clit, causing me to see stars almost instantly. It was clear by his movements that he knew what he was doing, and I had to grip onto his messy curls in order to keep myself in place as he continued. “Is that good baby?” He asked against my bundle of nerves, moving one of his hands from my folds down to my entrance, teasing it in circles as he waited for a response.

“S-so good Chrissy.” I managed to get out before he reattached his lips, this time slowly plunging a digit into me as he continued; causing my hips to buck. “Shh, stay still honey.” He mumbled, still working his tongue and fingers in sync against my heat. The combination of his tongue against my clit and his finger plunging up into my g-spot was staggering, and I was once again feeling the undeniable signs of an upcoming orgasm. Every inch of my skin felt like it was being set on fire, and the pressure in my lower stomach was so intense, it felt like I was going to pee.

I had reached orgasms on my own before, but none had ever had a build up as intense as the one I was currently feeling with Chris. I felt like I could explode, but still, I was struggling to let go once again. “C-Chris, I d-don’t think I — I don’t think I c-can do it.” I cried out, gripping onto his hair like my life depended on it. At this, Chris added a second finger and increased his speed. “Yes you can baby, I know you can. Just breathe and let your body do what it knows to do.” I squeezed my eyes shut from the pressure, and did as he said and released shaky breaths. His movements had the same level of intensity as before, but there was an unspoken level of desperation to them now; clear indication that he wanted to get me there.

Even though it seemed impossible, the pressure inside of me kept getting stronger and stronger. My legs were shaking on either side of his head, and my breaths came out as guttural moans. I felt my body detach from my brain, and I knew I had lost all control over what was going to happen. Just then, the strongest orgasm I had ever felt completely engulfed me, and I could do nothing but cry out in pleasure. My back arched off of the bed, overwhelmed by the extreme sensation. Feverish, strings of erotic notes fell from my mouth, and they could barely be heard over the ringing in my ears.

Mouth agape, I watched in awe as the pressure in my stomach was finally relieved by a rush of fluid shooting from my core. At this, Chris murmured “Oh fuck.” before detaching his lips from my clit and swiftly rubbing it; spraying my fluid all over his face and exposed tongue. My orgasm rippled through me like a tsunami, and left me in a figurative and literal puddle once it died down. Once he drank up all my juices, Chris planted a soft kiss against my clit before dragging his body up mine.

Once he was face to face with me, he gave me a deep kiss. “How was that?” He whispered with a grin on his wet face. Still catching my breath, all I could do was nod. He played with my hair for a moment, tranquility clear on his face, before he suddenly shifted his weight and began climbing off of me. “W-wait.” I said, grabbing hold of his waistband and stopping his movements. He looked down at me with a confused expression, and I wordlessly moved my hand to his crotch, where I was met with what seemed like a painfully hard member. “You’re not gonna fuck me?” I asked, batting my eyelashes innocently as I watched his taken aback expression.

In the blink of an eye, his face darkened once again and he returned to his position above me. “You want me to?” He asked, his face buried in my neck where he peppered it with soft kisses. “Mhmm.” I hummed, using my hand to palm him through his sweats. At that, Chris didn’t hesitate to pull his pants down, leaving his cock exposed. I gasped at its size that had been somewhat disguised when it was still concealed in his sweats, but began pumping my hand up and down as he shuddered in pleasure.

Attaching his lips back onto mine, Chris grabbed onto his shaft and lined it up with my opening. He slid it up and down my folds a few times to collect whatever was left of my previous orgasm, before slowly sliding into me. I gasped at the feeling of my walls stretching around his impressive girth, and we both moaned in unison once he bottomed out. He stayed still for a moment, allowing me to adjust to him, before he began slamming his hips into me.

With his forehead resting against mine, he watched me as I contorted my face into expressions of pleasure, relishing in the feeling of being filled by him. His gruff breathing and occasional deep moans were like music to my ears, and I dug my nails into his bare shoulders to keep him close. “Fuck, your pussy feels so good around me. Not gonna last long.” He groaned, using one of his arms to wrap my leg around his waist. The new angle allowed him to go deeper, and I felt his member slam into my g-spot repeatedly; causing my stomach to fill with that familiar sensation. “Oh god Chris, you’re s-so big.” My voice was coming out squeaky as he continued to pound into me, and he released a harsh moan in response.

I lost myself in the waves of pleasure as they hit me, growing closer to my second orgasm with each of his powerful thrusts. Chris’ gaze on me was so full of lust — clenched jaw, droopy eyes, lower lip trapped in between his teeth — I would have collapsed from its magnitude if I wasn’t already lying down. His motion suddenly shifted from one that was hard and fast to one that was deep and slow, and I couldn’t help but release sharp gasps on each thrusts.

I could tell that I was close to my second orgasm, but he was closer. His breathing was growing more and more rapid, his pace was sloppier, and beads of sweat were dripping down his forehead. As if he was reading my mind, he moaned out. “I-I’m close, want you to cum with me.” My eyes rolled to the back of my head, his words already getting me closer to my high, but I knew I needed to get there faster.

Reaching between us, I found my clit and began rubbing it vigorously. Chris’ eyes followed my hand, and when he realized what I was doing he smirked proudly. “Atta girl.” My action seemed to give him a bit more energy, as his movements began picking up the pace once again; and I found myself on the edge of another orgasm. “Ah fuck, Chris, gonna cum again.” I cried out through my gasps for air just before my second orgasm hit me like a freight train. I felt my walls contract around his swollen member, and that was enough for him to reach his high as well.

Gripping tightly onto my shoulder, Chris plunged his twitching cock in and out of me; driving both of us through our orgasms. I gasped when I felt his fluid shoot deep into me, and savoured the verbal confirmation of his pleasure in my ear. Our moans flew from our mouths in harmony, and it was only once his body stilled above me that I removed my hand from my clit.

We stayed in that position for what could have been hours, catching our breath and falling into the lethargic temperament that always came after sex. Finally, Chris lifted his weight off of me and slid his softening dick out from my core, offering me an apprehensive smile. He stood up and walked into his washroom, coming back over to the bed with a towel to help clean up the mess in between my legs before doing the same to his member. Once I no longer felt like a bowl of jello, I sat up on the bed beside him.

“Well?” He asked, his tone playful as he wiggled his eyebrows awaiting my response. I rolled my eyes before grabbing my top and throwing it over my head. “Would you believe me if I said I faked all of that?” I asked, unable to keep the smile that was toying with the corners of my mouth at bay. He blew air out of his mouth and looked up at the ceiling. “Absolutely not.” He replied, and I laughed. “I hate to gas you up like this, but that really was amazing.” I finally said honestly, resting my head on his bare shoulder.

He chuckled before grabbing my hand and stroking it gently. “Glad to be of service.” He replied, removing his hand from mine and instead wrapping his arm around me completely. “You turned into my little porn star there for a minute.” He followed it up by making high pitched moan sounds, mocking me and breaking the wave of silence that had followed his last comment. I laughed, lifting my head off of his shoulder and coming face-to-face with his goofy smile. “You ever use that against me in the future and I will bite your head off.” I replied, shoving his shoulder gently. “I won’t, swear. But you can use me again in the future if you wish. Y’know, in case you ever want to cum like that again.”

My jaw dropped at his filthy words, but I couldn’t help but feel heat flood to my core once again. Smirking, I raised one quizzical eyebrow. “One more?” I asked, and watched as his face was overtaken by a smirk that mirrored my own. “Lay down and put your legs on my shoulders.”

ᵕᵕᵕᵕ୨♡︎୧ᵕᵕᵕᵕ

[pathologicalreid]

for the fear of falling apart | part one

after hearing her gunpoint confession, your sister pressures you into airing your grievances at Rossi's wedding

part one | part two | part three | part four | part five | epilogue

series masterlist

who? spencer reid x jareau!reader category: angst content warnings: takes place following/during 14x15 "truth or dare", fem!reader, established relationship, mentions roslyn, unresolved conflict, a lot of insecurity, cm violence, i think everyone has a fault in this word count: 2.47k a/n: so this idea popped into my head. i think the concept of spencer dating jj's younger sister is insane and i love it. i hope you like it as well. (i want to write a part two so bad i hate leaving things unresolved). also this is not jj hate that's my girl i loved her even before i loved spencer!!!!

“Please, can you just hear me out?” Your sister pleaded, keeping her voice low so you didn’t take any attention off of the bride and groom.

Bringing your glass to your lips, you shrugged, “I’m not sure this is the right place, Jennifer,” you murmured, looking across the room at your brother-in-law, “I think Will’s looking for you.”

She brushed off your dismissal, “I’ll go over once we figure this out. Let’s go out to the courtyard and talk.”

JJ reached out and gently gripped your elbow, trying to guide you through the French doors of the wedding venue, but you yanked your arm away, crossing your arms in front of your stomach. “It’s rude to leave now, this is a wedding, we’re guests here,” you scolded her, focusing your eyes forward. The ceremony was over, and everyone was mingling, but you refused to be the first to leave. Besides, going home would mean needing to face Spencer – another discussion you didn’t have the energy for.

You knew she hated leaving things unfinished. The both of you could feel the rift between you growing as if the earth was physically shifting beneath your feet. “It would just be for a second,” she urged.

Swallowing thickly, you shook your head, “It’s fifteen years of dirty laundry, Jayg. It’s going to take more than a second to air it out.” You frowned into your newly emptied glass before hauling yourself over to the bar, grateful that she didn’t follow, “Can you make me one of the pink glittery drinks?”

Penelope, the honorary bartender for the evening, nodded reassuringly, taking an already-made beverage from the counter and sliding it over to you, “You look like you could use it,” she observed.

You sighed in concurrence, “You have no idea,” you mumbled as you brought the glass to your lips. The drink itself was a bit of an abomination, so strong that it burnt your nostrils as it went down, “God, that’s strong.”

The technical analyst just laughed, making her way back to the dance floor to meet up with Luke and Matt. Your gaze flickered over other members of the team until you were met with familiar brown eyes.

There had been a ball of dread forming in your stomach ever since you returned from Los Angeles. From where you were standing now, the cut on your boyfriend’s hand that you had preoccupied yourself with seemed inconsequential. You watched him now, in real-time as he glanced between you and your sister, picking up on the tension as you avoided her.

Someone was bound to snap.

Walking away from the bar, you went out into the hallway, finding the nearest door and practically throwing yourself outside. Pulling your hair off the back of your neck with your free hand, you sat down on a moss-covered bench in the courtyard and waited for the cold night air to cool you off.

As expected, you heard the door behind you click. You couldn’t be bothered to look at who it was, if it was important to them, they’d come to you. Sure enough, you remained focused on your drink as Spencer took a seat on the bench next to you, “Aren’t you cold?”

“Alcohol,” you mumbled, “Keeps me warm.”

Not exactly the answer he was going for, but he took it at face value. He was probably more comfortable in his suit than you were in your dress. “Are you feeling alright?”

You thought about lying to him. Telling him that you were just tired, it had been a long week of watching your sister and boyfriend being held hostage in a pawn shop and hunting Everett Lynch on top of your normal caseload, but the thought of holding up that lie just made you feel worse. Taking a large sip of your drink, you took a deep breath before speaking, “Garcia recovered the audio from the CCTV footage inside of the pawn shop. Emily asked me to review the tapes and let her know if I thought there was anything pertinent that should be added to the case files.”

He didn’t respond for a while, knowing exactly what you were getting at but not sure how to further the conversation, “And did you?”

You lifted your glass again, “There wasn’t anything in the tapes that was necessary for the case. I buried the audio files and transcripts and sealed the file.”

“Thank you,” he said, relief evident in his tone.

You, however, frowned at his response, “’Thank you’?” You repeated, an accusation in your voice, “I was scared shitless while the two of you were in there, and all the while my sister was confessing her love for you.”

Spencer was quiet again, rendered speechless by your words. Your description was accurate, if not blunt.

You sniffled, setting your glass down and wrapping your arms around yourself, “I have never felt more humiliated, and no one else can ever know why.” You traced the cobblestones on the ground with your eyes as thoughts continued racing through your head. “God, is this why she pushed us together?”

The door behind you clicked again and you stiffened, closing your eyes when you heard JJ coming out into the courtyard, “Ducky, we need to talk.”

“Don’t fucking call me that,” you snapped at her, standing up and glaring at her. Your childhood nickname rang through your ears. A term of endearment given to you by your oldest sister now grated on your heart, shredding through each chamber. “I do not need to do anything,” you told her, narrowing your gaze.

Tears pricked your eyes, Please, JJ, just give me time to think. I just need a minute. Not everything has to be solved right away.

You were too proud to say the words aloud, but you thought it. You wanted to beg her for time. You wanted to plead with your sister for just a little bit of time to think things through.

She held her hands up in surrender, “I needed to tell Pinkner something that would satisfy him. You know the profile; you know what would’ve happened if I didn’t.”

Yes, and the image of both of them being held at gunpoint would haunt you for years to come, but that still didn’t justify any of it, not to you. Finishing off your drink, you set the crystal glass on the cobblestone bench and faced your sister, “Jennifer,” you said sharply, “Truth or dare?”

Her blue eyes widened as she looked between you and Spencer, who was wisely keeping his mouth shut, “Truth,” she answered, her voice so quiet you could barely hear it.

“Did you mean it?” You asked, the first of your tears finally flooding over your lash line.

You gripped the fabric of your dress in your hands as you waited for her answer, “Yes,” she told you.

Covering your face with your hands, you sighed deeply into them, “Fuck,” you cried. “Fuck, fuck, fuck,” you echoed. None of this made sense to you, JJ was married. JJ and Will were the kind of couple that you could look at and you would know that they belonged together, but now she was saying she had been in love with Spencer this whole time.

White hot tears stung the cold skin on your cheeks as you looked back up at your sister, waiting for her to say something else. “We went on an almost date years ago and nothing else ever came of it. Life just went on moving and we…” Her voice trailed off, either unable to finish her thought or unwilling to share.

“You’re married, JJ,” you said desperately, looking at her and wondering if she had told Will where she was going. “Does Will know? Did you tell him you’ve been stringing him along? Thirteen years in and two kids later?”

She faltered for a moment, and you knew you had hit your mark – it made you sick to your stomach. “No, I love him. I love my boys, you know that.”

You nodded numbly, “Yeah, I do, but I can’t keep going if you’re always going to be longing for what might’ve been.”

“You’re drunk and you don’t know what you’re talking about,” she accused, tapping her right foot anxiously.

JJ might’ve grown up in Roslyn’s shadow, but you grew up in hers. Captain of the varsity soccer team, full-ride athletic scholarship at Pitt, and grad school at Georgetown. All leading up to her joining the bureau at twenty-three. You followed her, believing anywhere was better than Pennsylvania, and this is what it had gotten you. It was exhausting, being the one pushing the boulder up the hill, your hands were scraped, and she couldn’t see it.

Deftly, you wiped at the tears beneath your eyes, “I know exactly what I’m saying. Please, can you try and just look at this from my point of view? My big sister, who I’ve looked up to for my whole life, confessed her feelings for my boyfriend. My boyfriend who she set me up with.” Realization dawned on you, turning to face Spencer, “You were in love with her, and… I’m…” your voice trailed off.

Matching your train of thought, Spencer shook his head, reaching a hand out for yours, but you pulled away from him, “No, honey, please. It’s not like that.”

“You couldn’t have her, and I’m just the next best thing,” you told him miserably. “She met Will and got pregnant and got married and you were so in love with her that you took the off-brand version just to have something.”

Spencer shushed you, watching as tears fell from your cheeks, “I’m with you because I love you, not because of anything else.”

Your chest ached, it felt like someone had thrust their hand in the cavity and was squeezing as tightly as they could. You wanted to believe him. You so, so badly wanted to believe him. “Tell me,” you prompted, “tell me I’m not your second choice.”

“You are not my second choice,” he told you, and you watched. You watched for his tells, any sign at all that he was lying.

You shook your head at him, “Why did you lie to me? About the football game,” you asked him, a semi-permanent frown staying on your face.

He furrowed his brows and stood up in front of you, rubbing your arms up and down to keep you warm, “I didn’t lie to you.”

“You didn’t tell me. Neither of you did. That’s lying by omission, and you both know it,” you said, stepping away from him hesitantly. You didn’t know what to trust; you didn’t know what was real.

Spencer looked back at your sister, but she looked frozen, “It wasn’t a date,” he said simply. “I… I intended for it to be a date, but JJ invited Penelope and that was the end of it. I took it as her not being interested and that’s the truth. Nothing else ever happened between the two of us.”

You watched your sister, her mouth opening and closing as she scrounged for the right thing to say. “I said what I had to in order to survive,” she defended.

Sucking on your back molars, you shrugged helplessly in response, “I know,” you admitted. “I know that you probably planned on taking your truth to the grave with you, but… it’s out, Jayg.”

“I can explain everything to you,” she offered, “Please let me explain, Ducky.”

The desperation in her voice chiseled at your resolve, but it wasn’t enough. “I don’t have it in me,” you admitted. “I’m fresh out of fight and I just wanna go home,” you told her, looking at Spencer who nodded, heading back inside to gather your things.

You sat back down on the bench, propping your chin up on your hand.

“I couldn’t think of anything else to say,” she tried again, her voice gruff from holding back tears.

Shaking your head, you closed your eyes and breathed in the cold winter air, “I don’t really care, JJ. You said it, I heard it, and now you have to deal with it.”

She cleared her throat, “I would deal with it now, but you’re being petulant.”

Looking up at her, you frowned, “I told you inside that I didn’t want to talk about this here. You came outside. You sought me out to talk. Now you’re mad that I’m not being nice about it?” Something new bubbled in your stomach, the pit that had been forming there quickly evolved into anger.

“I was trying to save lives,” she tried again, insisting she was right.

You could live with her being right on that front. She was saving lives, and she needed a truth potent enough to sway the UnSub, but in all of her explanations, she never once apologized about this curveball. “I live with Spencer. I… when I give gifts, they’re signed from the both of us,” you told her. “Sometimes when we can’t sleep at night, we come up with baby names, and you’re in love with him. I asked for time, and you couldn’t give it to me. So, this is what you get.”

With Spencer reappearing at the door, you made your way out of the courtyard, he draped your coat over your shoulders, and you wrapped the wool around yourself as you made your way out. “I told Rossi and Krystall that you were tired, but I think they might have taken it as you had too much to drink,” he explained, opening the passenger side door for the car for you to get in.

A small smile tugged at your throat, “I don’t really care.” Maybe if you had gotten that drunk, your chest wouldn’t hurt so much.

The rest of the ride home was silent, small flurries started floating from the sky, and you watched the way they danced in the streetlights. Once you were home, you got ready for bed, grabbing a pillow off of your bed, and turning to the door, “Where are you going?” Spencer asked, returning from brushing his teeth.

“I’m gonna sleep on the couch,” you told him softly, looking at the pillow that you were clutching in your arms.

He faltered for a moment, obviously taken aback by your decision, “Can we talk tomorrow?”

You frowned, letting your eyes lift to his, when it was dark, his eyes took on a certain kind of melancholia. It hurt to look at tonight. “Sure,” you offered weakly, turning around and heading for the couch.

“Are we gonna be okay?” He asked, fear creeping into his voice. Fear of losing you.

Glancing back at him as you lobbed the pillow on the couch, you gave him a gentle smile, “Yeah, Spence, we’ll figure it out. Just not tonight, okay?”

[ilions-end]

i finished statius' ACHILLEID. thoughts thoughts thoughts:

i knew going in it was a VERY short unfinished epic, but i didn't know it would be FUN?? if i ever get that time machine, FIRST THING i go back and find one publius papinius statius, i lock him in a room, and i'm NOT letting him out until he's finished the achilleid!

achilles is statius' BLORBO in a way neither homer, quintus nor virgil have blorbos. statius likes achilles to be strong and pretty and graceful, but most of all ENDEARING even when he fails. and he fails a lot, because this is him still figuring out how to be an adult, not to mention a prophesied legend literally everyone is waiting for to step up

the one thing that gets tiring is just how many prophecies permeate the achilleid. nothing's left to chance, there are so few unknowns. even ODYSSEUS was aware that from peleus' wedding there would come a child destined to be a central warrior in an upcoming gigantic war.

as it stands, the achilleid is more of a... thetisiad? she is very centered in the narrative (we spend more time looking at things from her point of view than achilles') and there is SO MUCH SYMPATHY for her, oh my gosh!! she loves ONE person, her son, the only worthwhile thing she got out of a traumatizing marriage, and she despairs that he's fated to die young in a silly human war.

also i'm a deidamia defender forever now. so three-dimensional, so clever!

aughhh i love how much characterization statius puts in, even in the small scenes! my favourite example is odysseus and diomedes as they walk up to lycomedes' place (literally just moving characters from A to B). diomedes teases odysseus, and odysseus is delighted to be teased. that night we're told odysseus CAN'T SLEEP because he's too excited about showing off his plan the next morning!

the unveiling of achilles is completely different from the chagrined defeat/"achilles is a fucking idiot" ways i've heard it retold! i love that it's collaborative, it's a mutual triumph. it's just as much achilles (who's been suffering in gender dysphoria hell for a year) longing to be exposed as it is odysseus LIVING for showing everyone (especially diomedes?) how clever he is. it's not just the shield and the spear and the bugle, it's odysseus playing the part of the siren, whispering in achilles' ear that he knows who he is and describing how glorious he will be on the trojan battlefield. it's achilles' grateful relief at being ALLOWED not to pretend anymore as he rips off his own dress even before the bugle calls

also it's very important to me that the moment he's no longer hunching over trying to make himself look small and inoffensive, we're told achilles is taller than both odysseus and diomedes

i KEEP IMAGINING how good statius would have made the rest!! especially because as book ii ends, achilles regards odysseus as a cool uncle; he's the guy who rescued him! i want to think statius would have put in the big mystery quarrel achilles and odysseus are said to have had early in the war, something to drastically change that affection. i want to know how statius would have handled troilus, and the gods. augh statius you roman BLUEBALLER

an assortment of story beats still revolving in my head:

chiron is such a sweetheart!! he's SO gallant with thetis, he's so affectionate with achilles. he HIDES HIS TEARS when achilles leaves, awww

statius writes out phoinix completely. as a phoinix stan i object. sure chiron can raise young achilles, but i NEED phoinix to tend to him as a baby

i enjoy how achilles EXPLODES into a mess of teenagerly hormones when he first sees deidaima. it's so funny that thetis is looking on (and we get my favourite simile of the achilleid, of a herdsman delighting in a young bull snorting and foaming at a beautiful heifer) like "aaaaand there's my son's sexual awakening. i see! well, we can use that" and THAT explains why achilles is so willing to commit to the female disguise

(listen. listen. few things mean more to me than the love between achilles and patroclus. but achilles is a teenage boy at the age when a fucking breeze will give him a boner, and deidamia is the most beautiful and the cleverest of her sisters. i really enjoy a story where achilles and deidamia are neither "fated eternal true love" or one's a sneaky opportunist. it's much more compelling that they're both knots of budding emotions and bodily feedback)

i notice that statius never uses the name pyrrha, he doesn't seem to have a fake name at all, just "achilles' sister"

lycomedes is SO honoured and proud that thetis is entrusting her daughter to him. i feel sorry for lycomedes, he seems so earnest and hasn't done anything to get tricked

the one thing i can't forgive statius for is that after spending SO much time establishing that achilles and deidamia (who knows he's a guy) are genuinely into each other, it feels like statius goes OUT OF HIS WAY assuring us that their first sexual encounter is rape. sure they talk right after, deidamia forgives him, AND i understand there are social rules that makes deidamia more "honourable" and "worthy" when she resists, but like. sigh.

aLONG with the previously mentioned interplay between odysseus and diomedes as they walk up to lycomedes' court, there's a simile where they're both starving wolves on the hunt. so sexy it's almost illegal

the feast scene is SO FUNNY omg. all of achilles' careful feminine training dissolving because odysseus and diomedes are there with their boundless masculinity for him to feed off of. deidamia practically WRESTLING achilles back down on the couch every time he forgets himself and behaves too much like a man. odysseus chatting with lycomedes SPECIFICALLY trying to rile up achilles, and then after the women have left (achilles dragging his feet and looking back, YEARNING for their male company) odysseus specifically praises the maiden's "almost masculine" beauty (because ohh he suspects. he just needs to prove it in the morning. he can't SLEEP for it)

when they depart, achilles earnestly swears to deidamia that no other women shall ever bear his children. i find it interesting as a reminder of the social rules of its era. neither of them expect achilles to be sexually exclusive, just not fathering potential heirs. which again makes me wonder about the contraceptives in ancient greece

on the ship towards aulis, diomedes begs achilles to tell them all about his feats and training with chiron, and achilles is so shy about it! who can blame him! diomedes has a WAY more impressive track record

odysseus is SO good at firing up achilles' outrage at paris even as he's just catching him up on what the war's about. and he's so pleased at how easily achilles' outrage can be directed! you KNOW that would have developed in such an interesting way AUGH THE REST WOULD HAVE BEEN SO GOOD.

[rueclfer]

Can I request a best friends brother touya plssss :)

Ur loser Touya who, canon to your fics, writes in a diary journal is so good and needs a comeback 😭💗

Okay thank you byyyyyeee :P

god i love todosiblings tomfoolery in touya fics!!!! ily anon thank u for loving this loser as much as i do

open up the door // touya todoroki

“Knock knock.” The voice interrupts yours and Fuyumi’s chatter from the other side of her bedroom door.

“What?” Fuyumi calls out, cueing Touya to poke his head through the cracked door, eyes meeting her before your own, in which you quickly darted away. “Can we help you?”

“Yeah, you can actually.” He returns the tone, fully swinging the door open, leaning against the frame. “I hear you losers giggling and shit from all the way down the hall. Don’t you think you two should shut up and go to sleep?”

You look him up and down, eyeing the stretched out flannel pajama pants hanging low on his hips and distressed band tee over his lanky frame. The glossy sheen over his eyes and the state of his hair made it apparent that he had just rolled out of bed, woken up from yours and Fuyumi’s night time antics and gossip.

“It’s barely 12am on a Friday night, Touya.” You cock your eyebrow at him. “Nothing more important to do than to bother us?”

“Tell me, Y/N, what exactly am I interrupting?” He walks into the room, being careful to step over the scattered containers of various beads, rolls of string, and a couple pairs haphazardly throw scissors laying across the floor. “Friendship bracelets? Are you guys 12?” 

You were laying on the floor on your stomach as he approached you and stepped over you with a leg on each side. Touya leans down and looks past your head to see the unfinished bracelet in your hands.

“Whatcha spelling out, huh?” 

“Fuck off.” You huff, slapping his calf to shoo him away.

“Leave us alone” Fuyumi groans. “We’re gonna go to sleep right now, okay?”

“Sleep, don’t sleep, I don’t give a fuck. Just be quiet. Especially you, loudmouth.” He flicks the back of your head before stepping over you towards the door, clicking it behind him.

You and Fuyumi meet each other’s eyes before simultaneously letting out an annoyed sigh.

“Sorry, you know how he is.” Fuyumi huffs. “He’s so annoying sometimes.”

You had a long standing relationship with the Todoroki family. Your friendship with Fuyumi flourished in middle school when you had accidentally snapped her glasses in half during gym class. Luckily, for you two, you were a wizard with duct tape which had not only effectively fixed her frames, but made you two inseparable since. 

“Sometimes?” You scoff, beginning to shove the craft supplies to the side, making room for your floor mattress. “I was seriously planning on marrying into the family one way or another, but you gave me some shit options, Fuy. Introduce me to a cousin or something.

“Settle for him to be with me forever.” She sighs dramatically and shoots you a pout. “If you really loved me, you would.”

Another thing that lingered since you two were kids- the concept of setting you up with her older brother. The idea had always seemed so perfect for her. There you were, someone who got along with the family, the sister she never had, and most importantly, was “good enough” for her brother, who notoriously had a shitty dating history. However, Fuyumi’s fantasy quickly crumbled midway through high school, when Touya suddenly decided that he was too good for anyone- especially his little sister’s best friend.

“Touya’s a fucking prick, Fuy. I really do want to beat the fuck out of him, no joke, and I’m pretty sure the feelings are mutual.”

“Watch it!” She scolds you. “He’s not that bad, or at least not as bad as he used to be.”

“Not as bad? ‘Hey ugly’ is his go-to greeting for me. He acts like my presence is the most inconveniencing thing ever. If we're alone in the same room, he'll avoid me like the plague and then once there's anyone else around, suddenly he wants to annoy me at any given chance.”

“He’s going through a life crisis or something. Be nice.” She warns. “Or else I’ll kick both of your asses. Wake me if you’re up before me, okay? But only if it’s after 10am.” She yawns. “Goodnight.”

“Yeah whatever, g'night." You say and roll your eyes, knowing that you will definitely not be waking her up.

Now with the lights off and you two in your respective beds, all you could do is look up at the glow in the dark stars plastered to the ceiling, and think back on all of your interactions with Touya from the moment you met him to now- from your raging infatuation with him when you first met as children to the growing resentment and annoyance into your late teens.

-

The glaring sunbeam peaking through the curtains hit you right in the eye, effectively waking you up from your deep sleep. Your phone reads 6:54AM. You mentally groaned to yourself before rolling out of your mattress, exiting the dark bedroom with a soft click of the door behind you. On an early Saturday morning like this, the Todoroki household had its rare moments of silent solitude

Padding your way to the bathroom, you were still in a drowsy state, eyes lidded, and the heaviness of a deep sleep weighing on your shoulders. Once the door shuts behind you, you lean against the kitchen sink and rub the sleepiness from your eyes,

"The fuck, Y/N?" The familiar voice snaps you awake. Your vision focuses on the figure standing near the shower. "You pervert, what do you think you're doing?" He exclaims with a growing amused smile.

"Jesus, Touya!" You exclaim, taking a step back against the door. "Ever use a fucking lock before?" You lowly huff, trying to keep your volume down.

"Why would I when no one's ever up this early? Don't you walk around with your eyes open?"

"I just woke up like two seconds ago." You groan. "Why are you just hanging out in the bathroom?"

"Well I was going to shower. Unless you're here to 'beat the fuck out of me?'" He leans against the wall, arms crossed.

"Listening in on our conversation? Who's the pervert now?" You furrow your eyebrows.

"Involuntarily, with your loud mouth and all." He takes a step closer, almost closing the gap and leaving just mere inches of space between you two. "Sounds like you don't like me very much, huh? What happened to that little crush in middle school?" He kept his voice low.

"Fizzled out a long time ago when you started thinking you were too cool for everyone." You press your finger against the middle of his chest. "You're full of yourself, stuck up, infuriating to be around, and you have no reason to not like me when we've known each other for damn near a decade. You're such a dick for no reason."

"You done?" His amused smile grew even wider, making the fury in your stomach grow stronger. "Because I don't have to explain shit to you."

You rub your face in your hands in frustration. "You know what you act like? A 13 year old who thinks being mean to his crush makes them like you back." You cross your arms, almost tip-toeing your way closer to his face. "That must be it, huh? Can't navigate your feelings?"

Touya bit the inside of his cheek.

Before he could retaliate with another venom filled comment, someone on the other side of the door was knocking. Had you two been so loud this early in the morning?

"Y/N?" You recognized the groggy voice. "Are you in there? Can I come in?"

You froze and quickly realized how the situation looked- you and Touya almost pressed up against each other in the bathroom. Alone. After you had just told her all about your disdain for her brother the night before.

You locked your eyes with him. He opened his mouth, ready to respond in your place, in which you quickly slammed your hand over his mouth, and the other on his shoulder. You start pushing him back towards the shower.

"Yeah! I'm in here, give me a second!" You called out over your shoulder.

"What are you doing?" He mouths, taking a step into the shower before he could trip over the ledge.

"Shut up." You whisper back, closing the shower curtain. "Stay." You warn.

You took a glance at yourself in the mirror, silently hoping Fuyumi doesn't notice your flushed cheeks.

"Sorry I was getting ready to shower. Was I being too loud?" You open the door to see her sleepy state of lidded eyes and tousled hair.

"No." She yawns. "I got a migraine, I just need my medication."

You step aside for her to dig through the medicine cabinet for a moment, sending subtle glances to the shower every now and then, hoping Touya doesn't decide to make an appearance.

"By the way," She mumbles. "I was serious about last night. Be nice to Touya, okay? You know he kinda has a crush on you."

"What?" You exclaim a bit too loudly, slapping your hand over your mouth.

She shushes you, putting her finger over her mouth. "You'll wake him. He's a light sleeper." She warns. "But yeah, Natsuo read his diary last week and told me. I think I kinda knew though, since he's so emotionally constipated." She softly chuckles, lightly shaking the migraine medication into her palm.

"What the fuck, Fuyumi?" Your mouth hung open. "Diary? You tell me this now?"

"Well I didn't realize how much you disliked him." She smiles. "Just thought you should know. We'll talk more later, though. I'm going back to sleep. Think about it, and have a good shower."

"Okay.. thanks." You mumble, closing the door behind her.

If you really wanted to, you could let yourself feel mortified for Touya and make an agreement to pretend like that conversation didn't just happen, but you could feel the disgusting pride and ego growing larger by the second as you digested this new information.

Touya rips the shower curtain to the side, stepping out of the shower with a new layer of blush dusted over his cheeks and his wide eyes filled with embarrassment.

"Shut up." He huffs, running a hand through his hair.

"Didn't say anything." You shrug, pressing your lips together to suppress a smirk.

"Keep it that way, then."

He begins to make his way towards the door, in which you promptly block with your body.

"Y/N. Move." He demands, one hand on the handle and the other pressed against the door next to your head.

"Guess I got you figured out after all. You write about me in your diary often?" Your let your smirk grow. "You'd have better luck if you were nicer to your crush, don't you think?"

You could see that pompous facade of his crumble by the second with the way he bit down on his lower lip, cheeks growing into a deeper shade of red, and eyes darting away to avoid your own.

"It's a fucking journal. Not a diary. Let me out. I'm going to go smother that fucking brat with his own pillow."

"Why don't we unpack this here, instead?" You lean back onto the door, preventing him from pulling it open. "If you like me so much, why are you such a dick?"

A beat of silence passes as he releases a long sigh.

"I-" He starts, staring down at you with a sheepish expression. "don't mean to be an asshole. I just get nervous, okay?" His voice falters towards the end.

You cock an eyebrow at him. "Nervous? How does that make sense or justify anything?"

"Because I can't think straight whenever you're around. Which is all the fucking time."

You didn't think far enough ahead as to how you could navigate this. You questioned if this could even be considered a confession or where things would go between you two when you eventually let him out of the bathroom.

"We were fine when we were kids, though?"

"I didn't like you when we were kids." He huffs.

"So a few years ago? When you started acting like an ass?"

"I guess." He mutters. "Can you move over now?"

"I give you one chance." You cross your arms.

"Huh?"

"To apologize, confess and ask me out. Properly."

"Right now?" His eyes widened, mouth gaped open.

"Yup, or forever hold your peace and watch me get with one of your cousins or something."

"You'd actually go out with me?" He asks under his breath.

"Ask me and find out." You shrug.

He pressed his lips together, continuing to stare down at you with furrowed brows- of course you stared back in annoyance. You thought that he already had the easy way out, thanks to Fuyumi, so this hesitation only made you more anxious.

A voice in the back of your head had started pounding through the front. It was your 10 year old self. They're making your stomach twist in anticipation. They're making your heart race. They're making your hands clam up. They're hoping he'd do it.

But he wasn't.

"Okay, guess not then. I'm leaving." You suddenly blurt out, turning to grab the handle.

"Wait." He places his hand over the door frame, preventing it from pulling open. "Give me a fucking second okay? I feel like I can barely breathe."

He puts both hands on your shoulder, expelling a long breath of air to the side. You tense at the sudden physical contact, feeling the warmth of the palms of his hands melt into you.

"I'm sorry for being a dick to you. I'm sorry for not knowing how to act around you. I'm not sure I deserve it, but can you... give me a chance?" He spills out through clenched teeth, all in one breath.

His face was still flushed and expression was almost pained. You knew you backed him up in a corner but if he had this crush for a few years, was he ever planning on telling you?

"I know you had a crush on me when we first met as kids, and I know you definitely don't anymore, but if you want to give me a chance then I guess that would be.. cool." He sheepishly says, sucking in the inside of his cheek.

"You guess?" You cock your head to the side.

"You're fucking killing me, Y/N. That's seriously the best I can do at 7am right now." He deadpans. "Yes or no- before I start panicking."

You pause for a moment, taking in the weight of his hands on your shoulder and intense eye contact.

"I'll go out with you."

"Really?" His eyes widen, and grip tightening. "After everything? You will?"

You nod your head, slightly taken off guard by his surprise.

"Cool. Cool. Okay." He takes a step back, bringing his hands back to his side and shoving them in his pajama pants pocket, giving you space to take your exit. "Um. I'll keep you updated on that date then? When I figure it out?" He sheepishly rubs the back of his neck.

"Cool." You say, still standing idly.

"Cool." He responds, pressing his lips together in a tight line

"Don't make it weird, okay?" You huff. "I don't want to tell Fuy yet."

"No weirdness here." He awkwardly smiles, now fiddling with the hem of his shirt.

"Okay we're done here." You teasingly roll your eyes. "You're being weird, so I'm leaving. See you in a few hours, loser."

You two exchanged shy smiles and glances before you made your exit, letting out an audible breath of air after shutting the door behind you. Later that morning, after his shower and getting ready for the day, Touya would find a beaded bracelet hanging on his bedroom's door handle, reading "T O U Y A < 3" in which he slipped over his wrist and would glance down at all day, reminding himself not to fuck it up.

[jockwrites]

DIE FOR ME - p.b

warnings: sexual content (reader receiving, strap LOL) angst if you squint, cursing, pet names? i guess?

a/n: not spell checked & english isn’t my first language, lmk how i did :-)

"good God."

those were the last words you heard Paige say before she stormed out of your apartment.

previously, the two of you had been arguing over the fact that for these past two weeks, you'd been suspecting cheating.

today, the topic had been brought back up when she came to your apartment late after practice. even though she'd told you she would be there immediately after. honestly, you just couldn't understand what's been keeping her away from you so fucking late.

you wanna decide to call it a night after she just stormed the fuck out, but you need to find out what's been happening. that's when you decide to find out for yourself.

you put on a jacket over your shorts and tee, grab your keys and head out.

while walking, you decide to check her location. and what do you know, it’s off.

this pissed you cleannnn off. & with your pace becoming faster and faster with each second that passes, her dorms come into view. you don’t waste a second getting into that building.

you hurrily walk to the elevator, eager to get up to that room.

as soon as you make it, not only do you knock once, but twice. and not a single peep heard from behind that door.

as you begin to knock again, the door opens. and it’s her. you’re outraged, angry, so many words to describe your feelings as of right now.

“why the hell is your location off,” you bickered, “and why didn’t you answer the door when i knocked the first TWO times?”

paige just stood there. she didn’t say a word, and this is what made you more frustrated.

as you’re going on and on about how furious you are, paige grabs you by the arm, pulling you into the apartment. she doesn’t say a word to you.

she pushes you against the wall, kissing your neck. and this, this put you into a trance you probably wouldn’t be able to get yourself out of.

her touch becomes more aggressive as you push on her chest, trying to get her to stop. right now you’re serious. but she’s irresistible

“are you pushing me away?” paige whispers into your neck.

“so now you wanna talk..” you scoff, breathing heavy.

“there’s nothing to say. you’re just delusional. you get these petty accusations, put them onto me, then expect me to just sit there and take it.” she slides her hand dangerously low down your shorts.

“i don’t expe..” you’re cut off by her fingers sliding into you.

“i don’t understand why you wanna start shit so bad,” her words sharp, vibrating into your neck as her kisses go lower and her pace increasing. “because if you want me to be a ‘bitch’, i can.”

“you just..” she grabs your right boob, groping as her fingers curl into you while kissing your jawline, leaving hickeys that’ll probably be there for the next day or two. “you just think shit is a game. it isn’t.”

“paige.. that’s not-“ you moan breathlessly, your words cut off by her lips colliding with yours.

“no no.. i know exactly what you’re trying to do.”

you love it when she’s like this. all mad & messed up when it comes to you, damn.

“maybe we should just drop it.” you begged, the pleasure and anger she’s bringing to you becoming overstimulating. you don’t know if she’s mad or horny. maybe both.

“you’re such a fucking brat,” she jeered, “you start shit but can’t finish it.”

her fingers are now pumping faster, her other hand coming up to the side of your neck. she’s practically choking you.

arguing and sex isn’t something you thought you’d been missing out on, guess you were wrong.

“fuck. paige. im sorry, i wasn’t trying to.”

“there’s no time for apologies. you did this shit.” she huffs, pulling her fingers out of you.

she licks them clean, looking you dead in the eyes. you’re left with an unfinished orgasm and now you’re aching for her touch. all that’s left is to see what’s she gonna do next.

“go.” she tempted.

“what? where?”

“in the fucking room. go.”

you walk to the room, opening the door. you see her messy bed, clothes on the floor, shoes everywhere and her phone. the phone you’ve been eager to check.

you sit on the bed, taking off your jacket. you slip off your shoes and throw them in a random corner while waiting for paige.

she walks in the room with nothing but a sports bra and white basketball shorts. she looks good, but heated.

she starts to walk toward you slowly with that look. that look, as if you’re some kind of prey.

“you done being a brat?” she whispers.

“i wasn’t being a brat in the first fucking place,” you sassed. “you’re just crazy.”

that’s when she walks over, pushing you down onto the bed. she’s hovering over you, angry and tempted.

“you thinks it’s okay to just act like a bitch all the time? accusing me of shit you know damn well i haven’t done?” now she’s mad. you’ve pushed her to her limits.

“take them off” she snarled, her eyes roaming to your shorts.

you quickly abide, slipping off your shorts. you already know the timing she’s on.

she takes off hers as well, revealing the purple strap harnessed to her.

“what. is that.” you panted. she’s never fucked you with a strap-on before, her fingers and mouth is just enough for you.

“what do you think it is?” she’s trying to be funny but you’ve never experienced anything like this before. you’re a virgin to “dick.”

“i’ve never- done this before.” you manage to breathe out. even though it’s scary, you want it. you want it to be with her, nobody else.

“you wanna do it? we don’t have to baby.” she gazes at you softly. it’s so attractive how she can go from mean to sweet. you love it.

“yeah, but only with you.” and as soon as those words left your mouth, her eyes went from a bright blue to grey.

she pulls your panties down your legs, revealing your soaked pussy.

“so wet for me already baby,” she purred, “not like this for anybody else hmm?”

“no, never.” you breathed as paige rubbed the tip of the plastic over your wet clit.

“fuck,” she urged “you know you can be a bitch sometimes?” she slides the strap into you, going at a slow pace.

“fuck- mm, i know pai..” you can’t manage to get words out at this point. the pleasure is unbearable.

as her pace speeds up, she grabs your legs, pulling them over her shoulders & around her neck.

as she hovers over you while fucking you senseless in missionary, she pulls her right arm over to rub your clit.

“you think i’d do this with another girl? huh?” she groans.

“HOLY SHIT. paige oh my-“ you whine.

“fuck,” she says, her pace speeding up. “you think im out here fucking other bitches senseless?”

she speeds up, pounding into you with the purple plastic. she removes her hand from your clit, inserting the thumb she used between your lips.

“fuck paige! shit im gonna cum” you moan.

“answer me. you think im doing that shit?” she growls.

she starts to go faster and faster, pumping in and out of you like a mad man.

“no pai- FUCK!” you panted.

“based on those fucking accusations,” she heaved, “you seem to be pretty stuck on that fucking- fuck. stuck on that ‘cheating’ shit.” she groaned. with every second that passes, she speeds up. seems like she’s angry.

“paige. im gonna CUM. OHSHIT” you whimper. the pleasure is starting to become overwhelming.

“then cum baby.” she leans down, whispering in your ear.

paige speeds up more and more, hitting the spot that makes you release all over “her.”

“you okay baby?” she says, collapsing beside you.

“you’re good at that.” you breathed.

she turns over to look at you, pushing your hair behind your ear.

“i love you, so much. you see the shit i just did? wouldn’t be caught dead doing that to someone else. i’d die for you.”

a/n: hi im stopping here bc idk what else to write. this isn’t rlly that good so if u have requests or suggestions (constructive criticism) i’d be happy to take them! ty for reading if u even made it this far, byebye

[writteninkat]

MHA GUYS' FAVORITE PUBLIC PLACES TO FUCK YOU

w/ Bakugou, Kirishima, Todoroki, Kaminari

warning: smut, nsfw, exhibitionism, oral(f!reader & m!characters receiving), unprotected sex

a/n: sorry denki's seemed super rushed i have a terrible headache and i have a feeling leaving this unfinished won't help:")

navigation

KATSUKI BAKUGOU

this man loves taking you in high places.

balconies, rooftops, pressing you against the floor to ceiling windows of his office located at the very top floor.

there's something about your moans travelling long distances that has him thinking—that's right, extras. listen to how good i make my girl feel. she's just for me, though. feel free to listen as i fuck her so good.

mmhmm, he loves to show off. he loves to show you off.

that's why your breasts are constantly being pressed against his office windows whenever you visit him during lunch

"imagine the fuckers looking up at you right now." he growls in your ear as his fingers busy themselves on your clit, your eyes rolling back in ecstacy as the simple thought of a stranger witnessing this act have you gushing

"yeah that's right, you loving showing others what a slut you are for me, right?" he sucks on the side of your neck, flicking on your clit making your legs wobble in bliss.

at home? your back is digging against the railings of your balcony as your boyfriend sucks on your tits, your fingers swimming through his blond locks with your legs locked around his waist, heels pressing against his round ass

"oh god! oh my fucking god!" you moan loudly, hoping your neighbors hear. hoping they know just how amazing of a fuck pro hero dynamight gives.

"yeah, call for your god all you want baby, i'll still eat you up." katsuki growls, sinking his teeth on the crook of your neck, the pain pushing an orgasm out of you

EIJIROU KIRISHIMA

the obsession this man has with going grocery shopping with you is unparalleled

mainly because he gets to finger and tongue fuck you in every hidden corner you find at the store

"fuck- fuck, eiji!" you gasp loudly, looking around to make sure no one walks in on your boyfriend on his knees in front of you with your leg propper on his shoulder as you press onto the wall, hoping you wont topple over

in the scary case of the act being seen or worse- videotaped, the only person being recognized will be you, as eijirou's head is covered by the flowy skirt of your dress. and that has you grinding your hips on his mouth

"jesus christ, i'm gonna cum baby!" you whisper, feeling his tongue thrusting inside you as he sucks on your clit, electricity running up your spine as you near the top

"c'mon baby," you hear your boyfriend's muffled voice feom underneath you, "cum for me, lemme drink that sweet, sweet juice."

and you do. once a good girl, always a good girl. you can never say no to the sweet boy between your legs.

but the grocery isn't the only place eijirou loves visiting with you.

taking a stroll at the park in the dead of night will have you on your knees behind a tree with your hands tied behind your back by whatever your boyfriend brings or finds.

tonight, he found an unused handkerchief in his pocket, and decided to make use of it.

"god, fuck, baby..." his moans inspire you to take him deeper, watching him through your lashes as he tilts his head back, pressing it against the tree

"fuck, that mouth should be considered a sin." he grunts, tightening his grip on your hair as he moves you himself

his hips move on their own, his hip moving in your throat as your vision begins to dim with the lack of oxygen

"swallow me up baby, lemme feel your throat tightening around me."

and you do as you're told, using the last bit of your energy to swallow him as bast as you can, feeling him burst with thick, hot cum inside

SHOTO TODOROKI

oh how he loves it when you ride him in any of his cars, but he absolutely goes feral when you choose to take the tesla

it means he can shift it to auto and have nothing to worry about. he loves the way his surroundings move past him as your tits bounce above him, your hips shaking in circular motions

it's one of the reasons he lightened his tints. just light enough for the people outside to make out what's going on, but dark enough for your face to be concealed

he lied about others being able to see you though. he knows you want to be seen, but he'll kill before someone gets to see you in this state

"fuck, oh fuck, sho!" you whine, "god fuck your dick feels so good!"

shoto grits his teeth, taking a handful of your tit as the other squeezes your waist, guiding you up and down his shaft

"give them a great show, baby. let them see what they're missing." he urges, allowing your back to arch as your scream in your euphoric state.

the both of you shake the car as it drives, selfishly chasing your own highs until your walls clamp around shoto, milking him for what he's worth

you think that's all? he goes feral whenever he fucks you on his office desk with his door unlocked

as one of the most demanded heros, he always has people calling for him. on the phone, or in person

when he's in the middle of abusing your cunt and his phone rings off? he looks at you in expectation, urging you to answer the call for him

without his rough pace faltering, you sink your teeth on your bottom lip, pressing the 'answer' button and putting the call on speaker

"good morning, mr. todoroki! regarding the press conference..." the caller blabs on about boring details you could barely comprehend as you focus on staying silent.

"mmm," your eyes widen as your boyfriend moans. "i think that venue will be perfect. what does dynamight and deku think about it?"

"they already gave the go signal, sir! mr. dynamight even told me not to call him about such trivial matters..." the man laughs awkwardly throught the phone.

as you feel your orgasm near you, your squeeze on shoto's bicep, alerting him

the fucker simply smirks at you before saying a few more words to the call, your muscles seizing up at the difficulty of holding your orgasm in

as soon as you hear the familiar beep of ending a call, your back archs as pleasure takes over your mind and body

"fuck! you're squeezing me so tightly baby." shoto gasps but you pay him no mind as your eyes roll to the back of your head, core tightening as your hips move on their own, hoping for a better high

as you begin to calm down, your breasts rise and fall rapidly as your hair stick to your forehead. shoto presses a soft kiss on your forehead before slowly pulling out, hissing

you make out the lewd feeling of his cum dripping out of you, making you want for a second round

three knocks are heard on his office doors before a familiar voice announces, "i'm coming in."

you immediately roll over, dropping to your hands and knees as you thank you boyfriend for installing soft as shit carpets. the same boyfriend who had already fixed himself up and is now chatting with Iida like you aren't hidden behind his desk, boobs out and cunt dripping of cum

DENKI KAMINARI

apart from being a hero, your boyfriend likes to play games and interact with his fans through livestreams

and every now and then, when he's being too loud, you like to shut him up by crawling undreneath his table and pulling his sweatpants down

"heal! i need someone to heal me-" your movements cut him off, making him snap his head down at you. eyes wide and jaw slack, a moment of silence passes and you thank every higher being for the peace and quiet before it's being taken away once again

"sorry, lost connection. i'm still dying, you guys!"

you roll your eyes, fully pulling his pants down, surprised at the sight of him already hard. one thing about your boyfriend? everything you do gets him hard.

your mouth waters at the precum leaking from his tip, your tongue immediately darting over to lick it off

you hear denki hiss before telling whoever he's playing with "don't worry about it, stubbed my toe"

you wrap your lips around the tip, looking up to see your boyfriend smiling widely with a deep blush across his cheeks

swirling your tongue around his bulbous head, you suck softly, earning a hiss from him before wiping your tongue over the slit

"huh? yeah, no yeah i'm fine" the continuous sounds of buttons being pressed give you the go signal to finally take him properly inside your mouth

"fuck-" he hisses the moment his head presses against the back of your throat, clearing his throat when your fingers dance towards his balls, cupping them

"i mean, fuck i'm sorry i missed, guys. maybe i should stop the game-" you squeeze the bas of his cock in warning

denki's jaw hardens with his eyes still trained to his screen. he knew if he looked down again, he'll be raising suspicions from his viewers

"nevermind, let's just finish this as soon as we can. 'm gettin' tired." you're unsure whether he's talking to you or his friends anymore, but you continue bobbing your head, making sure you don't hit the table

"guys! guys!" he pants, his grip on his controller tight as his thighs flex

"sorry- i just need medic!" he tries covering up his actions

your boyfriend is the kind who moans the entire house down. he needs to tell you how good you feel, he needs to tell you when he's about to cum and when he is cumming. he's simply a vocal lover, and when he doesn't have the freedom to do that, it fucks with his head

"so fucking good," he pants, "this game is so fucking good you guys!" that was a weak ass save

your tongue runs up the underside of his cock before taking him whole inside your mouth once more, his hisses and occassional huffs like music to your ears

his jaw continues to grind as his fingertips whiten with how hard he's gripping his controller

you play with his balls, watching his brows furrow. he's pissed.

aggressively tapping on the buttons, a moment passes when his undivided attention is on his screen before he slams his controller on his desk. "we won, i hard carried you motherfuckers, thanks for watching, see you all never."

he says it all so quickly before turning the live off, you barely have any time to think when he stands up, pulling you up with him

he spins you around, pushing you against his desk as he fiddles with his mouse, opening the camera app on his desktop

without another word, your boyfriend pushes himself inside you needy cunt, squeezing your nape as he begins to fuck you roughly, hips snappy

"think that was a good idea teasing me like that?" denki asks as he looks at you through his screen, watching your expression slowly fall at the feeling of your orgasm building

"this'd be what they'll see, baby. this'll be how you look like." he says, cupping your jaw and angling it straigh to make sure you see how bad he's wrecking you right now

"a hundred and fifty thousand people would see my pretty girl being fucked like the dirty slut she is." he bites on the corner of your ear, making you gasp. "and she'd love it."

and that was true. the thought of hundreds upon thousands of people watching denki have his way with you would fix a hundred and one of your problems

denki's thrusts become rougher, his desk moving and his equipment shaking as he pulls back, wrapping your hair around his fist, pulling on it tightly

"yeah, fuck yeah. you were made for me, baby." your response comes in loud moans and breathy whines, feeling your orgasm slowly bloom in your belly

"denki! fuck, denki!"

"gonna come for me, pretty girl?" you reply with an eager nod, earning a vile chuckle from him.

"then come all over this cock baby, i'll be right there behind you."

denki was not, in fact, right there behind you. the feeling of his thick, hot load is what pushes you over the edge

you turn around, glaring at the blond as he rolls his eyes sassily. "oh, shut up. my dick was being tortured way longer."

without pulling out, he carries you by your thighs, your back pressing against his chest. he walks over to your shared bed, setting you down softly before the both of you lay on your sides

he pulls the blanket on your bodies, pressing a light kiss on the side of your forehead before telling you he loves you

uhuh. he isn' as much of an exhibitionist as the other guys, but he's addicted to cockwarming

[aouiaa]

Loser!Ellie Hcs

Imagining Loser! Ellie who makes fart noises with her mouth when you bend down to pick up something, and makes fun of you for “farting.”

“Ewww, that one was nasty!”

A scoff leaves your mouth as you stand up, looking back to send a death stare her way to which makes her walk over to you, giggling.

“It’s okay, everyone farts.” she says with a cheeky grin.

An eye roll from you further causes Ellie to full on laugh and wrap her arms around your waist, pressing kisses to your neck.

She would be so silly with it too. Finding different ways to comment on you “farting.”

“That’s some narly tooting there, babe.”

“Woof, another left the cannon!” she says, pinching her nose while actually fanning the air to shooing away the smell as if it was real.

“A bomb just dropped, take cover!”

Imagining Loser! Ellie who invites you over to her house when you first started dating to review her concerningly large comic book collection.

“How many do you have?!” you exclaim, looking over the many boxes filled with comics.

“I had to do some things to acquire such items that I rather not corrupt your mind with.” she says in a rather poor attempt of sounding suspicious and menacing.

“God, you’re such a loser! you laugh, and watch as Ellie immediately drops the act and turns into a big giant tomato.

A little shy “no” leaves her lips to which makes you smile and lean over to kiss her, “It’s okay, you’re my loser.”

Imagining Loser! Ellie who also has a smaller collection of space related books than the rather getting out-of-hand comic collection.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who has the deadliest grip over the last chicken while sending a death stare your way when you do that one trend on her to see if she’d grab her phone instead.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who’s laughing to the point there’s tears in her eyes when she suggested the both of you paint each other. And when revealed, hers was very detailed and while yours…’was insteresting.’ Ellie’s words…

Imagining Loser! Ellie who makes fun of people who dress “cringe”, but also wears this.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who write love songs for you in her little journal of hers and even plays them on her guitar. You’ve even caught her once.

Upon walking into your home, you hear muffled talking or singing. Presuming it’s Ellie, you walk into the room to see her with gutiar in hand. Immediately when she sees you she stops what she’s doing and look up, her face turning red.

“Oh—shit, you’re home early…” she says, laughing nervously, settling her guitar aside and greeting you with a hug and kiss as usual.

A little laugh leaves your lips as you reciprocate the greeting and ask, “What were you doing?”

She pulls away from the embrace and looks down upon hearing the question. Playing with her pinky and ring finger, she responds, “Oh, ya’ know—just…playing.”

“Just playing? But I heard you singing.”

An audible gulp is heard from the nervous girl as she looks up at you, “I was writing a song.” she finally admits.

A wave of surprise washed over you, “Oh—wow. Can…I hear it?”

“Uhh, maybe later..”

You chuckle and nod, “Alright then, my little musician. You can work on!” you quip.

A nervous smile presents itself on Ellie’s lips, “Shut up.”

Loser! Ellie who does let you listen to the song, but is stuttering and messing up the whole time!—Poor girl, you make her nervous :(—To which earns her a kiss on the cheek and a “You got this, baby. Just relax” To which she actually does! She Some might say it was the kiss that did it.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who has a special spot in her journal filled with doodles of you.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who has multiple unfinished paintings of you that with time will be finished, just has to find time in her super busy schedule—that consists of sleeping and bothering you—to finish them.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who sleeps with stuffed animals.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who HAS to absolutely listen to music when doing anything, literally doesn’t matter it could be showering, dishes, getting ready, etc. There’s music playing.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who’s a big ‘Savage Starlight’ nerd and actually at some point sent in one of her best fanart to the official insta page, but never got a response. :(

But the girl can’t take failure as an option and is still hopeful saying, “They’ll open my message…eventually.” with a sad little huff.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who’s screaming from the bathroom when she actually gets a response back!

You knock frantically on the door to startled by the screaming and when she does finally open the door you’re met with her phone being shoved into your face, “Look, Look, Look!”

A slightly irritated sigh leaves your lips as you look at Ellies phone—which has mysterious residue stains on it—and see the instagram post.

Once reading the caption praising Ellie for her work, you look up from the phone and at her, “I thought you were getting killed, Ellie! God…”

“Aweeee, you care about me?” she says, putting her hands on her chest.

“No, I came to make sure they finished the job.” you reply with a cheeky grin.

“Oh wow…well in that case, gimme my phone and get out!” she frowns.

You roll my eyes playfully and chuckle, giving back her phone, “Make sure to flush.” you say, closing the door.

“That was one time!” you hear a muffled shout.

Imagining Loser! Ellie whose phone is filled with multiple pictures of you. Some of you, sleeping, doing chores around the house, cooking—and some with you seeming to be yelling at her in the photo for not helping, and terrible pictures of you that you beg her to delete, but she protests saying they’re “beautiful” to her.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who steals your chapstick since she always loses her’s within a few days of having it.

“Ellie?” you call out, searching in your nightstand for your chapstick.

“Yeah, babe?” you hear her voice become more clearly as she walks into the bedroom.

“Have you seen my chapstick? My lips are terribly dry…” you huff, unable to find it in your clutter.

“Uhh, no.”

*Imagine her in the background, sneakily swiping your chapstick back and forth on her lips as you annoyedly rummage through your stuff for it.* LMAOOO

Imagining Loser! Ellie who does feel bad and buys you a ten pack of chapstick, stealing one of course for herself.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who buys those princess or even soda chapstick ones.

(Okay i’ll stop talking about chapsticks…😭)

Imagining Loser! Ellie who seems to never drink water, but instead drinks like Arizona, Dr. Pepper, or Canada-dry, etc.

Imagining Loser! Ellie who’s rather disgusting when eating. Having dried up residue on the side of her mouth from dinner which was hours ago only to lick it off.

“Mmm, that burger was good.”

“You’re disgusting.”

Imagining Loser! Ellie who sometimes, but not all the time, thinks about how lucky she is/was to get—or “pull” as she says to her friends—someone like you.

Loser! Ellie who loves you for loving her despite her quirks!

How you can help Palestine, Why you shouldn’t support tlou/ buy the remastered, Educate yourself, #FREEPALESTINE.

a/n; Who wants Dina or Abby hcs? 🤭

Perm taglist: @elliesprettygirl, @dyk3ang3l, @ellies2fingers, @r3starttt, @slut4mascss, @k1ssesworld

Ellie Only fics: @herelieskrisy, @mikellie , @slaysksmska, @mina-281, @teawithnosugar, @kitkatkittycat111

[st4rgzer]

now playing…DOWN BAD (spencer reid)

summary: in which passion takes a form of frustration when you can’t have what you want, the object of your adoration being spencer reid.

genre: fluff/angst

cw!: making out

a/n: i literally just wrote this, i apologize if it looks unfinished but i think that’s the vibe of the song! masterlist

you desperately tried to not look at spencer, strands of hair framing his face so effortlessly. the way his lips moved when he talked intricately about anything he could think of. his voice was sweet and melodic, you could hardly focus on what he was saying, though. he looks golden. rays of light hitting his honey eyes, the sun echoes through them. you can’t help but remember what happened the night before, if his eidetic memory had replayed that moment in his mind, like you had done.

his nose brushed against yours, mouth hovering over your lips momentarily. your breath short and expectant.

“you know i adore you” he spoke, his hot breath bringing heat to your cheeks. you are desperate to pull apart, to break eye contact. but it’s impossible, you’re helpless.

“you do?” your voice was breathy, eager and soft.

he nodded. you glanced at his lips momentarily. he ran his thumb over yours, tracing the shape of them. before dipping his head and placing one gentle kiss upon your lips. this didn’t last long, sweet short kisses turning into long and wanting ones. his hands came up from your hips to the side of your face, grabbing your jaw and kissing you like a starved man.

his teeth clashed against yours. messy kisses and breathless sounds filled the room, his tongue chased yours. you bit his lower lip slightly, earning a groan from him. his thumb caressed your cheek softly, contrasting the heat and passion of his kiss. before anything else could happen, he pulled apart.

your chest heaved at the absence of air you had just experienced, wondering why he had pulled apart so urgently.

“wait” he warned you, as you leaned in slightly, tugging on the hem of his shirt.

“we-we can’t do this” he sat up, shaking his head, mumbling incoherent words.

“what- why?” you whined, looking up as he straightened his tie and grabbed his blazer from the arm of the couch.

“it’s wrong- we’re coworkers for gods sake” he almost sounded like he was trying to convince himself rather than you. sighing as he looked at your disheveled state, lips swollen and hair fuzzy. his brows creased as he forced himself to look away and turn around.

“no, that’s not fair, you said!-“ you got up, hurriedly chasing after him. you grabbed his arm, making him pay attention to you.

“that is not fair spencer. there isn’t any reason why being coworkers has to prevent this from being something!” you begged, vulnerability seeping through you.

his eyes scanned you and for a second, you could see him falter. but he turned around and closed the door on his way out.

you were left there perplexed, brows furrowed trying to pinpoint something that went wrong. trying to figure out what was going through his mind.

‘for a moment i knew cosmic love. now i’m down bad crying at the gym, everything comes out teenage petulance.’

“fuck it if i can’t have him, i might just die it would make no difference” you complained to penelope, eyes puffy from your previous breakdown.

“sweetheart, don’t say that! i’m sure he has a good reason, and if he doesn’t, fuck him.” she rubbed your shoulder reassuringly.

“yeah that’s exactly what i want!” you cried, foolishly behaving like a teenage girl, understandably though.

“oh my god” pen sighed, dragging her hand across her face.

how dare he think it’s romantic, leaving you safe and stranded?

taglist: @ilovesadiesink @sp3ncelle @lvtilzs

*comment to be added*

[normatural]

Echoes of Souls | A.T

Pairing: Aemond Targaryen x f!reader

Summary: In the old, abandoned castle, she found a love letter addressed to her, written by someone who died a century ago.

Word Count: 627

A/N: This is going to be a multi-chapter story so let me know if you'd like to be added to the taglist. Feedback is always welcome. English isn't my first language so excuse any mistakes but feel free to point them out to help me improve.

Prologue

As you ventured deeper into the old castle’s darkened heart, the wooden floors creaked under your weight. Moonlight spilled through the gaps in the boarded-up windows, casting eerie patterns on the walls. Your footsteps echoed in the vast, empty halls - a reminder of the life that once filled these rooms. In its prime, the castle must have been a sight of power and strength but now only its ruins stood with the remains of what it once was.

In a forgotten corner, behind a luxurious, albeit faded, tapestry was a small, concealed door. Intrigued, you pushed it open, revealing a hidden study. Dust motes danced in the beam of your phone’s lantern as you surveyed the room. Your eyes fell upon an ancient and elegant desk, covered in a thick layer of dust. Something gleamed faintly beneath the grime.

Clearing the dust with gentle, careful strokes, you noticed an old, ornate inkwell and an unfinished letter. But it was the sealed envelope that captured your attention. You picked it up, the paper fragile and yellowed with age. You broke the seal with trembling hands and unfolded the letter, eyes scanning the elegant, flowing script.

As your eyes scanned the words, you could scarcely believe your vision. The letter was addressed to you, bearing an unknown name that sent shivers down your spine. It was a letter from Aemond Targaryen, written over a century ago.

"My Dearest, 

Though you may never read these words, I write them with an ardent heart, compelled by a love that defies the boundaries of time. From the moment I first beheld you, my soul recognized its counterpart. In the fleeting, stolen moments we shared, I found a joy that I had never known, a peace that I had never sought.

But fate, it seems, is a cruel mistress, and the duties of our blood have kept us apart. Yet, even as I fulfill these obligations, my thoughts are ever with you, my heart yearning for the day we may be reunited, even if only in another life.

If you find this letter, know that my love for you was eternal and unyielding. The gods themselves could not tear my heart from yours. You are, and will always be, my greatest love.

Yours forever,

Aemond Targaryen.”

Tears welled in your eyes as the heartfelt words sank in. A part of me felt somehow a profound connection to the man who wrote them as if his spirit had been waiting patiently across the centuries for you to find him. To find this letter. It was as if you could feel Aemond’s presence, a gentle whisper in the air, a caress just out of reach. The hairs in your body stand on end.

Memories that were not your own flickered in the periphery of your mind - glimpses of a life filled with passion and tumult, of a love that burned brightly against the backdrop of a world in turmoil. Aemond’s face, stern yet tender, flashed before your eyes, a visage that seemed to bridge the gap between past and present.

At that moment, the abandoned castle felt alive with the echoes of the past. You clutched the letter to your chest, your heart beating faster against your ribcage. How could such a thing be possible?

In the quiet of the night, under the watchful gaze of the moon, you whispered your own words to the wind. Hoping that somehow they’d meet that man just like his had met yours. Sleep didn’t catch you that night. Your thoughts too consumed with that letter and the whirlwind in your chest to fall into a slumber. The fact that you should start planning the restoration of the castle is just as lost.

[summervale]

「Merriment」

Third-person reader insert! Y/N is the younger sister of King Robert Baratheon. Her house sigil is a stag, yes, but it seems she has a particular fondness for hounds.

Contains: Reluctant pining, kissing, mature situations Words:  2,311

UNFINISHED WORK: This was supposed to be a long, multi-part piece which is why it takes so long setting up! This was part one and is about halfway finished. Figured there's a lot of Sandor fans that might enjoy a small something cute <3

No husband and no responsibilities made for a very happy woman indeed. Small wonder she was all smiles and riddles and gayeties; she must, the commonfolk thought, be the happiest woman in all the seven kingdoms.

This was likely true.

She was forever laughing. There was a smile on her face always, it seemed, and everywhere she went she took merriment with her. Her ladyship took great pleasure in riddles and games and shows of mummers and fools, and King’s Landing had not hosted a tourney that did not have her there in the pavilions in many a year. She was a friend to all regardless of birth or station or reputation (within reason), and for this she was quite loved, but also quite resented. The resentment was paid little mind—turning a blind eye and smiling was much more fun, as it was often irksome to those who were loth to favor her.

Y/N Baratheon. Lady of Storm’s End, younger sister to Stannis and Robert, older sister to Renly. She possessed the same appetite for amity as Robert coupled with the mirth and grandeur of Renly. Of Stannis, it was said, they shared only a name. Still she insisted she adored all her brothers equally, “even the gloomy one.”

Much was afoot in King’s Landing.

King Robert had named Lord Eddard Stark new hand of the king, and Stark had arrived with a host of his own and his two daughters in tow. This was cause for celebration, and celebration was cause for a tourney, and where there was a tourney (or a celebration), Lady Y/N was to be found.

And she was found in King’s Landing quite a lot, of recent.

There was a rumor, often dubbed a vicious and untrue one, that though her house sigil may be the King's own stag, Y/N had a particular fondness for hounds.

The sun was two hours from setting when a host of black and yellow arrived at The King's Gate. In came banners that bore stags, and a spate of wagons bringing wines and cheeses and polished pears from Storm’s End. An impatient rider rode ahead of the rest, leaving behind a cry of protest as she thundered away, alone, up the streets of King’s Landing.

She arrived with a well-lathered horse and a swirl of her cloak. A party had time to gather in the yard of the Red Keep; a paltry welcoming committee with little time to prepare.

But the King was there—of course the King was there.

Had she not already been grinning, she would have grinned. “There’s my favorite brother,” said Y/N, dismounting and already forgetting her palfrey.

The look on Robert’s face was strange, though, and uncharacteristic of the Robert she knew and loved. The years had not been kind to him (as was made most evident by his growing waistline), and his face was stern, drawn into a scowl, his brow furrowed.

Is he not happy to see me? she thought even through her smiles and excitement. Gods, he looks as grim as Stannis, maybe twice as much. When she made to throw her arms about his neck, he took her by the shoulders and held her at arm’s length instead.

“That’s your grace to you, woman. I am the King, or have you forgotten?”

The King’s sister opened her mouth, then closed it, then opened it again, which was done dumbly and not unlike a fish.

The ruse was short-lived.

Robert Baratheon—King Robert Baratheon—broke into a roar of laughter like that of a bear made human. Still holding his dearest sister by the shoulders, he gave her a hearty shake. “Your face!” he boomed. “You should have seen it!”

Her smile returned, then her laughter. “You’re a fool if ever there was one, Robert!”  She threw her arms around his neck even as he shook her, and the big king lifted his little sister in his arms and hugged her so tightly, so fiercely, that the now-arriving party feared the king may crush their lady.

Robert didn’t crush Y/N, though. No, they were both used to it. “You’re crushing me, Robert,” she huffed at last, prompting the king to drop her back down onto the ground.

He clapped her on the shoulder. “Right then, let’s get inside. We have much and more to catch up on, and there’s a flagon of wine calling my name.”

“Every flagon of wine calls your name, your grace.”

The King was laughing again, then, and the King’s sister was smiling.

That, as far as the two Baratheons were concerned, was the way it always had been, and the way it always would be, until one buried the other.

Meeting the King’s party was a grand ordeal, though Y/N had already met most of the partygoers in attendance on at least one occasion. Of course she knew the Lannisters, her brother’s family by law, and she’d met Lord Eddard Stark once before. Lord Eddard’s daughters were new to her, however, and a few of the faces at court as well. Having been taught well, she recognized most of the family names and colors, smiling and shaking hands and doing all the formalities a lady should do.

The occupants of the Red Keep’s great hall that night came from houses big and small, known and unknown, and saw the attendance of lords and ladies, knights, hedge knights, bards, poets and singers, fools in their motley and mummers with their painted faces. There were cards being shuffled and dice being thrown. Serving girls brought plate after plate of selections from the kitchens: stuffed capons, wine-glazed lamb, honeyed figs, dark breads with thick crusts, sweet lemon cakes still-warm from the ovens. The courses seemed never-ending and the wine never stopped flowing.

“Never was there such a party before, brother,” declared Y/N. She lifted a gilded goblet with a flourish, and rich, purple wine splashed over the rim and down her hand. She was the picture of effortless joy.

And she knew it, too.

If she hadn’t known it, the guests would have reminded her; the way they flocked to her in throngs and yammered on and on whenever she should happen to lend an ear—which was often. Round and round she circled the crowd as the evening wore on and the wine continued to flow, searching the room for a familiar face—a face that would stand out even in the most crowded of rooms.

Her gaze passed the lords and ladies, passed the knights in their polished armor, until at last she found her mark.

Sandor Clegane, the Hound, stood near the far wall, obscured halfway in the shadows. His face was grim, as it usually was, pulled tightly into a scowl that had long since worn its lines permanently into his features. The burn scars that marred half his face were highlighted by the flickering torchlight, giving him an even more fearsome appearance.

She knew Sandor was not like the other knights, not like the men who fawned over ladies with flowery words and grand gestures. He was rough, blunt, and often downright rude.

He was the perfect change of pace.

Oft she sought him when at last she could take the rinse-and-repeat of perfumed nobility no longer. She wove through the crowd with ease, exchanging smiles and nods as she passed, until she finally stood before Sandor.

"Sandor," she greeted him plainly. “It’s been too long.”

He looked down at her, his expression unreadable. For an overly long moment, he said nothing. Then, with a grunt, he inclined his head slightly. "My lady," he replied, his voice as rough as the gravel on the King’s Road.

Y/N smiled up at him, unfazed by his gruffness. "Why do you stand here all alone?" she asked, her tone teasing. "Surely even hounds deserve a bit of merriment."

Sandor huffed, a sound that could have been a laugh if it had come from anyone else. "Merriment’s for fools," he muttered, though there was no real bite to his words.

“Forgive me, then, for it seems I’ve forgotten my motley.”

“So it seems.”

She knew he was not a man of many words, especially when it came to matters of the heart. But she also knew that, for reasons she could not fully explain, she had become someone he tolerated more than most.

Perhaps it was a royal decree by Robert unbeknownst to her. And what a royal decree that would be! The thought made her laugh aloud, which only earned her a raised eyebrow in response.

He indicated the floor from which she’d just come. "Motely or not, you should jingle along with the other fools,” he said, though his tone was less stern than usual.

"And you should be out there with your fellow dogs," said she, “but here we are."

Sandor's lips twitched as if they might have remembered how to smile for half a moment. “Surprised you’re not dancing again. It went well for you last time.”

With one sentence he had broken the façade she wore so well. Her look of smug mirth disappeared from her face in an instant and was replaced instead by one of flustered surprise.

It had been a celebration much like this one and she was deep in her cups by the time the sun had set and the dancing had begun. Y/N had been at the heart of it, twirling and dancing with little care, passing hand from one lord to another, from knight to knight, breathless and flushed and shoes long forgotten.

The next thing she knew, she was stumbling, and a moment later, toppling entirely. The ground rose up to meet her with an unpleasant wack!, and the pain in her cheek was overshadowed only by a pain in her ankle. She’d gotten too carried away and twisted something, it seemed, and hadn’t even felt it until she was picking herself back up off the ground.

Or, well, trying to pick herself back up off the ground. The usual cloud of courtiers buzzed around her in an attempt to see her upright again, but the pain in her ankle swelled red hot and angry.

A shadow passed, then, and she had looked up, her vision slightly blurred from the wine, to see Sandor Clegane’s gruff face above her. There had been no mocking grin or cold stare, just a look that might have been concern on a more expressive man. “You’re alright.”

Without another word, he had scooped her up in his arms, lifting her as if she weighed nothing at all.

Y/N had gasped, her hands instinctively clutching at his shoulders. "I can walk!" she had protested, though she hadn’t made any real effort to leave his arms.

 "Not on that ankle you can’t.”

And so she had let him carry her, through the bustling hall and up the winding stairs of the Red Keep, all the way to her chambers. It had been awkward, but it had also been…

More.

“You’re quite strong,” she said to him, which earned only a grunt of acknowledgement.

Something—something—fluttered inside of her when she saw him so close; the burned skin unevenly healed, the scruff that dusted his face, the muscle of his neck that disappeared beneath his armor where her prying eyes could not follow—but her imagination could. 

When they reached her chambers, he had set her down gently on the edge of her bed. She had looked up at him, her heart pounding in a way that had little to do with the wine. As he made to release her, she caught the back of his neck with her hand and held him there, inches from her face.

She’d expected him to break free, to pull away, to do anything else. But he stayed.

He stayed there like that, his lips inches from hers.

He had hesitated, his expression torn between wanting to leave and the pull of something deeper that they both felt there between them. They both smelled of wine and honeyed mead, lips sweet.

She didn’t know who kissed who, but in half a heartbeat they were entangled.

Sandor’s breath came ragged against her mouth. Her fingers tangled in his hair. She bit his lip and he growled. It was fast, animal, raw want.

And a longtime coming.

When he pulled away, she pulled him back in again, and he didn’t fight her. Breathless, she’d pulled herself up by his shoulders and onto her knees, the pain in her ankle unfelt and forgotten. Her hands cupped his face and she pulled him in, in, in, until her chest was flush with his and she could feel every rise and fall of his on hers.

At last he’d taken her by the elbows and pushed her away, and it ended as suddenly as it had started.

“You’ve had too much to drink,” he told her.

“But I haven’t had enough of you.”

“You’ve had your fill of that, too,” he said, turning cloak and leaving.

“I’m quite certain I haven’t had my fill of you.”

He paused mid-step and looked at her over his shoulder. “You don’t want that,” he assured her. There was something dangerous in his eyes, something sharp as steel and burning hot.

Y/N leaned back on the bed. “I know what I want,” she said, wishing she could stand and go to him, to pull him by his cloak and his armor and whatever else she could get her hands on—something lower than his beltline. “I’ve known for years and years.”

Slowly, deliberately, Sandor crossed the room again, silhouetted against the warm torchlight that poured in through the still-open door. “Trust me,” he said, towering over her, leaning in close. “You might want to get your fill of me, but you don’t want me to get my fill of you.”

Her breath left her body in a shuddering shiver.

Again he had turned, then, and didn’t stop to look back at her that time.