#but i need them to pay for uni so i have to be the perfect little daughter at the cost of my happiness

[two-white-butterflies]

wanting was enough | a. targaryen

Description: Aegon Targaryen falls for his father's caretaker. Loosely based on Knives Out. Rating: 16+

Aegon couldn't understand why his father loved everyone except his own children. He couldn't understand why Viserys' eyes would soften around his adopted children (namely Rhaenyra), but never around his trueborn ones. It was frustrating, but he knew that trying to fight against it was impossible. It was a losing game.

"How's dad?" Helaena inquires, pouring herself a cup of coffee.

Everyone could hear Viserys' complaints of pain last night. Old age was a bitch. Aegon could only pray that his father dies soon - at least they'd be left with money - but alas, bad grass die slow.

"Don't know. Wasn't allowed inside." he answered, taking the mug out of the counter - stealing his sister's coffee before she could take a sip. "I'll ask (your name) then," Helaena replies - rolling her eyes as he takes a sip of her sweetened cup of joe.

His eyebrows bumped into each other.

"Who?" he inquires - unfamiliar with the name. "Dad's nurse, apparently he's paying for her uni. She wants to be a doctor." Aemond barges into the room, pushing his siblings away as he boils water for their mother's tea.

Aegon snorts.

"I wasn't aware that our father ran a fucking foundation." he complains. Why was Viserys paying for another person's education when he didn't want to pay for his?

"I don't give a fuck about it - but the nurse is kinda hot." Aemond ponders - a pout was on his lips, contemplating on whether or not he'd 'tap' that. "I'll see where it goes." he smirks, already imagining your lips around him.

"Disgusting," Helaena shakes her head - pouring herself another cup of coffee, making sure to add a lot of creamer in order to avoid the bitter taste. "Hel, everyone knows that you swing both ways - I'm pretty sure she's hot in a female gaze too." Aemond nods his head - like they were talking about a celebrity and not a fucking girl that was sharing the same room as them.

"I'll be the judge of that," her eyes narrowed, and the kettle began to boil. Aemond lets out a sarcastic chuckle, holding the pot in his left hand and stealing his sister's coffee with the other. "Thanks, Hel." he grinned, walking out of the kitchen before Helaena could hit his head.

Aegon clenches his jaw at the sight of you. Beautiful - that he almost forgot what his name was.

"Viserys is alright. He had a bit of a back pain last night." you smiled at his mother - eyes dazzling and joyous.

What did it feel like to be happy all the time?

Your eyes trail towards him - scanning his shirtless body with hidden intention. He didn't have abs or anything - his stomach was round and perfect. Enough to leave a lot to imagination. Aegon's eyes widen, realizing that he was just wearing his towel.

Alicent turns to look behind her.

"Umm mom, where did you put my clothes?" he scratched the back of his head. This wasn't a pleasant first meeting.

"They're in the laundry room, (your name). Can you get them?" Alicent tilted her head. You reply with a nod - immediately walking and retrieving his clothes.

He paces back and forth in his room, feeling the water drip down his body. He felt embarrassed that you saw him that way - but also slightly happy because he could see that he was your type.

A knock on the door breaks him from his thoughts.

He opens the door quickly, peaking his head through and meeting your eyes. "Here are your clothes! I ironed them, I'm sorry it took so long." you smile at him and his hand reaches to touch his shirt.

It was warm, that means that you weren't lying.

"That's okay," he kept staring at your eyes - finding himself drawn in by their beautiful hues. "Is there anything else you need help with?" you raise both of your eyebrows and he shakes his head.

"T-thank you," he stuttered - not used to saying that word.

It was the evening of Helaena's birthday. The young guests were drunk - and the old guests were either sleeping upstairs or home. Aegon couldn't find himself drinking alcohol - it was too familiar to his father - too familiar to feel safe.

His eyes drift towards the dance floor - where you were joyfully dancing with one of his ex-classmates.

He knows who that man is - Cregan Stark. A younger boy who was accelerated into his section. He hates him. Cregan was cocky, arrogant, and too sure of himself - basically a copy of Aegon.

His jaw clenches - seeing you grind against him like a whore in heat. He wanted that for him - he wanted you to do that to him.

"Close your mouth. You're inviting flies," Alys sits beside him - a small glass of champagne was on her hand. His eyes glance towards her - he was unaware that she was invited. After her messy breakup with Aemond - she was basically excommunicated from the entire family.

"New girl huh? Aemond told me that she's a nurse," Alys ran her finger around the rim of the glass.

Ah, they got back together.

"What about it?" he answered bitterly - keeping that wall high and unreachable. "According to my experience, nurses are good fucks. They're a little bratty though - since they were mean girls in high school." she teased, searching for emotions in his stoic face.

"She's from a foreign country. She doesn't look like the type to be mean." he replied and a small chuckle exits the woman's mouth. "Good, you know something about her." she slumped on the chair - looking at you while you stop dancing.

"You're welcome," she whispers in his ear - standing up as you began marching towards him. His eyebrows merged into each other for a moment, totally clueless of what Alys did for him.

"Who was that?" you ask cautiously - hands on your hips and staring at him with an accusatory glare. "Alys, and why do you care?" he tried his best to be hard to get. "I don't care, I was just asking." you reasoned - looking away from him.

There was a weird feeling inside your chest - like you wanted to stab someone and hide their body in the mountains.

"People typically don't ask unless they care," he pointed out, smiling to himself as you walk away.

Thank you, Alys.

You ignored him the following day. Cleaning around his room while ignoring his words of complaint. "Get that thirty bro," he yelled into the mic - prepared to render his cousin deaf with the screaming.

"Baela, I swear to fucking god - if that was a snake it would've bit you already." he cursed again - killing the enemy with ease. "Don't scream at me. I saw it but you KS'ed me." the girl replied in an angry tone.

"I didn't KS you. You were lagging - tell Uncle Daemon to buy better internet." he trashtalked. Staring at you while he belittled his cousin.

Was that a turn off?

Was he being icky?

"Bitch please, tell your ugly ass dad to stop subscribing to satellite network." Baela rolled her eyes, stealing her uncle's kill.

"You're the one stealing my kills, fucking hypocrite buy yourself a new personality." he groaned and his cousin turns her camera on - flashing him two middle fingers.

He rolls his eyes, seeing that Baela disconnected again.

"I swear to god," he mumbled - turning his gaming chair around, and his eyes meet with yours. You were holding a basket filled with his clothes. "Can I help you?" he frowns, still frustrated with the game.

A small laugh exits your mouth.

"Is something funny?" he takes the headphones off. "It's amusing to see you frustrated over Fortnight." you snort - still fighting off a round of laughter. "You wouldn't understand," he rolls his eyes.

"Oh simpletons will never understand fortnight. It is deeply profound and must be studied by scientists." you exaggerated.

He couldn't fight the smile on his lips.

@pearlstiare @sweethoneyblossom1@tinykryptonitewerewolf @cheri-ladyy @watercolorskyy @bellastwd @nyctophilicvitnir @fan-goddess

#aegon targaryen #aegon targaryen x reader #aegon x reader #aegon ii targaryen #aegon ii fanfic #aegon ii x reader #aegon fanfic #tom glynn carney #house of the dragon #hotd #hotd fic #hotd imagine #house of the dragon fic

[starsstuddedsky]

Tangled in Love

vernon x reader

summary: there's nothing in the world that vernon loves more than cats. at least, that's what you think

genre: fluff, tiny bit of angst, non-idol!au, uni au, f2L, idiots to lovers, fake dating if you squint, technically university au

warnings: none!

wc: 3.8k

a/n: started this a WHILE ago and finished it like a month ago but i wanted to let it sit lol,,, may or may not have been the other option for the poll i put out and then i may or may not have forgotten to post.... anyways i am working for literally the whole summer until school starts again so i can't promise i'll be writing a whole bunch </3 so basically: enjoy bc idk when anything else will come lol (not going on official hiatus though!! just like... limbo) pls pls feel free to drop in anytime and chat!! also requests are open but again,, i'll write when i write lol

tldr: adulting sucks, i love you all, none of this has to do with the actual story lol

Vernon’s car sits in your driveway. The sight of his little red sedan evokes a strong sense of familiarity, almost as if it’s yours. It’s survived high school and his first three years of college, up till now, though the engine sometimes shakes the car a little too much and the air conditioning chooses to work less often than you would prefer. Still, the one time Vernon mentioned getting a new car, you nearly cried, so you don’t let yourself complain too much. 

He waits for you, keys in hand, as you tug on your shoes and sprint out the door with a shout of goodbye to your parents. Your shoes nearly slip off because you didn’t put them on all the way and they’re still untied when you make it to the front seat, slamming the door shut behind you and pulling on your seatbelt. 

“You didn’t have to rush,” Vernon says, barely sparing a glance at you. You do a supreme job pretending it doesn’t bother you. 

“Yeah, but my dad is watching hockey,” you say. Though it’s been years since Vernon has been to your house for a “play date,” you know the memory of your father yelling at the television as if the players can hear him isn’t one that Vernon (or anyone for that matter) can forget easily. 

“You know if you move out, you don’t have to hear them,” he says, finally glancing at you before turning his head to watch the road as he backs down the driveway. 

“If I move out, I also have to pay my bills on my own,” you say. 

“You have three job offers and you haven’t even graduated yet,” Vernon says. “Of all our friends, you are the most financially stable, so don’t you dare try that argument on me.” This debate has been going on ever since Vernon announced he was moving out; two years in the dorms on campus proved more than enough for him. 

You don’t understand why he’s so insistent about you moving out. Sure you complain about your parents occasionally but not enough to really matter, and he knows how grateful you are that they’ve let you stay in your childhood room and rarely let you pay for anything. 

So why? You set your eyes on him, with his annoyingly perfect features that you’ve known most of your life. He studies the road, indifferent to your glare and undistracted. 

That’s the Vernon you know: focused on the moment, and never noticing you. You know how pitiful you sound, pining for someone for so long who has never once spared you a second look. Still, before everything else, he’s your friend, your best friend. You won’t ruin that just because you caught feelings. 

“Why are we going an hour away again?” You ask, resting your back against the cushioned seats and turning your head to the window to watch the scenery pass by. It’s easier to avoid thinking about those feelings when you aren’t staring at him. 

“Because the people running the rescue needed a volunteer to pick up the kittens.” 

“And why am I here?” 

“So I don’t get kidnapped or murdered,” Vernon says nonchalantly. 

“How am I going to prevent you from getting kidnapped or murdered?” 

“Strength in numbers?” He takes his eyes off the road for half a second to flash a smile at you. 

You rolled your eyes, plugging your phone into the aux. “You should have asked Jihoon. Between his gym obsession and unbridled rage, the nonexistent potential kidnappers-murderers would never stand a chance.” 

“And he has good taste in music. Bump,” he says, bracing his arm in front of you as he hit a particularly large pothole. He drops his arm as soon as the car stops shaking and you ignore the urge to catch his hand in yours. 

“He does not, and you better not be implying I have bad taste!” You dig through your playlists, trying to find the Vernon-approved one. 

“I was implying but now I’ll outright say it.” 

“His playlist is just Bruno Mars and Harry Styles and one random Ariana Grande song.” You hold up the shared playlist for good measure. Vernon ignores you, refusing to take his eyes off the road. 

“Okay, not good taste, but better than yours.” 

“What is wrong with my taste in music?” 

“No comment.” 

“How have we been friends this long?” You ask. You can’t quite say it with a straight face; the idea of not having Vernon in your life is an absurdity you can’t imagine. 

“By the way, you need to give directions,” Vernon says. “I sent you the address last week.” 

You shake your head but dig through the messages to find the address, putting Jihoon’s playlist on to prove your point. Vernon pretends not to care, singing along to “Leave the Door Open,” as if he didn’t make fun of Jihoon a week ago because he played the song on repeat during his four hour shift at the cafe. 

When you’re being honest with yourself, you know you want more than riding in Vernon’s front seat and making pointless jokes. More than once, you’ve imagined what it’s like to go home with him and stay there, to wake up in his bed because you share it with him, instead of the times you drank too much and he slept on the couch (because of course Vernon is the type of person to give up his bed for his friend). Moments like that make it harder to remember that he doesn’t feel the same way. 

You were doing a great job of paying attention until the second half hour, when you got stuck in standstill traffic. In your mind, only a few minutes pass, but suddenly Vernon shakes your shoulder and your heart shoots bolts of adrenaline into your veins to wake you up. 

“We’re here,” he says softly. He holds your phone with the directions still open. The engine shakes the car; he must have literally just stopped. It takes a couple moments to remember that he drove you into the middle of nowhere to pick up some kittens to foster them (another bullet point in the ever growing list of why you love Vernon: he does absolutely insane things for what he loves. What would it be like to be the person he loves?). He stares at you for a moment and for some godforsaken reason, you think he’s going to kiss you. 

He points to the corner of your lips. “You drooled.” He laughs at your groan, turning in his seat and cutting the engine, tossing your phone into your lap. 

The door creaks when you pull on the handle but it swings open. You are extra careful when you swing it shut, being as gentle as possible. Vernon raises his eyebrows but doesn’t comment on it. You stretch until your back finally pops, jogging to catch up with Vernon who didn’t wait for you, striding up the smooth driveway. 

Warm pastel yellow greets you, a cute door that matches the array of flowers on the front porch perfectly. Vernon sneezes and presses the doorbell, stepping back to wait, shoulder pressing against yours. Even though his jean jacket and your cotton t-shirt separate you from really touching him, you feel a different sort of warm, a tingly feeling that spreads from your insides and makes you feel giddy. 

After a couple minutes, the door opens, revealing a smiling woman and a child that can’t be more than five clinging to her leg. “You must be the fosters! Sorry, it’s a little hectic today, but come on in!” She ushers you in, picking up the child. 

Some psychopath. You glance at Vernon but he turns his back on you, following the woman down the hall to a closed door. Whatever, it’s not like he needs to see you to know the jokes you make. 

“We’ve been keeping them away from the rest of the house since it gets so chaotic,” she says. “I’d love to keep them but we’ve got two toddlers and a hyperactive dog.” She sounds genuinely regretful, which you understand as soon as you step over the baby gate and into the room. It looks like it was a spare bedroom (you can’t help but think it’s for the children when they get too big to share a room), but the bed has been stripped and there isn’t any other furniture. In the middle of the room, in a nest of blankets, a grown cat sits and licks tiny balls of fur that mewl softly in protest. The black cat pauses in her grooming, studying you and Vernon while the woman and her child watch from the door. 

“Do you want to tell the lovely couple what we named them?” She asks the child. 

You freeze. Did she just call you a couple? “We’re not–” Vernon stops you with a hand on your arm, sitting cross legged on the ground and facing the woman and her child. 

“The momma is Pinky,” the child mumbles, barely audible. “‘Cause she has really pink feet.” 

You smile at her, though you’re still reeling from Vernon’s hand, which slips from your arm to interlace his fingers with yours. “Did you name her?” 

The child grins. “Yeah! But my brother named the babies.” She pouts. 

“I think Pinky is a great name,” you say. Vernon grunts in agreement. Pinky stands and wanders slowly toward Vernon’s hand (the one not holding yours), which he holds outstretched while looking away. Looking at you. You get to see the exact moment Pinky brushes her head against his fingers, watch the corners of his mouth creep up in satisfaction, watch his eyes slip away from yours as he strokes her head. She lets off a low rumble as she purrs, brushing her whole body against his foot before leaving him to study you. 

You’ve never thought of yourself as a cat-person or a dog-person (you love them all the same), but a life-time as Vernon’s best friend (and an abundance of cat cafes) have trained you in how to get cat’s to befriend you. You let Pinky move however she wants, hyper aware of Vernon’s hand squeezing yours once before letting go. 

He shifts to look at the kittens, earning a wary glance from Pinky. She watches him for a moment before turning back to you, brushing against your hand and eventually turning her back on you, purring like the engine of Vernon’s car the entire time. 

“What’s this one called?” Vernon asks, pointing to the orange colored kitten. 

“That’s Muffin, Momma named her,” the child explains. She stands at the baby gate alone, her mother off somewhere getting all of their supplies so that you and Vernon can leave with them. Her little fingers curl around the metal. “The black one is Fried and the white one is Egg. That’s what my brother named them.” 

Vernon nods, smiling over the tiny kittens. Pinky finally decides she doesn’t want him quite so close, leaving your side to place herself between him and the kittens. He laughs, sliding back to sit next to you. 

“There’s no way you don’t end up adopting at least one of them,” you whisper. 

“I have self-control.” 

“Wanna bet?” 

Vernon turns to look at you except he’s much too close, nose just barely brushing against yours. It takes all of your willpower not to glance at his lips, infinitely harder when you realize you can feel his breath on your lips. Would he kiss you back? You push that fantasy away immediately: it’s Vernon. He’d push you away and call you weird, or do that judgy-eyebrow-wiggle-thing that he reserves only for special occasions (most recently used when Soonyoung was talking about a hookup gone wrong). You’ve always been the one he looks at when someone does something weird; what would he do if it was you being weird? Your stomach turns, the butterflies eating each other alive. You can’t do that to him, no matter how perfect his lips are. 

You jump at the sound of someone clearing their throat. You turn back to the door to see the woman holding a cat carrier doing her best not to smile. 

“Not trying to rush you two, but the sooner they settle into a nice loving home, the better,” she says, winking at ‘loving.’ You really should correct her. Actually, Vernon should correct her. He always does, the very few times that you have been mistaken as a couple. He never hesitates, so why isn’t he doing it now? Does he really not realize what she’s implying? 

He stands up, turning to face you and extending his hands to pull you up. You roll your eyes but take them anyway, ignoring the way your heart sinks when he lets go this time. He takes the carrier and gently picks up the kittens, blankets and all, and tucks them inside. Pinky follows immediately after, as if she couldn’t bear to be away from her children for more than a second. 

“I have a box ready by the door with their food, and toys, and other supplies, and I know you said you have a litter box and you’re ready, but I just wanted to make sure that they settle in nice, and I added a blanket in case they’re homesick, and–” She pauses, peering at the dark holes of the carrier as if she can see the little kittens inside. She takes a deep breath, picking up her child again, stepping to the side so that you and Vernon can leave the room. “I know you two will take good care of them, I do, I just– I’m going to miss them.” 

“Me too,” her child says, clinging to her mother’s neck. 

The woman smiles. “But we said our goodbyes already, and they’re going to be so happy with these two, right?” 

“Of course,” you say when Vernon doesn’t answer. “He’s been obsessed with cats since he was smaller than you!” You wink at the child, who giggles. 

You pick up the box at the door, grunting at the heaviness. 

“We can switch,” Vernon says softly but you shake your head. 

“It’s just to the car, it’s fine.” Vernon looks like he’s going to argue more, but finally he steps onto the front porch, moving as gently as possible, trying to disturb the precious cargo as little as possible. 

“Thank you so much again,” the woman says, setting her child down. “We really do wish we could keep them, but it makes me happy knowing that someone capable will be taking care of them, especially an adorable couple like the two of you. Do keep me updated on their adoptions.” 

You force a smile and choke out a “thank you,” following Vernon mindlessly down the driveway after she closes the door.

Adorable couple, were her exact words and Vernon said nothing. Why? The word hangs on your tongue, threatening to spill out if you so much as open your mouth. You watch as Vernon sets the carrier in the backseat, then takes the box out of your arms and places it on the floor. You force yourself to move to the passenger side when he raises his eyebrows at you, but once you’re sitting down and the seatbelt is across your chest, you’re frozen again. 

Vernon takes your phone when you don’t move, putting in your passcode (the sum of his birthday and yours). He pulls up his own playlist, a collection of hyperpop and indie artists that you normally enjoy listening to. Today it takes all your concentration not to burst. 

You almost make it the whole drive, all the way to his block, the apartment building he’s spent the last year and a half in that’s become far too familiar to you. How much time have you wasted away on the floor of his living room, drinking, doing classwork, listening to him talk about the future, rambling to him about the midnight thoughts that threaten your heart? He knows everything about you, except what you need him to know the most. 

When the question begins to burn in your heart, you can’t hold it anymore. Vernon pulls into his parking spot and it falls from your lips before you realize it. “Why?” 

He has the audacity to feign ignorance, blinking at you before finally asking, “Why what?” 

“Why did you let her think we are a couple?” 

One of the kittens mewls in the silence, a soft cry for help, sounding pitifully like your own heart. 

Vernon stares ahead of him at the concrete wall, the fading red number 19 that designates this spot as his. Just say something, your heart begs him. Stop giving me hope where there is none. His shoulders rise in the tiniest shrug. “I guess I was just curious.” 

“Of what?” 

He swallows, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. He glances at you, just once. “What it would be like.” He sighs. “This really isn’t the time for this conversation.” 

Your grip on the door handle is so tight your knuckles are white. So desperately, you want to believe he’s trying to say what you think he’s saying but you refuse to give yourself hope unless it’s real. “What conversation?” 

“Okay, for the record, I did think this through,” he says, “a lot. Like, for months. This isn’t coming out of nowhere, I really did try to figure out if it’s just a passing thing because the last thing I want is for things between us to be weird because you’re my best friend and I tried to imagine my life without you and that was worse than anything, so I decided I wouldn’t ruin anything except I can’t stop thinking about–”

“Vernon.” 

He pauses, turning to face you again and this time he doesn’t look away. You’ve never felt self-conscious under his gaze, not when he’s seen every awkward stage of your life and stuck with you anyways. His eyes have always been familiar to you, an oasis of comfort that you always find yourself drifting toward. But the longer he stares at you, the more you want to run away, hide from the heartbreak you see in his eyes. 

“I think I like you,” he says. “No. I do. Like, as in more than a friend. God, none of these words are working.” 

You stare at him. He’s saying everything you want him to say. He’s saying he likes you. Why can’t you move? 

Vernon runs a hand through his hair, and sighs. “Like I said, I don’t want to ruin things between us, you're still my best friend first. But I’m also sure about how I feel and I don’t want to keep it from you any longer. I can’t stay in this limbo of holding onto something that doesn’t exist, so, I’m really sorry.” 

“Sorry?” You repeat, frowning. “Why are you sorry?” 

“Because… I like you. And that ruins… this.” He gestures between you and him and that’s when you finally realize that he doesn’t know. 

“You dumbass,” you say, “I like you, too.” 

Vernon frowns, mouth hanging open a little, and you have to wonder if you looked this goofy when he was talking. Your heart swells when you realize you’re the reason for it. “You do?” 

“Yes,” you say, grabbing his hand. Your cheeks ache a little, and you realize that you’re smiling wider than you ever have before. You’ve never been this happy, not when you graduated high school, not when you and Vernon found out you got into the same college, not when you got a perfect score on that notoriously impossible chemistry final. “Vernon, I am an idiot that always thought you didn’t feel the way I did so I did everything I could to hide it. But I like you, I really, really do, and I’m sorry I never let it show.” There’s another word for how you feel, but you aren’t quite brave enough to use it yet, even if it’s what you really mean to say. 

Vernon leans closer, pressing his forehead against yours. “We really are dumb, huh?” 

“I can already hear Jihoon’s gloating.”

“He’s been nagging you too?” Vernon groans softly but the smile never leaves his lips. “He’s going to be insufferable.” 

You’ve grown used to silences with Vernon. Sometimes they are painful, like when he tells a joke and only you laugh. Usually they’re peaceful, comfortable silences that can only exist between two people that have nothing left to say but stay together anyways. But this silence is heavy, a weight on your shoulders pushing you to do something, move closer. You’ve known him your whole life but this is foreign territory. 

His breath kisses your lips again and this time you have the bravery to lean forward, just a little. His lips are soft, bottom lip chapped a little more than the top but it is warm and it feels like a first and thousandth at the same time, like unlocking the door to a house you know you’ll spend the rest of your life in. Your mind floats farther and farther away, in some place of impossible happiness that can’t quite believe that this is real. 

A soft cry from somewhere to your left brings you back to earth. You pull away at the same time he does, glancing at the backseat. Right. The kittens. You glance at Vernon, whose mouth is still a little open, eyes wide and flustered. It makes you want to kiss him all over again but you settle for laughing. 

“I guess we should go inside,” he says, leaning away from you though he doesn’t turn his back yet. 

“We should get them settled,” you say, glancing at the carrier again. 

Vernon nods, opening his door and grabbing the heavy box, pausing by the entrance to the building to wait for you to grab the carrier. Silence falls again as you ride the elevator up but you’re more than familiar with it. 

It doesn’t take long to settle Pinky and the kittens, not when Vernon already had a room set up for them. He figures there’s been enough stress for the day and they should get some peace and space to relax, so you stretch out on the couch, taking your usual corner. Vernon sits next to you, the inch of space separating you feeling like a mile. 

Vernon glances at you, chewing on his lip before asking, “You’ll stay?” 

“Always.” 

The grin that splits his face has you swooning all over again, so when he throws an arm over your shoulder, leaning into your side, your brain fully stops functioning. You have to will thoughts into existence, which is silly because it’s Vernon and he’s done this a million times. But when you tuck your head onto his shoulder and he kisses the top of this head, you know everything is different. And exactly how you want it. 

“You’re definitely going to adopt Fried,” you say. 

His laughter bounces you. “No way.” 

“It’s Fried or Muffin. You can’t handle their cuteness, I saw you baby talking at them.” 

“I'll stay strong.” 

“What if I want a kitten?” 

Vernon doesn’t hesitate. “Egg is pretty cute.” 

“Sucker.” 

“Only for you.” 

thank you for reading <3

#🌟 stars galaxy #seventeen #seventeen x reader #svt reader #svt #seventeen fluff #vernon x reader #chwe hansol #vernon #vernon fluff #seventeen fic #seventeen fanfic #svt fic #svt fanfic #vernon fic #vernon fanfic #reader x vernon #svt vernon #seventeen vernon #vernon seventeen #vernon svt #svt x reader #svt fluff

[starliights-shining]

Hello! I was wondering if I could request a TFP with Optimus prime, wheeljack and Knockout and a reader who’s desperately horny but also stressed but they has have 4th year exams (uni sucks) but they notice just how tense reader is and try to get rid of worries by fucking or teasing reader for each question they gets right? Hope this makes sense English isn’t my first language 😅 thank u

Hey, hope this can distract you from uni for a second. I hope this is what you were looking for I also hope uni gets better or easier for you and don't stress to muchh. Enjoy :)

Pairings: TFP! Optimus Prime x Reader, Wheeljack x Reader, Knockout x Reader

Warnings: NSFW, Fem useage for reader, no use of Y/N,

Optimus Prime 

He’s so proud of you, answering questions right and actually learning something, he’s the type to pump his digits in you for every correct answer, and if you get through an entire assignment he’ll let you come on his servo.

“Now, answer number two.”

He had you sitting on his lap, legs spread and your back pressed against his front chassis, A servo between your legs, while the other helped you hold the paper up. The words blurring together form the tears in your eyes, you were frustrated. Unable to focus on anything but his digits resting inside you, waiting, waiting for you to get a question right. You opened your mouth, a sigh coming out after you attempted to answer number two. You couldn't get anything out but ‘the’, your question lost in your mind everytime you attempted to speak. 

“Come on,” 

His voice was gentle, servo giving a little wiggle for encouragement. Which didn’t help, you threw your head back, a tear falling down your cheek. You didn’t want to, you couldn’t actually, you were far to horny to think about anything other than riding him after classes, and now you're here, his digits deep in you, so close to your original thoughts during your classes. You were doomed, he gave you one simple task, answer number two and you couldn’t, your own hands betraying you and letting go of the paper. 

“I can’t, I can’t, I just want you.” 

Your hips moved to get some sort of friction down there, a simple movement that spoke for you. Your own hands are going to grab at his wrist, trying to move them yourself. You looked up at him, his optics scanning the paper he was still holding, before moving to scan your face, their blue whirling and light glow, causing you to clench around his digits. 

“Please, I’ll finish it after.” 

You were just trying to get leverage, something that will get him to put the paper down and let you ride him like you're a cowgirl. 

“Answer number two, and I'll consider it.” 

How cruel, the Leader of the Autobots, being so cruel to you, his lover. You sighed, looking back at the paper and reading the question, you even looked at the next few questions to see if they gave you some hint to what the answer was, but after reading question five, he moved his digits. His thumb moving to circle you clit. You let out a soft moan in response, he was just giving you a little bit of what you wanted, showing you ‘finish this and you'll get what you wanted and you did, answer the questions correctly and given more then two seconds of moment. That was all you needed for motivation, you answered every question and finished the assignment, he let you have it. Digits moving in and out, he brought his other servo to your clit, rubbing slow circles around it. Giving you the perfect amount of friction and penetration, you came in less than five minutes of being done. You would normally be ashamed, but you spent most if not all of your time with his digits just sitting on you, so when given what you wanted you knew it was going to be good. Well, it wasn’t what you originally wanted, but he’ll give you that for passing your upcoming exams. Which to you is enough to study, sleep well, and pay attention in class. 

Wheeljack 

The type to cockwarm you, Keep you right on the edge, bouncing you every now and then, but giving you a few pumps after every correct question, and won’t let you cum until you know the material or finish everything for the night. 

“Come on SweetSpark, I know you know this one.” 

A servo on your waist and his spike resting inside you, you were bent over the table, the overhead light casting your shadow down on your papers. The colored out periodic table and the chem book, that cost hundreds, opened to the pages you needed. You had a pen in your hand while your other gripped the edge of the table. Knuckles white on both the pen and the edge of the table. You couldn’t focus on your work, the feeling of being full taking over your mind. You could no longer focus on the basic chem questions for your homework, you had two more whole sections of questions. Jackie had promised you, with each section of questions completed he’d fuck you. He’d pull your waist from his and then slam it back, tightening the knot in your tummy and weakening your knees. 

You answered the question, he picked up your answer sheet you gave him. Optics scanning the paper for the question you just answered and then reading the answer to you, you nodded to confirm that's what you had on your paper. He chuckled, servos grabbing at your waist, and pulling you away from him and then pulling you back on his spike.

You registered your forehead on the table, eyes closed tightly as you just let everything out. Moans, whining, gaps, begs, anything that can and will get you closer to finishing. 

“Ya almost there Sweetspark. Almost ready to come all over my spike?” 

He didn’t let up, pushing you forward and then harshly slamming you back on him. All you could do was nod and let out a muffled moan from biting your lip. You weren’t trying to get a noise complaint from your neighbors, but god did he feel so good. 

“Please,” 

Your beg trailed off into a moan, your hands gripping at the pen, you last thing grounding you here, to this very moment.

“Yeah? That's so?” 

You moved one of your arms, resting your forehead on it instead, while your other hand left the pen in front of you, grabbing at his servo on your waist. 

“Come one, You got it, no need to hold back now.” 

So you didn’t, two more pumps of his spike and your let go, you rode your high, hips wiggling to keep your high for a little longer, until it died. You let out a soft sigh, you had caught your breath just enough to raise your head up, the reflection of Jackie caught in the window. His optics staring at your body impaled on his spike. Your hands went to p[ick up the pen, ready to do your next section, but he had other plans. His servos moved up from your hips and pulled you back. Your back now pressed against his chassis. 

“I don’t think I wanna let you go that quick, Sweets.” 

Well, you guess you won’t be finishing your ‘homework’ tonight. 

Knockout

I think Knockout is more of a helm resting between your thighs while maybe a digit in you. He mainly sticks to just eating you out. Every correct question he’ll pump his pointer finger in and then give your clit a little suck and a few licks. 

“I’m listening, keep going.” 

You were reading the chapter to him, the cover of the book being all his optics could see, if he cared to look up from the mess he made of you below. With every few words you'd take a second to breathe. Eyes closing as you attempt to stop them from rolling back constantly. This all was getting out of hand, when you asked him for something to get you to study, you never thought you’d be. You thought maybe he’d just say something about finishing it and then you can watch a movie or get your favorite food, not have him between your legs. 

You continued on your reading, the paper with your questions to your right. The word on the book seemed to be getting jumbled, you started to stutter over them, you lifted your free hand to point at the words, your last attempt, before you break down and just ask him to fuck you. It worked, you got the words out and you finished your paragraph, which only took you 15 minutes. You put the book down and picked up your question sheet, reading the last question. 

“Why did,” 

You paused, giving a dreamy sigh. You were starting to feel like you were on a cloud, head leaning back on the couch. 

“Continue or I’ll stop.” 

You blinked, picking your head up and going back to reading your questions out loud. You pick up your pencil and start writing out your answer, until you feel him move. Digits moving and a glossa moving over your clit. You gripped the pencil, a whiney moan coming from you. You had to keep writing, the knot in your stomach seeming to be getting tighter and tighter. Your hand moved the pencil in a tight grip, your other hand moving to flip through a few pages and write some more. You wrote your final word and placed a period behind it, releasing a deep sigh as you threw the paper and book to the side. 

“I’m done, please, I’ll do anything.” 

His movement doesn’t stop, in fact the pace picks up, digits wiggling while his glossa. Your hips buckle towards his movement, chasing your high. You were in this situation for  longer than four hours, god did it finally feel good to be able to chase that high. Your hands flew to his helm, trying your best to pull him closer to your pussy. It didn’t seem to last longer than thirty seconds. Your high came like a tsunami, and it was worth it. Finishing your work, simply so you can get off. A great decision, if it didn’t make you so distracted. 

#transformers #transformers prime x reader #transformers prime #transformers x reader #tfp x reader #tf x reader #optimus prime #optimus prime x reader #tfp optimus prime #tfp optimus x reader #tfp wheeljack #wheeljack x reader #wheeljack #tfp wheeljack x rader #tfp knockout #knockout #tf knockout

[am-i-the-asshole-official]

I (22F) was roommates with a friend (20F) and got in a huge fight with her over my boyfriend (26M) being in our shared room.

I've been friends with her since the beginning of uni before we were roommates and we shared a room in an apartment with two other friends (more mine than hers). We have different personalities, I tend to be direct and confrontational while she's usually more quiet and a bit of a pushover, but we got along because of similar family and financial situations and shared interests.

I also have a long distance boyfriend who I met while he studied abroad at my uni, and though we were only dating for less than half a year at the time, we were very serious (and still are) about our relationship and made plans for him to stay with me for a couple months close to winter break. I told my roommate about this and she gave a hesitant response that she wasn't comfortable with him sleeping in our room but I persisted and she told me okay.

Of course I compromised. My friend had disclosed some of her previous trauma with men with me before, so I tried to compromise by saying he won't be staying at the apartment overnight and won't be in the room when she's there. However, a month before he was scheduled to come she goes back and says she wasnt comfortable at ALL with him being in our room. She knew she was being unreasonable and apologized and told me she would think of another compromise before my boyfriend got here that we could both agree with.

I thought that was stupid but I was tired with other personal problems and school that I just agreed to listen to her compromises. She proposes something even more tedious saying that he couldn't be in the room past eight pm and that the closet door had to be shut if he was in the room, and I was tired of the whole thing so I agreed to that compromise.

I kept it for the first week. I forgot to close the closet door now and again but she didn't seem to mind or notice. She acted super uncomfortable around my boyfriend which bothered me a lot, and because of her eight pm rule I had a hard time spending time with him so i spent a lot of nights sleeping on the livingroom floor just so I could be by my boyfriend.

One night, my boyfriend and I took a nap on my own bed for once when my roommate was getting home late, and I didn't wake up in time when she came in around midnight. She saw us in the room and was shocked. I was honest with her and I told her I didn't agree with her "compromise" and it wasn't fair to me when I was paying rent on this room too. She started crying so my boyfriend and I left for the living room to spend another night out there AGAIN.

My roommate packed some things the next day and spent that night at a friend's dorm from what I've heard. She then confronted me saying we should talk so I agreed and we had two mutual friends with us to make sure everyone was being fair. She said that I surprised her a lot that night and that she felt wronged that I suddenly did that without notice. I told her quite bluntly that she needed to grow up because she wasnt the perfect roommate either and barely did any chores around the apartment. A bit harsh, but she's a bit childish in that she's immature and sensitive, and it was true that she didn't do much.

She ended the conversation shortly after in tears saying it wasn't "productive". My friends let me know what I said was out of line and I agreed with them and apologized to her afterwards, but she said she didn't want to have another discussion until the semester was finished so we walked on eggshells around eachother for a couple weeks until winter break.

The conversation after winter break wasn't any more productive than before. She said some things that implied I bullied her into agreeing on the initial compromise and that I was insensitive to her trauma and her "safe space". It wasn't fair to me at all, because it was my home too and I'm allowed to be comfortable in my own space with my loved ones and I would never do this to her if it was her mom or potential girlfriend so I don't understand why she was giving me this much shit for her rigid "compromise". It was MY APARTMENT too, and I told her as much that I tried my best to compromise when I could've just had my boyfriend staying in my room the whole time instead. And then she insinuated that my boyfriend and I made her feel "unsafe" and that I hurt her on purpose. It's true that I didn't feel sorry about breaking the compromise, but it wasnt a fair one to begin with. The conversation didn't get better from there until it ended.

Now we barely talk to eachother. We live in another house together that we signed the lease for before this all went down, though this time in separate rooms. She actively avoids me and though I honestly don't care about that it is making the house a bit of a toxic place. It's been like a year since this whole thing started and I'd like to put it behind but thats hard to do when she acts like I'm the bad guy. Am I really the asshole here? My friends have been sympathetic but haven't given me a straight answer so I want to know.

What are these acronyms?

#aita #am i the asshole

[thedovesaredying]

Monsters in the Dark | Nikto x Reader | Part 2

Second chapter of the Cowboy!Nikto AU. Written from the POV of Nikto this time. A reminder once again that there's a prologue and "part 1" is only the first full chapter. The original cowboy AU is owned and created by @ghouljams.

A/N: I'm a day late on my estimation for when it would be done, but life decided to get me sick, busy with uni work, and put one of my legs completely out of action. I also realized about 3 husbandry manuals deep into my research that the chapter would be a bit too long if I included that much information. Instead, the info will be sprinkled in among the next few chapters.

Warnings: Sputnik being a silly girl.

Masterlist: CoD Masterlist

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The weather is downright miserable. While one might assume the worst weather would be torrential rain or unforgiving hail, Nikto is firmly of the belief that there’s nothing worse than a hot, sunny day. It’s hard enough to be constantly covered from head to toe, but to then add on the Texan sun beating down at its full strength? He’s certain he’ll be nothing more than a puddle of sweat by the end of the day.  

At least Sputnik seems to be enjoying the disgusting temperatures. She’s running around the front of the property, completely unfazed by the heat. She welcomes it, in fact, using it as the perfect excuse to paddle into the large dam for a cool swim at the day’s warmest.  

Her paws are caked with mud and grass, so much to her sadness she’s been barred from entering the house, forced to wait until she’s dried off and all the muck has fallen off of her paws. If she’s still dirty by the end of the day then a quick hosing down will be in order, but she’ll likely consider that a fun game too.  

For now, she’s content to lay stretched out on the porch, her side rapidly rising and falling as she pants.  

The weather isn’t the only thing that’s miserable, however. Nikto’s mood has been foul ever since his forced trip into town for new supplies. A certain hyena had decided that she was bored while her owner was away and had decided to chew a rather large hole in the wall of the shed.  

The hole was easily large enough for her to climb through and so, after having already spent most of the day hard at work, Nikto was forced to leave for the only hardware store in town. Some new planks of wood and a hammer not riddled with rust later, and he’s reminded of the invoice he received the vet clinic a few days prior and has also yet to pay for.  

He’s not quite sure what possessed him to go to the clinic in person, but he was disappointed regardless with what greeted him. The receptionist was painfully cheery and seemed determined to dig into his business with her endless questions. He’d left feeling completely drained from only a single conversation with the woman. You hadn’t been there. He can’t fathom why that annoys him so much.  

The hole in the shed was simple enough to fix, even under the intensity of the sweltering heat, but the issue of Sputnik remains.  

Clearly, he can’t leave her unattended for several hours at a time just for work. She’s never had to entertain herself in such an environment and clearly, it’s stressing her out being without her only packmate. She requires both social interaction and physical activity, but above all of that, needs mental stimulation.  

Like a toddler left without a guardian, Sputnik has decided that she can tear apart the house and garden while unattended. Plants have been torn out of the ground, wooden structures gnawed to bits, and most concerningly, large holes dug along the fence line.  

The situation is far from ideal, but Nikto does not abandon his own. He isn’t like those bastards at the CIA who are willing to leave those loyal to them knowing full well they will perish without help. He made that decision a long time ago, and Sputnik’s very name is a tribute to that.  

It was only three years ago, but it felt like eons. It started with a small enemy group hidden deep within the South African wilderness who were utilising spotted hyenas as guard animals. Nikto and his team had cut through the animals both outside and inside the building, even the ones hidden away in the basement below. 

In the end, only a single cub remained; a tiny girl still nestled up against the steadily cooling body of her mother. She couldn’t have been more than a week or two of age, bright eyed as all hyena newborns are, and covered in scraggly fur.  

The other men on the team planned on putting the animal out of her misery, but the sight gave Nikto pause. She was small and defenceless, and abandoned by her cowardly handlers to be killed by their enemy. It was a story he couldn’t help but find familiar. Picking up the infant, she snuggles into his vest, completely trusting of him despite not having known him for more than a few seconds.  

She whines and licks at him as he tucks her into his shirt, safe and warm pressed up against scarred skin. No one says a word, when he leaves the compound with the cub and boards the waiting helicopter for the trip back to base.  

His first thought was to name her Laika, but that name seemed a little too common for his taste, and so he chose Sputnik, the name of Laika’s space capsule and eventual tomb. A tribute to yet another stray who was left behind by those who should have protected her.  

Sputnik would not suffer the same fate; she would never be disregarded like a broken toy thrown into the trash. She’s good, she’s loyal, she trusts Nikto unconditionally. Destroying a bit of property would never be a reason to break that trust.  

Instead, he presses dial on your number and holds his phone to his ear. He’s been thinking it over for several minutes, finger hovering over the button with your contact listed, before forcing himself to press it. For a long while it rings and he’s about to give up when you finally answer with a bright greeting to whoever is on the other side.  

He grunts out your name, listening as you happily chirp his own back at him in return. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” you ask. He can hear the soft rumbling of a car’s engine in the background and can only assume you’re driving somewhere.  

“I require... assistance,” he says after a long pause, letting the conversation drift into silence. While it isn’t necessarily help he’s asking for, it still rankles deeply that he isn’t solving the issue alone. He despises being indebted to anyone for anything, but for some reason he doesn’t get the feeling you’re out to acquire favours from anyone. You’re a professional merely doing what you’re trained for and nothing more. He can admire that.  

“What can I help you with? Is Sputnik alright?” You sound so genuinely concerned about her, so much so that it sounds like you almost drop your phone.  

He glances down at the hyena laying happily at his feet, panting up at him with a broad grin. “She is fine,” he confirms, catching the relieved sigh you let out, “it is behavioural issues she is dealing with.”  

You make a soft sound, clearly intrigued, “well, I’m on the road at the moment heading toward my next appointment, but I should have time to drop in to your place in a few hours. Will you be around then?”  

“да,” he hums, “we will be here.”  

“Perfect! I’ll be there in a few,” you confirm, and after offering an acknowledging grunt, he ends the call.  

He goes to pocket the phone but pauses, glancing at your number. Mulling it over for a good long while, he selects the number and adds it to his contacts. There’s only two other people there, one of them his current workplace and the other one of his old acquaintances from before even his time in KorTac.  

A rather dramatic huff from Sputnik draws his attention from staring at his phone, and he watches her with hidden amusement as she rolls over onto her stomach. She looks up at him with big, sad eyes and a pathetic whine. When he merely rolls his eyes at her she playfully snaps her teeth in his direction.  

“Я не знал, что ты такая королева драмы,” he growls back, curling the undamaged part of his lip at her.  

The hyena, fortunately, can tell he’s still joking despite his deadpan tone and leaps to her feet with a delighted cackle. She shakes out her coat, biting at the air. The moment he so much as twitches a finger in her direction she turns and leaps off the top of the deck, forgoing the stairs so she can sprint across the yard.  

Nikto stands from his chair but doesn’t give chase, watching as the crazy animal spins around in circles before darting off toward the dam again. She dives into the water with a splash, sending muddy water in all directions. He cringes slightly at the sight of the hyena now dripping with muck. At least he was already planning on hosing her down. The rest of the afternoon passes slowly, with Nikto taking some time to rest while Sputnik causes minimal trouble.  

When your car finally does pull up, the poor girl has exhausted herself again, laying in a pile of leaves while she happily naps away. The moment her flicking ears pick up the sound of your truck on the gravel she jumps up again, eyes wide as she takes in the familiar sight. She’s already giggling to herself with excitement, looking between Nikto and your vehicle.  

“место!” Nikto calls, ignoring the sad whimper that earns. He approaches when you pull up, patiently waiting as you drop out of the front seat and close the door behind you.  

When you spot him, you offer a wave and grin, “hey, Nikto!” You take a moment to glance over at Sputnik and he can see her near enough vibrating with how excited she is to come over and greet you out of the corner of her eye. “How’ve you been doing?” you stop just before him, looking him right in the eye, completely unfazed by the monster you’re facing down.  

“We are fine,” he says, perhaps a little too firmly given the way you blink at him, “we require some assistance with behavioural issues.” He quickly amends his statement in the hopes of not immediately scaring you off.  

Fortunately, you’re quick to bounce back, a smile returning to your face, “of course, what sorts of problems are you experiencing?”  

“Спутник!” The hyena’s head shoots up upon hearing her name, “ко мне!” She sprints across the grass, very nearly crashing into his legs with her enthusiasm to heed her owner’s command. “She is getting bored when left alone,” he explains, watching as you reach your hand out for the hyena, “eating walls, digging holes, breaking everything she can reach.”  

Sputnik snuffles at your hand, before whining and immediately shifting to lean up against you, demanding pets. You scratch behind her neck and Sputnik’s tongue lolls out of her mouth in delight. “I’m sure we can work something out to help prevent her from damaging anything else or accidentally eating something she shouldn’t be.”  

“She struggles when left alone, especially during work hours,” he adds on, turning and starting to stalk toward the side of the house where the majority of the damage can be seen.  

“Okay, well she sounds like she just needs some enrichment to keep her occupied while you’re away,” you nod to yourself as you follow Nikto around to the side of the house. Several of the small plants that had been happily growing in little spots around the yard have been either pulled from the soil or completely shredded if they couldn’t be moved.  

You look at the scattered remains of the poor shed’s wall, but don’t look entirely surprised by the backyard warzone you’ve stepped into. You frown down at Sputnik, scratching her between the ears, “what a silly girl,” you coo, rubbing at her ears as the hyena grins up at you with half-lidded eyes, “you shouldn’t be eating all this stuff, it’ll make your tummy sore!” 

Somehow, your baby-talk voice just serves to make Sputnik even giddier, and she eagerly licks at the tips of your fingers. Nikto almost rolls his eyes at the little heart eyes the animal is subjecting you to. It’s impressive, really, how she can remember someone is a friend from only a single interaction.  

When you snap back from your babying of the animal, you quickly refocus. “Hyenas have very powerful jaws, and they love to chew things, so if she doesn’t have enough to keep her entertained then she’ll find something to destroy.”  

“She was given an old tyre a few weeks ago, but it only lasted a few days.” To say he was deeply unimpressed with how quickly she’d torn it to pieces would be an understatement. He knew that Sputnik had quite the bite on her, but to chomp through nine millimetres of rubber like it’s cardboard? Impressive, if a little annoying.  

“How big is your freezer?” you abruptly ask him, and Nikto suddenly worries where this line of questioning is going. Does he need to check the trunk of your car? Regardless, he offers you a nod.  

“Perfect!” You clap your hands together, making Sputnik jump excitedly at the sudden sound, “it’s supposed to be quite hot tomorrow, so I can think of at least one idea for her.” You start listing out what the two of you are going to do rapid-fire with the same confidence and efficiency of any commanding officer.  

You’re in your element, your passion for your work clear as day and you have him following your every instruction. You’re like a fount of knowledge when it comes to anything and everything husbandry related, suggesting changes to Sputnik’s diet, new toys to keep her entertained, and ways to prevent her from destroying anything she really shouldn’t be messing with.  

When you finally end up leaving, it’s long past sundown. Sputnik has grown bored of watching the two of you working in the shed and has retired to her massive dog bed for a nap, so the two of you have been working in comfortable silence. He’s glad you don’t feel the need to fill the air with irritating chatter, only offering corrections here and there.  

He escorts you to back to your truck, closing your door behind you once you’re settled comfortably into the driver’s seat. You roll down the window and offer him a grin, but he can see just how tired you are given how your eyes are slightly drooped. “How much do we owe?” he asks, quickly tearing his gaze from your sweet smile.  

Little wrinkles appear across your forehead as your lips turn downward, an innocent, confused look on your face, “owe you?” 

He resists the urge to roll his eyes and instead just huffs in mild amusement, “payment, for your work.” 

Your eyes light up in understanding and you laugh, “oh, no, don’t worry about that,” you wave him off, “I’m just happy to help out.” You just smile up at him, as if you can’t see anything wrong with what you just said.  

Nikto is forced to remind himself that you’re a civilian, not another untrustworthy operator. Not everyone does things purely for the pay they’ll be rewarded with, even if the very thought of not giving you something in return makes him uncomfortable. He holds his hand out to you, “phone.”  

You blink at him for a second, but quickly do as you’re told, just like the good girl you are. He goes into your contacts and adds his number and details, hitting save the moment he’s done. He doesn’t bother adding a picture, passing your phone back to you, “call us when you require assistance.” He waits until you offer him a nod before he steps back from the side of the car.  

You have an odd, flustered look on your face for some reason, but you’re quick to snap out of whatever daze you're in and give him a quick wave as you put your truck into reverse. He watches silently as you disappear back down the driveway and into the steadily darkening evening, waiting until you’re out of sight.  

Sputnik is absolutely delighted the following morning when Nikto presents her with her blood and peanut butter ice block.

-

Translations

“да,” - “Yes” 

“Я не знал, что ты такая королева драмы,” - “I didn't know you were such a drama queen,”  

“место!” - “Stay!” 

“Спутник!” - “Sputnik!” 

“ко мне!” - “Come!”  

#writing #call of duty modern warfare #reader insert #call of duty nikto #cowboy au #nikto x reader #fanfic

[masonmyluv]

University and Goals - Epilogue

A/N: and with this, the story about Fermin x uni!reader ends 🥺 I hope you enjoyed the story and let me know if you are interested in more stories about Fermin. Thank you to everyone who read the story and left comments, they were super motivating ❤️ I wish you a Merry Christmas 🎄 and see you next year 🫶🏼

Warnings: noneeee

Read the whole story here

ferminlopez

ferminlopez I want to share with you my little ray of sunshine 💞 I've never been happier. So, all I'm asking all of you is to respect our privacy 🫶🏻

pablogavi This made me cry 🥺

↪️ ferminlopez Cabron...

lamineyamal Fermin scoring on and off the pitch 👀

↪️ ferminlopez 😉

pedri 😍😍

RobertLewi happy for the both of you 🙌🏻

↪️ ferminlopez Gracias 🙏🏼

yourusername Babe 😭😭😭 this is so cute

↪️ ferminlopez  you weren't supposed to be here

↪️ yourusername stfu THIS IS MY BOYFRIEND❤️

↪️ ferminlopez ❤️

ferminfan NOOO!!! My dreams are crushed now 😭

↪️ pedrixgavifan we have Gavi and Pedri

↪️ gavimylove exactly! Who needs Fermin anyways

↪️ gavixxxlove yeah! He's ugly af

yourusername

yourusername If you think this is ugly, you should get your eyes checked 😉

pedri 😳

pablogavi I need a gf like her 😭

↪️ yourusername Awww 🥹

alebalde muy guapo

↪️ yourusername SÌ

ferminlopez um baby, what's this? 😅

↪️ Pablogavi it's your gf standing up for you, puta

↪️ pedri don't you ever let her go or 🔫🔫🔫

↪️ ferminlopez okay guys got it 😃

gavifanpedri Still ugly

↪️ ferminfan stfu

↪️ ferminnnlopez32 go touch some grass

↪️ gavixxxlove Gavi >>> Fermin

↪️ ferminfan trash >>> your opinion

yourusername

yourusername Movie date nights with my fav person 🫶🏼

ferminlopez ❤️

pedri you don't like horror movies 🤨

↪️ yourusername I know, but I think he wanted to cuddle all the time yk

↪️ pedri oooh Fermin 😳😼

↪️ ferminlopez I hate that she's smart sometimes

↪️ yourusername you'll pay for it 🙂

pablogavi he was scared too 😂

↪️ ferminlopez no, I wasn't

↪️ pablogavi that's why you asked me to come with you to turn the lights on in the bathroom 😂

↪️ yourusername I'm dying 🤣

↪️ ferminlopez thanks Gavi 🙄

ferminlopez

ferminlopez My little witch 🩷 the Hermione to my Ron ❤️

pedri that's why you were tired today at training 😶

↪️ ferminlopez she made me watch all of them bro 🥲

↪️ yourusername and we'll watch them 1000 times 😁😁😁

↪️ ferminlopez nooooo

ferminfan can he be more perfect? 😭😭😭

↪️ yourusername Idk we'll see

yourusername Pedri Potter 🪄

↪️ pedri 😁

↪️ ferminlopez 🥲

yourusername the Ron to my Hermione and the Harry to my Ginny ❤️

↪️ ferminlopez 🩷🫶🏼

yourusername

yourusername Surprised him at practice 🥰

pablogavi he just wanted to impress you

↪️ marcosalonso he's not even that good (jk)

ferminlopez best surprise ❤️

↪️ pedri Xavi doesn't agree

↪️ pablogavi yeah, he was distracted all the time

↪️ fcbarcelona we were happy to have her there 🩷

↪️ yourusername Awww 🥹

yourusername

yourusername Vamos Barça 💙❤️

fcbarcelona ❤️

ferminlopez my lucky charm 🫶🏼🩷

↪️ yourusername 🥺

pedri petition for Y/N to come to every game 📃

↪️ pablogavi ✍🏼

↪️ marcosalonso ✍🏼

↪️ robertlewi ✍🏼

↪️ frenkiedejong ✍🏼

↪️ fcbarcelona ✍🏼

↪️ ferminlopez ✍🏼✍🏼✍🏼

↪️ yourusername ✍🏼🥺

mikky welcome to the wag group 🤍

↪️ yourusername thank youu 🥺🩷

ferminlopez

ferminlopez end of an era 👨🏼‍🎓🎉

fcbarcelona Felicidades!

Pablogavi if it weren't for Y/N...

↪️ lamineyamal he would have failed each class 🤣

↪️ ferminlopez go to school Lamine 😒

↪️ yourusername guys...

yourusername so happy to share this moment with you. Love u 🤍

↪️ ferminlopez love you too ❤️

↪️ pablogavi too cute I'm dying 🥹

yourusername

yourusername That's a wrap! 🧑🏼‍🎓 Uni taught me some things and the most important would be to be grateful. I'm grateful for the opportunity to study here, I'm grateful for the friends that I made, I'm grateful for my boyfriend with whom I got to spend this wonderful moment 🥰 HATS OFF WE'RE FREE

ferminlopez so proud of you ❤️

↪️ yourusername so proud of us 🩷

pablogavi congrats amigaaa 🥳

↪️ yourusername 🥹

pablogavi the smart girl and the .... guy

↪️ ferminlopez hey! 🤨😑

↪️ yourusername and the smart guy ❤️ siempre

↪️ ferminlopez see who loves me 🥹

↪️ pedri Gavi seguro que no 🤣

yourmom 🥹❤️

↪️ yourmom btw I have to meet this boy

↪️ pedri 😳😳😳 good luck man

↪️ yourusername ofc mom 🩷

↪️ pablogavi things are getting serious here 😏

↪️ yourusername shush you

yourusername

yourusername One year with you ❤️ Feeling loved and blessed 🥰🤍

ferminlopez love u 🩷

pablogavi isn't he the cutest?🥺

↪️ yourusername he really is 🥺🥺🥺

pedri he loves the beach as I can see

↪️ yourusername it's so romantic 🥺☺️

↪️ pedri good thing he doesn't love the other word read the same 😶

↪️ ferminlopez 🔫 pedri

gavixpedri he made that card by himself? 😩

↪️ yourusername yes he did 🥰

↪️ gavixpedri omg 😭 queen

mikky so cute 🩷

ferminlopez

ferminlopez One year with you, the best year of my life and hoping for spending every year from now on together ❤️ Thank you for always being there for me

pablogavi you didn't make a post about our 10 years of friendship 😒😒

↪️ ferminlopez I talk about you in every interview 🙄

↪️ pablogavi not enough 😑

yourusername te amo ❤️❤️❤️

↪️ ferminlopez ❤️

↪️ yourusername wanna spend my whole life with you 😭🥺🥺🥺

↪️ ferminlopez me too 🫶🏼

↪️ Pedri this is so disgusting

↪️ yourusername stfu Gonzalez 😑

Hope you liked it ❤️

#fermin lopez #football imagine #fermin lopez marin #fermin lopez smut #fermin lopez fluff #fermin lopez imagine #fermin x reader #fermin lopez x reader #insta au

[theintrovertbean]

Remember when I posted this? This is what I meant when I said I was writing something about high heels.

Summary: Nadia has beautiful legs and y/n wholeheartedly agrees.

This isn't smut, but there's some naughtiness implied. So, just to be safe, minors DNI.

Linguistics classes are boring, so I spend them writing about Nadia instead 🤗 That's just what I do, write adult content when I should be paying attention to my seminars. I will keep doing it.

I wrote like half of this at uni instead of listening to whatever the fuck that class was, and my friend sitting next to me was like o.o when they looked at my phone. But the bitch is back (no, not really, I'm just blessing you with a crumb of content before I retreat to my hiding again.) Anyway, I thought I'd give myself a break and write for the sake of writing about something that doesn't give me anxiety, and what's better than Nadia's legs to ease my stress? Damn, that rhymes. Don't mind my little vent, idk why I'm even writing this but it's almost 3 am and I no longer care.

Anyway, I hope you'll enjoy it. Have a good one, simps!

Heeled Seduction (Nadia x Reader)

She's a strong, smart woman. She can take care of herself and she doesn't need help. But when I watch her undress and then put on her extravagant gown for the upcoming event, I can't help but notice her high heels waiting for her to put them on. I remind myself that no, she does not need help with something so trivial, but the more I entertain the thought, the more tempting it becomes.

She sits down on a plush chair and pushes a stray piece of hair behind her ear. My heart melts at the sight of her, but if I want to do this, then this is my chance.

"Nadia," I call out her name. It comes naturally to me at this point as she's had me cry out her name in pleasure countless times.

She looks at me with curiosity in her intense gaze. "Yes, love?"

I don't answer. I simply walk toward her and then lower myself onto one knee in front of her. My Countess raises an eyebrow, the corners of her lips curling up into one of those cheeky smiles that I love so much. She watches me with interest, awaiting my next move.

I gently lift her foot and guide it into the shoe, my fingers brushing against her delicate skin and I can feel her shiver beneath my touch. Having such an effect on the embodiment of perfection, on a goddess like her, fills me with pride.

"Oh my," She begins with a smile. "How attentive of you, my darling. Allow me to assist you."

Then she grabs a fistful of her dress, slowly, teasingly lifting it higher to give me better access. She reveals her strong thigh, only to my eyes, and I have to gulp. Inch by inch, she tortures me with her beauty. I'm quite certain she knows that she doesn't have to lift it so high. My sweet, loving Nadia—always teasing me at every chance she gets.

Encouraged by her seduction, I put my hand on her other leg, fingers caressing and massaging her strong calf gently. "Have I ever told you," I lean forward, pressing a kiss onto her skin right under her knee. "how beautiful your legs are?"

"Hm, I don't think you have," My Countess answers, the tone of her voice warm and low and the smile on her face playful but loving. "Why don't you elaborate?"

"Well, your skin is so soft here," I say and lift her leg, putting it over my shoulder. "I love how it feels against my mouth. So delicate and smooth." When I brush my lips against her thigh and my breath caresses her, I can see her clutching the armrest just a little tighter. "But your legs are also very strong." I rest my hand on the side of her thigh, drawing circles into it with my thumb. "Perfect for..." I drag my lips across her skin, going higher and higher until I can feel the heat radiating from her core. "Smothering."

My love chuckles and I look up to see her cheeks colored with a blush. "Aah, yes, they'd look so beautiful around your head."

"They certainly would," I smirk against her inner thigh and I'm certain she wants nothing more than for me to continue. "But!" I exclaim and put her leg down, shifting my body away from hers. "We have a party to attend. The rest can wait."

I swear I can hear her mutter a small damn you, y/n under her breath while I quickly put on her other high heel. When I finish, I immediately feel her fingers grasping my chin, guiding me to look up at her. "When it is done, I hope you intend to use that teasing, wicked mouth of yours for something more pleasurable," She whispers to me, and I can already feel my cheeks burning under her gaze. Here, at the feet of my mistress, my countess, my love, I feel a sense of belonging.

"If that's what milady wishes."

#and then they smashed #nadia satrinava #countess nadia #the arcana nadia #nadia the arcana #arcana nadia #the arcana #nadia arcana #arcana #nadia x mc #nadia x apprentice #nadia x reader

[cupoftaae]

8? With Jungkook?🤞🏻

"please dont go....I cant be alone right now" x Jungkook

thank you for the request! Hope you enjoy <3

warnings- jungkook has a bad day waaa, fluffy, minor angst, reader and him are cute

The thud of Jungkooks backpack at the front door could be heard throughout the house, making you jump.

"kook?" you called out, "you home?"

After no response, you left the office room and made your way to the kitchen, where you saw your boyfriend searching for something to eat.

"Hi baby, I made dinner" you come up behind him and rub his back

He flinches a bit, making you frown. "oh, hi baby, thanks" he turns to see you-your height in perfect lining for his lips to meet your forehead.

"how was work? you alright my love?" you asked quietly, hand gently rubbing the skin under his shirt.

Jungkook hummed, "it was ok I guess..."

"yeah?" you looked up at him lovingly

"I just missed you" he shrugged, mumbling a bit

"oh sweet boy I missed you too..." you kissed his cheek and hugged him closer.

He released a shaky sigh and hugged you back, the strength of his arms squeezing you tightly.

"are you sure youre okay?" you whispered "because...its ok if you arent" you pulled away from his chest to see his face, his eyes now watery as he tried to even his breathing, almost as if he spoke he knew he would end up sobbing.

"honey..." you pouted and brushed his bangs away, cupping his face, "whats going on? talk to me so I can help"

He shook his head, looking down as a stray tear fell, making his hastily wipe his face with the back of his hand. "its just" he began quietly, "work....everything. its stressful"

You nod, "I know sweetheart"

"I kept messing up the vocals today and everyone was getting mad with me, I just felt like....i dont even know, I felt like a burden to be in the studio" he wiped another tear, sighing and looking at the ceiling.

"Kookie you know that you arent a burden, right? the boys all love you so fucking much...they need you, and they were probably just tired and cranky because you all need sleep and wont rest despite me scolding them" you breathe out a laugh, making him half smile

"I promise, you are so loved and important, so many people admire you, especially me" you pointed at yourself, making him giggle. "its ok to have tough days, its what makes us stronger, its part of being a human, however its how you react to it- thats how you grow and learn and become a better person, right?"

"right" he nodded, looking at you and squeezing your hands.

You scanned over his face and smiled softly, "do you want to take a bath?"

"yeah" he smiled

-

You placed a few towels on the counter near the tub, where your boyfriend sat.

"the lavender is nice" he spoke, eyes closed as he rested his head against the railing of the tub. "I told you, bath bombs arent just for girls" you giggled

"well it had a unicorn on it for christ sake" he opened one eye to see you, smiling.

"hey unicorns are uni-sex, get it?" you poked

"you...are so fucking corny" he laughed

"but you found it funny!"

"whatever"

you smiled at him, watching his face and admiring his beauty for a moment while his eyes were shut, he was so amazing and loved by you, and he would only know half of it.

"well baby, im gonna go wrap up work in my office, call me if-"

"no, please dont go....I cant be alone right now" he frowned, eyes opening up to see you at the door.

You frowned before nodding, silently making your way to sit in front of the tub. You werent gonna push him to talk, you knew he was struggling today and thats all you needed to hear.

He just needed a little extra love and affection like we all do somedays, its human.

We need hugs, we need to be told we are loved, we deserve to be loved, and valued.

He always made you feel his appreciation for you in any way possible, so you of course wanted to pay it back.

You carefully washed his hair and mindlessly chatted about random things, he seemed to have calmed down a lot in the time being, which made you happy.

He had insisted you join him in the tub-so you did.

"its getting cold, the water..." you mumble, head against his chest.

"meh.....its like lukewarm" he looked down at you, giggling, "are you about to sleep right now?"

"probably" you whisper

"no baby, lets get into bed" he smiled, jokingly patting your butt to get you off.

You pulled away to look at him, smiling, "I love you, you know that?"

the slight pink tint on his cheeks didnt go unnoticed, "yeah...." he giggled, "I love you too...you know that?"

"everyday"

#bts #bts fluff #bts smut #bts fanfic #jungkook #bts jeon jeongguk #jungkook scenarios #jeon jungkook #jungkook fluff #jungkook angst #bts requests #requests open #open requests #jungkook x reader

[teddybeartoji]

Okiee friend roommie gojo takes you on a motorcycle at midnight to random places like the riverside or some food stall or whatever. Especially when you aren't feeling good (my current mood <3). There's less to no people at night, which is perfect!... Taking a walk with him. Orrr simply sitting on his motorcycle and chatting with him while he stands front to you.. ykwim😭

HELLOO????? HOW DOES IT FEEL TO HAVE A MASSIVE BRAIN, HMM????? THAT'S SO DELICIOUS????? see, i don't think i would've really even considered roomie!gojo owning a fuCKING MOTORCYCLE???? YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH YEAH THANK YOU FOR THAT MY LOVELY

btw you guys literally have matching helmets!!!!! he immediately bought one seeing how excited you got after seeing the bike. not to be a basic bitch but how fucking sexy is a white and blue bike?????? my eyes just rolled back into my head holy shit. anyway. matching helmets matching helmets matching helmets!!!! i think he'd love the ones that have the ears on them too lmao he's a little cutie. he also bought you your own racing jacket too!!!!!!!!! i mean he has the money so he didn't even blink an eye at the thought of buying you your own gear bc like... he would never even think about having you on the bike without atleast a helmet!!!! he's not a reckless driver at all and i genuinely don't think he'd speed at all (maybe only a little on highways and only when there isn't a lot of ppl)(he would rather die than to put you in danger like that)

and he'd 100000000000000% go on late night drives with you!!!! he sees you moping and his heart sinks:((((( at first he just tries to ask about it but when you're still looking so out of it, he offers the drive. he helps you put on the helmet and then gently headbutts you after putting his on. he loves the way your eyes smile through the small glass opening and he just already feels a bit better, a bit prouder to have made you smile.

he offers you his hand as you're taking a seat behind him and he always gets so giddy when your arms circle around him. he loves it, he really does. he waits for you to get comfortable and rest your head against his back before even turning on the engine.

you have a code that whenever you want to say something, you squeeze his thighs. when you need to stop, like stop stop, you slap his thigh. he made that rule and he didn't even let you onto the bike before making you repeat it three times for like the first five times. he doesn't play around, i'm telling you. sometimes, you like to tease him for it, for being a pussy but he isn't fazed at all. he just smiles at you and calls you his precious cargo.

okay, so i like the idea of him taking you somewhere extra quiet - maybe you even already have your spot, too? maybe a more hidden part the riverside, somewhere it's certain that you'll be alone. he parks the bike and ofc offers you his hand when you start climbing off. he smooths your hair after you pull the helmet off, making a quiet like jokes about you looking fucking insane and no matter how stupid his comments and jokes are, he always gets a laugh out of you. even if it's the smallleeeest teeniest tiniest little smile.

he takes your hand and tugs you to the lonely little food stall. the person who's managing it has seen the two of you so many times and they're fully convinced that you guys are a couple btw. gojo always pays. ALWAYS. he literally gets upset when you try. sometimes at home he whines about always paying but when you actually get to the paying part he just pushes you away??????? smh he's an idiot but he's OUR idiot.

he let's you eat before asking about your day again. he let's you rant his ears off if that's what you decide to do. he leans against the motorcycle as you pace back and forth in front of him and he's so invested!!!! no matter whether it's work drama, uni drama, some sort of friendship drama or something more personal - he's all ears. he tries to crack a few jokes here and there but he keeps it low as he's gauging your emotions. yk if you're laughing a bit more, he turns the joke machine up a notch but if not... he just let's you talk it out.

btw if you're not in a talking mood at all, he probably does the talking himself to try and distract you from whatever is bothering you. he's telling you about the new parts he wants to put on his bike, he's telling you about his day, about the people he saw on the streets, about the new comic he's reading etc etc etc. he probably invites you to rest against his chest as he does so, faintly swaying back and forth. he watches the streetlamps reflect on your skin as you rest your eyes, breathing in his cologne.

and after a while he offers to go back home. he tells you that he can take the long way or the short one, whichever suits you best. it could be 3am and he wouldn't dare rush you. he is prepared to do anything to make you feel better!!!!!!!!!!! he's such a good roomie!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

#what a glorious glorious idea nonnie #are you actually megamind? #yes or yes? #thank u for blessing me with this holy fuck #this randomly got like long? #but it is what it is #mwah mwah mwah nonnie ily #friends!! #angel boy #gojo satoru #gojo satoru headcanons #jjk headcanons #mickey is daydreaming #roomie!gojo

[v3nusxsky]

Notice me

*Authors note~ I love writing for Emily so god damn much it hurts*

Trigger warning ~ cases mention homophobia ?

Prompt~ r is a BAU member mainly desk work but occasionally on the field. Garcia is closest with her bc of the fact she's rarely on the field and she sometimes helps Garcia with tech stuff. She's got a massive crush on Emily but Emily doesn't notice her until one day she does.

Being a member of the FBI was certainly something. Not a job for anyone with a weak stomach. Now of course you hardly went out on the field, mainly you stayed with Garcia to help back at Quantico. Naturally you had become close with the quirky women. Instantly, you noted her flirty nature with Derek and often teased her about it. Although you knew they were only friends you loved to tease her.

That's why you were unsurprised that once she had picked up on a slight blush you had from the one and only Emily Prentiss, she just knew that it would be a great way to get pay back. Harmless banter and she had sworn not to tell Emily of your attraction to her. You were pretty sure she didn't even know you existed, but you couldn't help but fall for her. I mean who wouldn't? She was absolutely gorgeous, her humour was top tier and don't even get started on the fact she knows just how to wield a gun and put even the toughest guys in their place. There was just something about that women that drove you crazy, yet she doesn't even know you exist.

You worked in the background for a few months before the opportunity arose for you to be introduced to Emily. Hotch had instructed you and Garcia to grab your go bag and get to them asap. This is something you most definitely weren't expecting but apparently they desperately needed you both in the field. You got there as quick as you could, and that is when you were told the plan. You had to help be bait. Part of the strategy was to have the rest of the team set up outside ready to pounce while they wanted you at the bar they knew he would be at.

Safety in numbers, you had been paired with Emily. The nerves you felt were more from the fact you would be with Emily rather than baiting the unsub. Part of the cover was to act as though you and Emily were a couple, the unsub seemingly striking at the same sex couples that matched your descriptions. For you it was unusual to be baiting the unsub however, for Emily it wasn't the first time and it wouldn't be the last. You had direct instructions from Hotch to follow Emily's lead, naturally your submissive nature would make that easy for you. Or well it should've.

The bar you were attending was a very local dive bar, not somewhere you would've chosen to go but this was for business not for pleasure. You choose to wear a tight form fitting sapphire blue dress that showed off just enough skin to be teasing but not enough to be slutty. And your girlfriend for the night had adorned a simple tight black dress that hugged all the right places. If you thought she was gorgeous in work attire well then now she was drop dead gorgeous. It was all finished off with raven curls and Smokey eye makeup. It wouldn't be hard to pretend to be her girlfriend what so ever.

The bar was loud and bright, packed with young adults and uni students, the perfect place to go victim hunting as most of not all were already highly intoxicated due to the cheep alcohol. You and Emily made your way to the bar and ordered a drink, just for the appearance although you both knew you could drink just one and be absolutely fine, you both decided that it would make sense to have a clear head.

Straight away your beautiful companion started to profile the people present and identified the unsub starring creepily in your direction. Only then did she realise you didn't look in love enough so she brought her hand to rest on your thigh causing you to gasp and look into her beautiful eyes. Instantly you could tell she was urging you to play along which you did as she brought her lips to yours.

The one and only Emily Prentiss was kissing little old you. And this didn't feel so pretend anymore when her tongue traced your lips asking for entrance which you gladly gave the women. Quite simply this was the best kiss of your life and you didn't want it to end but you both needed air. The unsub began to advance on you both when the rest of the team had pulled him into arrest, Emily stood up and went over to help while you sat there in shock. Weren't you gonna talk about that? Apparently not as she went outside with the others to hand the unsub over to the local police department. You quickly down your drink before walking outside where Garcia was waiting for you with a knowing smile until she caught sight of the tears that glistened in your eyes.

"Oh honey, what happened? I thought you'd be happy she kissed you!" She almost squealed trying to understand the reaction. You just turned to look at the women who's lips had been on yours as she was bantering with Morgan and Reid. "She doesn't even notice me Pen, that kiss meant nothing to her, just a rouse but to me it was everything and now I have to go back into the shadows pretending I don't know what she tastes like or how her hand feels on my thigh" you finished off with a sad sigh. Unfortunately that would be just facts you were stating before trailing off into a massive rant about how you wished she felt the same, wished she would notice you in the way you noticed her and how there would never be anyone else for you but her. No one could compare to the raven haired beauty.

If you were thinking more rationally you would've noticed how Penelope's eyes widened looking at a figure approaching behind you. "Um, Y/n you may wanna turn around" she whispered breaking you from your rant. Any words left died on your lips instantly as Emily stood behind you with her signature smirk that drove you wild and a mischievous glint in her eyes. "Em-agent Prentiss, I god im sorry" you squeaked out embarrassment shining through as you realised she'd probably heard you complaining about how your love is unrequited. The moment Emily offered to take you back to the hotel for a drink was the moment Garcia left to go and find Derek giving you a discreet wink. Holy shit you were going back to her hotel room, you had to be dreaming. Right?

Word count ~ 1176

*Author's note~ anyone want part 2 ;)*

#fanfic #emily prentiss x you #emily prentiss x y/n #emily prentiss fanfiction #emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #criminal minds fanfic

[monstersandmaw]

Unseelie story;

I absolutely find it hilarious that its the perfect fine, normal, human friend that's the one who gets into hijinks while out with their succubus friend, who you would think is actually the one who scampers off to cause trouble when their human friend's back is turned 😂

I can't imagine the surprise on the human mc's when she finds out she asked an Unseelie PRINCE for help.

Succubus; Wait... you asked him for help?

MC: Yeah... well, he wasn't exactly willing at first, but I pulled out the old puppy dog eyes and-

Succubus: He's a Prince.

MC: ...he's a what?

WIP snippet treats for anon. WIP snippet treats for anon for a thousand years.

—

“I need a drink,” Lena hissed through clenched teeth. “This place sucks.”

“Len…” her friend began in concerned tones. “Len, what the fuck happened while I was gone?”

“I thought that pretending some random hot guy was my boyfriend would get that creep to back off,” she said as she took a seat at the bar and tried to get the attention of the bartender. “It worked, I guess.”

“You guess?” Jen breathed. “Len, do you know who the fuck that was?” she asked, her purple eyes wide and frightened for the first time that Lena could ever recall.

“No? Who is he?” she asked as ice slid slowly through her gut.

“Only the gods-damned Unseelie fucking Prince,” she snarled, the air around her sparking visibly like static on a winter jumper. “Creators, do you have a death wish? Did you perchance tell him your Name while you were at it? What did he ask in return for fending that creep off? How many years of servitude? Oh gods, did he take your soul?”

“Jen, calm down,” Lena said, confusion pulling at her expression. “I didn’t give him anything and he didn’t ask me for anything. He just… pulled me into his lap and kissed me bloody senseless, and then when the bastard had gone, I thanked him and walked away.”

“You… You ‘thanked’ him?” she bleated, looking horrified in a way Lena couldn’t understand. “Oh shit, Lena…”

“What? Is it rude to be polite to a prince now?” she asked. She’d have been lying if she’d said her heart rate wasn’t rising to about a thousand bpm at the realisation that she’d just snogged an Unseelie Fae, and a prince no less, but she hid it as best she could and waited for Jen to tell her what was really going on.

“Have you learned nothing at all about Fae in the three years we were at uni together? You don’t thank a Fae, Len.”

“I thank you all the time,” she countered as heat rose in her cheeks that had nothing at all to do with the temperature of the club.

“Yeah, but we’re friends. That’s different. Fae don’t do ‘favours’ for people, and definitely not royal Fae, Len. You do something and you get something in return but you always decide what the price is beforehand, otherwise they can ask you for something ludicrous, like… like the moon or your beating heart in a jar.” Jen paused, and when Lena just stared at her in blank horror, she spat, “If you say ‘thank you’, it dismisses what they did for you, and implies you won’t pay them at all, and only your betters can do that. So you just implied that you’re on the same social standing as the fucking Unseelie Prince, Lena.”

“Oh,” she said. “Shit.”

#Unseelie fae prince #succubus bestie #anon ask #fae x human #unseelie fae x human #wip

[sensei-venus]

So what if one day chubby reader comes to the dealership because she needs her car looked at. Daniel comes up to her to ask what she needs because she looks so shy and lost, so he wants to help. She's also really cute. So she explains how her car is making their really weird sound and he tells her he'll personally take a look at it, so they go to the garage and he takes off his suit jacket and rolls up his sleeves. He puts on a little show for the cute chubby girl. She must have just gotten out of college is what he's thinking, as she's only wearing jeans and her uni tee shirt. She's nervously checking her phone while trying not to check him out, not being too subtle.

He tells her what the problem is and that it's fixable, she'll just have to come in and speak to his wife about some paperwork and payment while the crew starts working on it. He leads her inside and to Amanda's office, introduces them and sits her down. He explains the situation and tells Amanda what's going to need to be done in order to fix it. It's not too pricy so he doesn't even want to bother with making Reader pay for it, which she objects to because she can pay for it, she's good for it. However, Amanda agrees with her husband, smiling so kindly at Reader and telling her that she won't have to pay a single pretty penny for it. After all, she's not even the person in the dealership she needs to pay. She knows there's a whole other reason her husband brought this sweet little thing into her office and it's quite evident by the tent in his pants.

Next thing Reader knows, her pants are around her ankles, her shirt is pulled over her tits, Amanda's dress is bunched up around her hips, and their pussies are rubbing together so beautifully. She's whining on Amanda's lap, flustered and hiding her face in the older woman's shoulder. All while Daniel is jerking his cock while he watches them. Amanda's enjoying herself as she plays with Reader's pussy, telling her how cute she is while running her fingers through her folds. She's asking her all sorts of questions, getting to know her, telling her how adorable it is that she's just graduated uni and is going to be a children's teacher. She asks if Reader likes kids and smirks at her husband as the young woman nods into her shoulder.

Then Daniel picks her up off of his wife and lays her out on the desk, rubbing his cock through her folds. She's so whiny, whimpering as she watches them kiss over her. Amanda starts playing with her fat tits, pinching her nipples and groping her. Next her hands glide down her belly and hips, groping them as well as she speaks to her husband. "She's so pretty, Daniel, you really know how to pick 'em." He just chuckles, flattered, as he taps the end of his cock on Reader's swollen clit.

"Well when they're cute like she is, I can't help myself."

Reader is just there, loving how they're talking about her as if she can't hear them. Her pussy is drooling, slick and ready for a big cock. She reaches down and pulls her lips apart, showing off her perfect little hole. "Please," she begs, "i-i need you..."

"Hear that, honey? She needs you," Amanda teases and starts rubbing slow circles onto Reader's clit, making her moan.

"Who am I to deny her?"Daniel asks and positions his cock at her entrance. He pushes in and feels how tight her walls are. He groans and shoves the rest of his cock into her u told he's buried to the hilt, making her feel full. "Oh fuck, I'm gonna ruin this fat little cunt."

"Ruin me..." Reader babbles softly, already feeling hazy because she's so full of cock and Amanda's making her head all fuzzy. "Please..."

"Don't worry, baby," Amanda soothes her, playing with her tit and clit at the same time. "We will... you're not gonna want anyone else after we breed you."

"Breed... breed me?"

"That's right," Daniel says, slowly pulling out until onto the tip is left in her clenching hole. "You're not leaving here until your cunt's full of my cum."

He shoves himself back into her roughly, setting the pace immaculately while Amanda kisses her to keep her quiet.

(This just came to mind and I thought you'd enjoy it)

- gemini sensei

( @gemini-sensei )

This is just amazing, uhhhh Iv been thinking about this for a while now. Had a similar thought a while aback and this just makes me think back on it.

But yessss.

I could imagine Daniel and Amanda talking about the idea of adding someone new to their relationship. The kids are mostly on their own for the most part and never around, making them have more alone time and even a bit lonely around the house.

Both of them even think about kids again, just for fun. The idea of having the sound of little feet running around the house again. Amanda cooed at the idea and so did Daniel. It’s constantly on their minds.

When Daniel pulls the cute little chubby girl into her office to talk about her “car payment” she knew instantly that Daniel was interested and trying to show off/hint to Amanda “I like this one, we should keep her” but also like you said, his boner isn't helping. As Amanda asks her questions she slowly starts taking a liking to her personality, not just her hot body.

The tight little college shirt isn't helping though, because it's barley keeping her tits in, it's tight against her belly and arms.

The minute she has the cubby girls fat pussy grinding against her own, she's sold on the idea of keeping her for themselves. It just feels so right. The girl just fits perfectly with her, with them.

When she mentions the idea of breeding her, it pure. She wanted to see her husband destroy they girls pussy, she wanted her to he filled to the brim with hot cum. She wanted to see it drip down her folds and drip out onto her desk. Even the idea of seeing the all round and pregnant was sending her.

Daniel is just as much on bored when be grins at her and thrusts back in.

(I love this so much omg, if you end up making this please tag me or something, this is so good.)

#cobra kai #cobra kai blog #cobra kai ask blog #poly daniel and amanda #poly relationship #cobra kai smut #cobra kai smut thought #smut thoughts #daniel larusso x reader #daniel larusso x chubby reader #cobra kai daniel larusso #cobra kai amanda #amanda larusso #cobra kia amanda #amanda larusso x reader #amanda larusso x chubby reader

[kairakeiji]

a/n: modern/uni au :)

thoma can’t focus.

no matter how hard he tries, none of the information in his government class is registering in his head. it felt as if it was going in one ear and out the other. he’s trying, he truly is. after all, he needs the good grade in the class. he’s doing everything he does in his usual learning pattern. he’s taking notes, he’s listening intently to the lecture, he even sat close to the front so he’d be less likely to get sidetracked. everything he’s doing spells out perfect student, well everything except answering questions in class.

that’s where you seemed to beat him to the punch, where you beat everyone actually. no matter what the topic of the day was, no matter what the lecture was about you continued to answer the questions other people in the class were scared to answer. maybe that’s where thoma was screwing up. sure, he was listening to the lecture, but he seemed to pay more attention when he heard you answer. sure, he’s taking notes, but they were mostly scribbles about your answers (without even giving them any kind of relevance or context). and sure, he’s sitting in the front of the class, but that also means he’s sitting next to you, the person’s who’s voice and kind smile he can’t seem to get of.

no matter what way thoma looked at it, every issue with his concentration seemed to tie back to you.

he needs some kind of solution, and he needs one fast. it’s a fact he realizes a bit sooner rather than later when he gets his first test score back, a big red C+ on the top left of the page.

if he doesn’t learn how to focus in this class, his gpa is absolutely done for.

his head hits his desk on seeing the test score. he thought it was easy, he really did. thoma was flying through the questions, able to answer all of them effortlessly.

it just seemed as if all those answers he was so confident about were wrong.

thoma hears a laugh, “are you okay?”

no, he’s not, he figures you’d be smart enough to figure that out yourself.

but he still turns to you anyway, heart skipping a beat as you laugh and give him a small wave, one that he returns despite his rather contrasting atttitude.

“i’m fine,” he mumbles, as he sits up, not missing the A at the top of your paper. “i just thought i’d get a better score that’s all.”

“cheer up,” you tell him with a smile. “the first test is always the one people do terrible on.”

and your words feel a bit half hearted considering the 97% at the top of your page.

“people don’t understand the test formats or how the questions are worded,” you explain. “there’s always some confusion with the first exam. so don’t worry! you’ll do better next time.”

and thoma’s wondering if those words rang true to you. after all, it’s only a matter of time until you’re sitting next to him with a 97% on your test while he’s still stuck at a 77%.

but he still grins anyway, “thanks, i appreciate that,” before sighing. “man, i just can’t understand the topics,” he tells you.

“what don’t you understand?” you question.

he laughs, a clipped laugh, but a laugh nonetheless, “everything,” he answers. “i just can’t seem to understand the concepts.”

yeah, thoma thinks, it’s because of you, the person who’s trying to console him, but even then he still doesn’t have it in him to be frustrated with you.

after all, that smile of yours is very pretty.

you think to yourself for a moment, “well, what if i helped you?”

and mentally, thoma refuses. he can’t pay attention around you, he can’t focus around you. what more if you were tutoring him by yourself, one on one, alone.

he just doesn’t see how it could be in his best interests.

so he shakes his head, “it’s fine,” he shrugs. “you’re probably busy with other stuff anyway, i wouldn’t wanna bother you.”

“it’s not a bother,” you answer instantly, voice a bit louder than you intended. “if anything, teaching you can help me get more familiar with the concepts.”

thoma’s certain you don’t need that, especially with the way you answer every question in his class.

“but don’t you have activities and stuff after school?”

“i’m free on tuesdays?”

oh, what a coincidence, he is too.

and thoma thinks for a moment. on one hand, you’re the reason why he can’t focus, why he can’t seem to concentrate in class. but on the other hand, the thought of spending more time with you makes his heart race, and he’s still not too sure why. plus, you’re offering to tutor him for free, something that a broke college kid like him could defintely benefit from.

so he sighs, a hint of pink staining his cheeks when he finally caves, “sounds good to me then.”

you smile, “alright then, i can meet you in the library in the B building around 2 ish?”

“sounds perfect,” he tells you, heartbeat racing.

you nod, “then i’ll see you then thoma.”

and, despite your usually incresdible intelligence, you miss the now prominent blush on thoma’s cheeks as you begin to pack up your things.

“i’ll see you then,” he says before you walk out. and as you walk out the door, his head ends up back on his desk. you’re the root of his problems. the sole reason why he can’t concentrate. yet here he is, mentally celebrating at the fact that you offered to help him.

there’s a grin on his face, one that grows when he thinks about seeing you on tuesday.

and thoma realizes that maybe you weren’t the root of his problems, but the solutions he’s been looking for.

thanks for reading! reblogs/interactions are always appreciated <3

#genshin #genshin impact #genshin x reader #genshin thoma #thoma x reader #genshin impact thoma #genshin drabble #genshin fluff #thoma #thoma drabble #genshin impact fluff #genshin imact drabble #genshin impact x reader #writing.txt

[sourcreammachine]

Charlotte

or, The Day Your Mind and Body Gets Claimed By a Minor Goddess

Alex was an old uni friend of yours. You’d spent most of those hazy years nursing hangovers with food he’d got delivered, relying on his class notes, and flooding the house with more booze than is clinically advisable. He’d spent the years borrowing your games consoles all day every day, getting mortal and relying on the taxis you’d be forced to pay for, and desperately trying to get some sleep over the sound of your questionable choice of men. It was good times.

A small handful of orbits round the Sun later, and you were off the train and at the door of his little terrace in his bigger city. It’d be nice to spend another day chilling with the bastard once again, now that train tickets are something you can afford, with your fancy copywriter job and everything.

The six-foot-something towering twink gets the door open. Somehow he’d only gotten more homosexual in those few years, the hair fluffier, the face more perfected, and with a baggy cardigan to boot. As soon as the door will let you, you squish yourself into your favourite fag in the whole universe, your head buried in his chest making some sort of affectionate noise. Cologne, masculine, not his. You’ve missed him.

The corridor-stairway of the dig is an absolute tip. The landlord hadn’t even put a floor in, that was bare concrete on the ground level and bare something on the steps and first floor. Through the second locked door to his let and it’s landlord’s special top to toe, beige and beige and fake-laminate lino. It’s fairly stark - the current group of renters can’t’ve been here long. Knowing Alex, he’d’ve turned the place into a skip already.

“You need a drink? Tea? Coffee? Squash?” he invites as you get yourself seated on the shitty fake-leather sofa in the kitchen-come-living room. Squash - adorable! He’d not bought it in just for you, the bottle was half-emptied, he’s still very much a squash-drinker. Well, with the economy the way it is, he’s not exactly going to be switching to champagne any time soon, is he? You remember the nights spent getting pissed on student budgets using orange squash to cut just about anything. Your twisting stomach kindly asks you to stop remembering.

You take him up on the offer and break proverbial bread with orange squash. No- peach and orange, or orange and something, something nice. Going up in the world. Yours went down fast, you’d let yourself get parched on the journey up, stupid little thing.

A few rounds of nattering later and a door opens down the corridor, and barefoot steps come towards the everything-room.

“Charlotteeee!” mewls the twink.

“Hiiii!” mewls the Charlotte as she saunters into the room. “Who’s thiiis?”

“Oh, this is Charlotte,” Alex tells you, abruptly turning your way to introduce Charlotte to you rather than you to Charlotte, “my flatmate. And this is Cleo, Cleo from uni.”

“Oh my god, hiiii,” she says to you as she leans back against the kitchen counters. She’s got a black lacy top on, long brown hair, and a face with mascara, red winged eyeliner and lipstick too. It’s like she’s dressed up ready for a night out, at 11am on a Thursday that you and Alex just so happened to both have off from work. The lacy top definitely isn’t casualwear for February temperatures, the front being parted generously in the middle, with the lace darting back and forth between the two halves as if it was being forced open by her massive -

You stop staring at them and give a playful “Hello!” She’s heard of you from Alex’s stories, it turns out. A friend of his is a friend of hers.

“Can I get you a refill?” she offers with a playful swish in her voice, while already coming over to oblige. You don’t even say, making a confused little noise in want of the right words, but in presenting your glass to her she accepts with a warm smile. For fuck’s sake she looks even better from the back - no, compose yourself, girl.

“It’s good to finally meet you, though!” she says as more squash goes into the glass. Finally? You’re not exactly a celebrity.

“You too!” you bungle with a bit of a giggle, of course never having heard of this Charlotte. You thought Alex lived alone these days - but you put two and two together and guess Alex, Charlotte and probably a few more have just moved into this place, without it ever coming up in conversation. She’s bringing the glass back your way, gripped with doting hands of red-painted nails. You can’t help but smell her brilliant scent as she hovers just inches from you - joyous, fruity, exotic but homely, like a scent you could wallow in for a thousand years. Close your legs, whore. You have a boyfriend. Just because she’s unbelievably perfect, just because she’s exactly your type for when you swing that way, doesn’t mean you have the right to cheat on him, and do a disservice to little Alex, no less. She’s gone back to lean on the countertops again, hopefully allowing you space to ignore her perfection and stick your bisexuality in a box, in the corner, sealed with black tape and labelled ‘You Have A Boyfriend’. The squash is wonderful, an unplaceable taste swirling around the definite orange. That little riddle should help you focus on something other than her enormous (no, stop).

Thankfully the Antarctic levels of ice get broken into burgs of banter, and when she comes over to sit on an alleged ‘armchair’ opposite the little sofa you and Alex are sat on, you’ve managed to put the flustering behind you. You feel yourself relaxing, slowly drooping away from your natural rigid and alert position on the sofa’s edge, like you were being forced back into a comfy slouch.

“…no, no - don’t tell anyone, but I’m definitely scared of balloons!” she says after the ball had been rolling for a few minutes. Alex crumples into bouts of laughter. “No seriously, don’t tell anyone!”

“We won’t babe, we won’t -!” Alex tries to say seriously, while struggling to compose himself. It wasn’t that funny, mate.

Charlotte rocks back with giggles too, and looks your way again. “No, like, promise - raise your right hand -” and up goes your right hand, embarrassingly quickly, “and repeat after me: I swear -”

“…I swear,” you swear, with a note of laughter, as though the words were being forced out over a bed of giggles.

“-that I won’t tell another living soul-”

“…that I won’t tell another living soul,”

“-about Charlotte’s phobia of balloons!”

“about Charlotte’s phobia of balloons!” You’re laughing yourself silly at the end of the little ceremony. She had you hook, line and sinker. You fall on Alex in stitches, and he helps you recompose. Your right arm is still up. You lower it hoping they didn’t notice it being up for an embarrassing amount of time.

More banter and laughs, with this girl taking charge of the conversation. It’s a total house-on-fire situation, you can barely remember hitting it off this good with a friend so new.

Alex gets up to piss, leaving you and Charlotte alone for just a few seconds. He’s near the door when he quips “Cleo, promise me you won’t make out with Charlotte when I can’t stop you.” And with a smile on your face, the words slip your mouth faster than a bullet - “I promise!” He laughs and leaves. You felt a stab of awkwardness and worry, you fucking idiot you just gave the game away, but that feeling stabs only once before melting away. It’s like you’ve known her a thousand years. Like she’s your best friend already. Like you’re already on the level to joke about that sort of thing. The bad feelings get swept out of your mind like old ink on a whiteboard.

“You studied the same thing as him, right?” she asks.

“Yeah, history. History and alcohol, mostly.”

“Oh my goddd, I can’t imagine being a student with him! That’s an express ticket to liver failure.” You’ve not seen any alcohol in this house, actually. Odd. “Oh, hand me that glass,” and you hand her that glass, with the unknown orange-fruit all gone.

“I remember that glass - I bought it!” you say as she reaches around to place it on the floor behind her. “Alex made off with it, the bastard!”

“Just like him, you can’t have it back!” she jokes, she, jokes. Oh well, it’s Alex’s glass now.

You’re laughing together. You’ve known her for so long, she really understands your sense of humour.

“Are you comfortable on that sofa?”

“I’ve sat on worse things, I suppose,” you say.

“Give me your hand,” and you give her your hand. You wonder why. “Okay, don’t move,” she lets go of your hand and your arm lies suspended out before you. She gets out of her seat and heads back to the kitchen area. Your neck moves to follow her movements.

“What are you doing?” you say as the humour of the situation starts to run dry against confusion.

“Hmm,” she observes. She opens the fridge - it’s completely empty, except for a solitary bunch of grapes. You fucking hate grapes. You, you always used to joke about it with Alex. She returns to her seat, in front of you, your stiff arm bridging the gap, and places one red grape gently in your hand. “Eat it.”

You hate grapes. You hate them. You bend your arm backwards and, and then you stop - the fruit resting by your lips, the most beautiful woman you’ve ever seen asking you to eat a fruit you hate. She was such a joker, but where’s the joke here? Her eyes are warm and friendly, looking at you with kindness. You’re lost in a whirlpool of confusion.

“No?” you finally say, “Nothing against you or anything, but I hate grapes, they’re di-” the grape is between your teeth, you have placed it in your mouth, it is resting on your tongue, it’s supple skin delivering refrigerated, soggy cold.

“Remember to chew,” and you remember to chew. Slowly your tongue delivers the package to your left molars, and they close down upon it. Juice squirts back on to your tongue and everywhere, sour, horrible, unpleasant. You inhale sharply, you squint, you wiggle your neck ever so slightly, and the wiggles slow, and your neck seizes up, and you’re left, eyes open, chewing the grape in front of her. “Swallow,” and you swallow. You’re breathing sharply, it’s, that’s… that’s the only way you show the unpleasantness of eating the worst thing ever, with your neck stiff, with your eyes locked with hers.

It’s… confusion. You just ate your own least favourite food just because she told you to.

“How do you feel?” she asks.

“Confused?” you reply with, with an odd tone… one that would seem to be attempting an edge-cutting chuckle, but you can’t seem to move your torso in a way that would get a chuckle out. If she was flirting, it was the weirdest flirting you’ve ever seen. But, it worked, didn’t it? You ate the grape for her? No, it didn’t work - you hated having to do that, why did she make you do that?

“Why did you make me do that?”, your tone starting to flatten out, the best voice you can put on while your upper body is paralysed. While your upper body is paralysed. While your whole body is paralysed - you try to move any muscle, you try to stand up, but you can’t move.

You wear the stab of fear on your face - and she notices. “Don’t try,” and you stop trying. You are locked in place. “Remember, don’t be loud,” and you will not be loud.

“What’s happening? What have you done?” you speak, at conversational volume. She’s standing up, and she’s kneeling on the floor in front of you, picking up your hand. She massages your palm with her thumb.

“You won’t worry. You’ll be calm,” and you won’t worry, you’ll be calm. You could feel a little tide of panicked tears approach your eyes, but you know, that’s the end of it. You don’t worry. You are calm. A fear, panicked and flailing, is replaced with simply being here and now. You ate the grape, as she instructed. You don’t move, as she instructed. You became calm, as she instructed. She’s in control now.

“What’s my name?”

“Your name is Charlotte,” you say, with a calmed and honest tone.

“What’s my name?”

“Your name is Charlotte.”

“What’s my name?”

“Your name is Charlotte.” Her name was Charlotte. You’d ask what her name was, in case you were being tricked. You thought to ask. You would ask her what her name was. You did not ask her what her name was. The waves of questions lashed and failed to produce words out of your mouth. Was ‘Charlotte’ a wrong answer? She didn’t say…

“How are you feeling?”

“I’m feeling better.” What? What kind of an answer was that? But you knew, it was honest, and it was, somehow, the information she wanted. Alex has been pissing for a very long time.

“Do you love me?”

“I love you,” you tell the woman you met minutes ago, as she seems to root around in your head and take any information she pleased. You didn’t love her, you had the hots for her but that’s different, you - you love her. This was love. There wasn’t a feeling of horniness, there was a feeling of love.

“Love me more,” and you love her more. You’re… here with her, and that fills you with a feeling you can’t describe. You… Her. She’s everything. She’s everywhere. To think anything is to think of her, to imagine anything is to imagine her. All possible thoughts lead to her, like the winding branches of a tree always leading to the same leaf. You’re a drop in the ocean, you can feel that everything around you is Her, She gives you everything, She is your place, She is your everything. And she’s just kneeling in front of you with your hand in hers.

It’s… and you feel it. Creeping. Inside. It’s physical, a tingling sensation deep inside your skull spreading outwards, and it’s… it’s in your mind too, taking parts of you, your emotions, your thoughts processes, your memories, your dreams, and twisting Her over it like an infestation of vines. You… you are Cleo. You are an entry-level copywriter. You are a history graduate. But you, have memories. You follow the threads of your life backwards but they just keep going, your own life, your own memories… attached, integrated into… Her. She’s, She’s forever. She’s so much bigger than you. She’s the most important thing to ever happen.

“What’s my name?”

“Your name, is Charlotte,” you quiver out, incorrectly. You followed the threads of memory but couldn’t quite reach.

“What’s my name?” and you can feel it closer to your grasp, so you remember Her name.

“You have no name. You are above what I am. You are me as I am part of You. You are powerful as I am nothing. I am nothing, that You can use as something more. You are my strength, my love, my owner, my empress, my goddess. You are Everything and I am Yours.”

And when you say it, She, She thanks you. No words come out of her mouth. But the knowledge of gratitude enters your mind, and you have been thanked by Her, and She is the most important, and Her thanks are the most important thing in the universe.

You’re a thousand metres deep in your thoughts, in, in Her thoughts. But she’s still kneeling in front of you. You’re sitting in a room on a bad sofa and she is Everything.

It’s as though the vines constricting your mind are released one by one. She doesn’t control you anymore. You’re in control of your own thoughts again, and you look at your hands and realise you’re in control of your body again. So you fall forward off the sofa and place your arms around her, you fall in for dear life as a tidal wave of emotion hits. Now come the tears. She holds you close, too. You feel it, deep within yourself, that she loves you too.

You pull back and look at her face. It’s like everything makes sense now. “You’re perfect,” you manage to sputter through the tears, “You made yourself perfect for me.” And your thoughts seem to keep going, they seem to become hers, and you know. You know that this, what She is, is your perfect. A perfect trap set to snare you. And the silliness of it all makes you laugh as you fall back on her shoulder for another ugly sob. She holds you tight. Her embrace is your home.

“Oh, you’ve finished already?” comes Alex as he reenters the room. You look up and feel it, the roots of your thoughts tangling with his. You smile. You know.

“So, Alex was the first one?” you ask Her, knowing it’s true.

“Yes, now you’re the second,” says your new owner, though you already knew that too. You wonder why the three of you would even bother to speak considering she has mixed all your thoughts together, but you feel it quickly enough - words are love.

Alex sits on the floor next to you, cross legged, and you flop over from Charlotte into his lap and gaze up at his perfect face. He places his hand on your head and holds you, seeming to pet you almost. You return your gaze to Charlotte, and, and you try to reach out again, and you feel her there, again.

“I’m always here,” she says, answering your thoughts. So you try thinking some more, you think of your undying love for her, you think of devotion, you think of forever with her. You… you think her. She smiles. You think her come closer. She comes closer, leaning forward towards your place in Alex’s lap. It’s… it’s not as though you’re giving orders, it’s not as though you’re telling her to do something and she’s doing it, but more like you want something to be so, and it becomes so.

“Silly, it’s because we think the same now,” she responds. You feel her presence, in your thoughts, knowing your wants. So you want her kiss you, and as the neurons fire she leans in and kisses you. Paradise on Earth. You reach out to hold her, one hand managing to grasp her shoulder, the other hand clumsily pawing at her, frankly, silly breasts. She had you all figured out, didn’t she. You really are a predictable bitch. Her hand comes down to touch you too, grabbing your middle, comforting the dumb, self-hating thought. It feels so good.

You savour the knowledge. Knowing that you are part of her now gives you warmth. She pulls away. You feel the creeping inside your skull again, and she knows your thoughts and answers them with words.

“It won’t be long, baby,” she says. The words comfort you. She’s finishing up in there, claiming what’s left of your brain for her little empire. It feels so nice to be owned.

“I know how you feel!” Alex laughs, and you laugh. Even though you’re both Her now, he’s still him and you’re still you. Two little toys, playthings for your owner. Her stuff feels like it’s descending your spinal cord, she wants you be still, so you stay still in Alex’s lap. It… spreads. All inside you. Every inch of nervous wiring getting claimed, and it spreading into the tissues, and your blood and fluids and organs becoming her.

“How did you two meet, though?” you ask.

“Oh, happenstance,” Alex jokes, and you smile, but you find your thoughts directed through his memories, through, your collective memories. A break in space. A vision of a universe so big. A form so ancient and neverending, how he feared, how it took him, how it used him, how it took over his mind and body. How he became her in our world, and how she grew within him, creating herself a new form to call her own. How they rented a new place together, with enough space for a few more human servants, and ensnared me first. How that which grew within Alex, and grew to create Charlotte, is seizing my body now. How I’m part of her now.

“Passion fruit. And a hint of pineapple and mango,”she says, returning her hand to your cheek. It makes you smile, and she leans in. “I can be anything. I can be the perfect honey trap for any specific person, I can be a creeping infestation through your nerves, I can be the world’s most delicious poison.”

Her eyes close. Her eyes open. They’re black as space itself now. You gaze, devoted. An infinity, an infinity within her eyes. And an inky black tendril emerges from her torso and winds its way around your middle, holding you gently, another around your head. Her skin morphs to oil. She feels like perfection.

But she lets up. The gunk falls back within her, and she’s this ‘Charlotte’ character again.

“I love her, by the way!” you say, admiring her perfection. “I love the top, I love the body, I love the everything.” She’s flattered. She knows already, but words are love.

“You should’ve seen what he made for me,” says Alex. And although you have Alex’s memories, you know what ‘Matt’ looked like, Matt appears before you. Charlotte’s skin ripples and twists and grows and shrinks, the oily sludge forming and reforming to create the most basic, manicured ‘hot guy’ you’ve ever seen. Alex gets a little hard underneath you.

It sends you immediately. “You basic fucker!” you laugh at Alex, who buries his head on Matt’s shoulder through laughs of shame. You can feel the want subsiding within you, and you can feel yourself being allowed to move again. You lift yourself up out of Alex’s lap and gain purchase on the brick-wall torso. You gaze into Matt’s eyes, and you slobberingly kiss him. But he changes again and you fall forward through oily gunk. You can feel it all around you, embracing you all over. It slurps together and it’s Charlotte again - lying on her back, as you’ve fallen on top.

You feel her thoughts. You are the same. You look at your hands, and hope, and know, and yes - a small drop of black gunk forms, and detaches. You feel love. You feel your place. You look over at Alex, and let the feeling well up inside you, as you deform, as you collapse into sludge. You squirm, you see, you taste. You feel every part of Charlotte’s body all at once, and feel her thoughts, and let her become her godly self, a black mass of tendrils and fluid. You give her control as her form mixes totally with yours, integrating, becoming one thing on the floor of this dingy terraced flat.

#196 #fic #eldritch #how the fuck do i tag this #like seriously how

[the---hermit]

Beloved bee in my lavender plant and iconic buildings from the city.

14|07|2023

I am vibing to the new pvris album while I lay in bed cuddled up with my blåhaj after a day of catching up with a friend in the city. Me and my uni buddy met up to have a chat, walk arkund mindlessly and eat sushi. It was a lovely day, it wasn't even as hot as I had anticipated since there was a bit of a breeze, which was perfect. I'm not gonna lie to you before taking the bus this morning I had a wave of random anxiety, and I had to take my meds and coach myself on the fact that everything was going to be fine (as it was), but still I am more and more aware about the fact that recently I have to be kinder to myself because my anxiety is louder than usual. In the end it was a really relaxed day, so I count it as a win and I'll try to keep it in mind for other days that start like this.

Chill hobbit summer activities of today:

Read first thing in the morning

Practiced Irish on duolingo

Took my meds because I needed them

Had a lovely day with a friend

Walked quite a bit

Payed attention to being hydrated enough while being out

Browsed a bookstore but didn't buy any books (I was very responsable even though I was very tempted by one)

Good music

Quality time with my brother watching animal videos and generally being idiots

📖:Juniper And Thorn by Ava Reid (one chapter in and it's very promising)

🎵: the whole Evergreen album by PVRIS (and it's going to be like this for a while so prepare to be very bored with music updates in the next while)

#studyblr #studyinspo #book #journal #student life #flowers #city #cottagecore #bookblr #productivity #self care #journaling #knife gang #mine #the---hermit

[qqueenofhades]

hello, it's youngin anon once again. i need advice and i have no one to ask, so i figured i could ask you. it's a lot and long, so if you don't want to answer, feel free to ignore.

idk how familiar you are with immigrant child guilt, but it weighs on me immensely. my parents work very hard and i can see the way they struggle. i remember when i was young we didn't even have a bed! me and my siblings slept on cushions. i've seen the insane hours my dad has worked so as to afford me and my siblings a better and more comfortable life. both of my parents have put in a lot of work to give us good opportunities, starting with their immigration to the US.

in nigerian culture, education is extremely important, so as i grew up, my parents have always told me to focus on my education, telling me not to work and it did pay off bc i did end up as valedictorian. college, however is presenting a new set of problems.

my dad, who i am financially dependent on (and who is paying the tuition for the state uni where i'm enrolled) has made it abundantly clear that he thinks med school is the only valid career path. i told him that my roommate was studying comms and he said that she could become a lawyer or something, before looking me dead in the eyes and that wasn't an option for me. with him, it's med school or bust.

as long as i could remember, my parents have been telling me i was going to become a doctor. every time i asked my dad to get me something, he say, i'll do it and in the future, you'll become a doctor, right? and i would agree and that was that. i've answered to all the adults who asked me that i was was going to med school and they would all give me smiles of approval. if i mentioned any other career growing up i'd be ruthlessly shot down or gently persuaded about how much more security there was in medicine.

i was aware in high school that i didn't really want to be a doctor so i sort of set myself up, enrolling under my college's science school so as to cut off my own retreat path. i figured that if i was able to bear it during high school, i could bear it during college. but i can see my own behavior and i know that i don't really like STEM. not that it's a bad field! i just don't have any interest in it. i read the textbooks to learn enough to pass the test and that's it. i don't interact with my classmates or the professors or the material beyond what's needed to get an A. this is in sharp contrast to my history classes which i have been enthralled with. I took a world history class in the first semester enjoyed it immensely. last semester i took a war and violence in africa class and LOVED it. it made me want to become an African historian/Africanist. i talk to my professors, enjoy the readings, the assignments, all the new info i'm getting on the continent where my family originates. i go to my history classes and i want to be there. i want to learn.

i don't know if i could survive academia as a profession because i've seen you posting about the struggles from working in academia and there was a large strike at my school last semester because professors weren't earning enough. if it were a perfect world or if i had lots of money i would love to get my Ph.D focusing on West African history and be a history professor, but it's not, so. i've been thinking about law school as a happy compromise. i could go to law school with a undergrad history degree and if i went to law school i could also pursue JD/MA in History. i'm trying out some law classes next semester to see how i like them.

i'm now scared that if i were to transfer to a different school in my college my scholarship might be reduced. i'm also afraid that i would lose my parents' financial support if i chose to pursue a different career path and i have no actual work experience.

and i understand my parents' very valid concerns! both of them grew up poor in Nigeria and it was their STEM educations that afforded them better lives. they don't want me to experience that level of crushing poverty that heavily defined their youth. my mom tells me about her younger brother in Nigeria who struggles to get work with his masters. my dad tells me about co-workers' children who can't get jobs in their field of profession and have to work whatever jobs come their way. from what i've seen on the news, the future job market looks bad for the young people (around the world!). millennials are having problems and my generation isn't set to do much better.

is it fair to my parents to just disregard that and pursue work in the humanities? i want to do what i want, to just live my life, but it feels like it's not just my life. it would feel so selfish to just risk that all. whenever i talk to my parents about their journey in the US i feel like i should just suck it all up and go to med school. if my parents could suffer all of that, who i am to complain? do my struggles compare?

i feel like my sense of pragmatism and idealism are warring against each other. I don't like STEM, I'm good at it, good enough to get good grades in the classes, but it's not something i enjoy doing, but there's more job security. i love history and the humanities as a whole, but i might struggle with employment.

i'm semi-familiar with the path i would need to take to become a doctor. i would have to make it into med school (high GPA, experience in science research/labs, shadowing healthcare professionals, good recommendations, etc.), survive med school, survive residency (during which residents are worked like dogs), complete fellowships, and then i would be able to practice independently. and that would probably occupy the majority of my time. people have told me that med school is hard even for people that like medicine. for me who is just tolerating it, can i do it? and what about any future patients? is it fair to them?

my mom has always said that i could just get my second degree in whatever i wanted after i became a doctor, but i don't know if i would have the mental strength/energy/free time to go back to school after med school. i feel like if i grit my teeth and bared it for all my twenties i would lose the drive to do it my thirties. it feels like i've been putting off my living my life for my entire life. in middle school i thought about high school, in high school about college, and in college about post-graduate life. i'm tired of this constant look towards the future, but it's the only thing i know how to do. my brain is constantly asking "okay, and then what?"

if i go to med school and realize that i really can't do it, then i'll be trapped. it'll be too much debt to walk away from, too many years of my life dedicated towards that end goal of becoming a doctor. i feel like if i'm going to change my future plans, i should do it before sooner rather than later. 19 isn't too late to walk back but 26 might be.

but it's not like pursuing a career closer to what i want would be easier.

there's always this big fear in the background of, what if i fail? what if i risk it all to go to law school and i don't make it in? or i end up in a low-paying law job saddled with hundreds of thousands in student debt? or even if i make it to biglaw, i still end up burned out from all the hours that they work? wouldn't i still be miserable? i'm not super familiar with how law school works but i've done some lurking around @artielu's blog and law seems like something i should also go into in only if i'm sure.

(i'm not. i'm not sure of anything really.)

it feels like no matter what i'm going to be unhappy in the future. maybe everyone feels this way, maybe a certain level of unhappiness is normal in adult life. it just makes me feel so frustrated because i'm struggling so hard for what? idk. i'm also so desperately scared. i'm scared that one day i'll wake up in the my forties/fifties and realize that i hate my life. maybe i'll look back on this and lament how spoiled/whiny i was. idk. idk.

i'm not looking for an answer to this dilemma, i know this is a decision i'll have to make for myself, but i would appreciate any advice or even words of encouragement. thank you.

Welp. Okay, first of all, I am giving you a big virtual hug and sitting you down at your coffeeshop of choice. So imagine us talking there.

Second, thanks for pouring out your heart to me about this and your various other comments and chats over the years. I only know you as one of my favorite (shh) Tumblr anons on the internet, but I have always seen how thoughtful, smart, and hard-working you are, and I don't take it lightly that you trust me to listen to you and to give you good advice. (Or uh, let's hope, at least not bad advice? Jury's out.) Likewise, I'm absolutely sure that immigrant-child guilt is something to which a lot of my followers can very much relate, and would be happy to talk with you about. So if you are one of said followers and you'd like to encourage anon to reach out to you, please drop a note in the replies! I can't speak to this from personal experience, but I'd love to help connect you to others in your situation. Because yes, it IS absolutely a universal struggle for first- or second-gen immigrant kids: balancing cultural expectations of parents, American opportunities, feeling guilty if you do what you want, etc etc.

Third, and this is just me talking: if you absolutely feel this way, then no, I don't think you should go to medical school. I realize that this is far easier said than done, but if you continue to feel this strongly about it, then... you shouldn't be expected to do it, and that's just something that everyone in your family will have to come to terms with. After all, your parents came to America so you could be raised as an American, and there would be multiple pathways to success -- not whatever just they themselves had to do in order to get here in the first place. I'm afraid that you'll eventually have to bite the bullet and have an honest talk with your parents about this, but it may help if you present this as both your own success and THEIR success. After all, you're smart, talented, you have so many options, and you'll clearly succeed at whatever you choose to do. And that means THEY did their job right: they worked hard, they raised you right, they brought you to a place where there ISN'T just one narrow pathway to having a fulfilling and prestigious career. It doesn't mean they "failed" to make you a doctor. It means they succeeded in making YOU, and opening up so many more things for you to do.

Obviously: that's going to be hard either way, your parents are probably going to be upset, and that's very tough to deal with, especially if you're a close family unit and if you're financially dependent on them. You're the only one who can choose when to have the conversation and what might come of it, but it's still something that you do have the right to do. If you want to research other aid options or scholarship packages, or reach out to financial aid/admissions officers at other schools to see what it might take to transfer (that is, if you need to transfer), that's your right to do. You're an adult now and you have the right to take legal and personal responsibility for your own life. If you know what you want to do and how you want to do it: then again, isn't that why your parents came here? Isn't that what they were working to achieve?

Yes, academia is hard. No, there's no guarantee of getting a job. But there isn't the guarantee of getting a job in medicine either, especially if it's something you're forcing yourself to do and which (as you note) would impact negatively on you, your colleagues, and the patients you would be expected to serve. Especially post-Covid and in the American healthcare system: being a doctor/nurse/healthcare professional SUCKS! Even if you like it and feel called to do it, it still sucks, and the only people earning a lot of money from it are the senior/career/specialist types (as is the case in every field). Of course your parents have expectations and dreams for you, but they also don't get the right to control/dictate your entire adult life just by virtue of deciding to bring you into the world. After all, they did that, and that means embracing you as a person with your own choices. (And this goes for all people with controlling/bossy parents, regardless of immigrant or non-immigrant background). So again: this is what they wanted for you, and you've paid that off already.

I absolutely feel the "I spend all my time thinking/worrying about the future and being scared that I'll end up wasting my life" thing, which I think is common to a lot of high-achieving smart people (we are terminal overthinkers to a one). I can tell you now that life has a way of surprising you, and when you get a little older, you start becoming more comfortable with yourself, your accomplishments, your talents, and knowing what you're good at. So I don't think you will find that you've wasted anything. Likewise, when it comes to studying for advanced degrees in history: do you think it might help with your parents if you agreed to pursue a name-brand school? It's still not guaranteed, but trust me, going to a place like Harvard or Yale makes it tremendously easier to get a job or a future opportunity just by virtue of having that name on your CV and the people you will meet, and I have no doubt that you would be able to get in. As well, I don't really think your parents could argue with you going to an Ivy League, or think that you weren't applying yourself.

Likewise, if there is anything I can do to support you in this, please feel free to message me privately/off anon. I will write a letter of recommendation for you, I will see if I know a person who knows a person, I will help look at application materials, so forth and etc. I mean it: I WILL help you in the real world if I possibly can. I'm sure you have tons of other enthusiastic recommenders, but still. Also, I will say that despite the current (terrible) academic job market, I have seen quite a few openings for professors of African history/African studies/African-American literature and culture, and that's just in the US. There are also lots of opportunities around the world.

Anyway: I hope that's helpful to start with. I am giving you all the hugs. Please reach out to me again (especially via private message) if I can help with this in more tangible ways. And likewise, if any of my followers would like anon to reach out to them: please make a note in the replies. We can do this together.

<3

#anonymous #ask #school stuff #academia: not even once #long post