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simp-ly-writes · 7 months ago

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Boss & Bothered

Pairing: Boss!Spencer Agnew x assistant!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: Spencer is your boss to a degree and you spent a large majority of time by his side that you begin thinking things about your boss an employee really should not be considering...

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, boss/employee relationship, creepy man, harassment, protective!spencer, implied offscreen- VERY suggestive themes, kissing.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | WORDCOUNT: 2,708

─ · · A/N: thank you for the ask, anon! 🫶 and if you know me personally, out of all the things you read, please don't read this one, I went into a different world while writing this... hahaha erm...

─────── · ·

You had a crush on your boss. As the assistant to the Smosh Games channel you spent almost every moment by his side and there was not a single odd task you had not done; like running to the thrift store to get ten red shirts or to the corner store when the kickstarter and assorted energy drinks were out of stock in the kitchen.

You loved you job and truly loved working beside Spencer and you did not know at what point when those friendly stares and touches had become romanticized in your head. From him always opening the door for you or reminding you to take a break (or another one), he never once took all the extra work you did around the studio for granted and maybe that was a cause for the rose-tinted glasses.

Yet when he would bring your favourite coffee order in the morning even when you had said every time that that was your part of the job, he would just wave a hand in your face, assuring you before walking over to his desk- his schedule for the day already printed (and colour-coded, obvriously) so that the day would move smoothly.

Yet even when the day did not, Spencer never snapped or showed any anger towards you. Still being the caring and understanding boss you knew him to be, boss, you remind yourself. Yet you both acted past your positions, you had met his friends outside of work, went out for drinks with him at the end of a long day and even had dinner at his place one time (or maybe it was two times? three times? cant be more than four times?).

But that was just it right? You were both friendly co-workers. Or well, boss and worker but Spencer never held his position above your own, or at least not when it was important. He would pull the boss card as a joke every now and then off-camera that you feigned annoyance to much to the enjoyment of everyone else who loved his on-going joke around the office. A joke was all this is, just some lighthearted teasing when he puts a fleeting hand on my shoulder to ensure I know it is a joke.

But that all seemed to change when a developer from a gaming studio came in to demo the game alongside the cast. Spencer would be starring in this video, you sat behind camera, ready and waiting with his phone and can of kickstarter as you sorted through emails on your tablet, unknowing to the presence beside you.

"Hey, do you know where the director is? I have a tight schedule to be on since I... need... to... be..." his words slowed as the sentence progressed before falling off completely as the developer look at you. His mouth slightly agape before quickly fixing his hair and jaw. Looking up from your tablet, shutting it off quickly as to not give away company secrets, you presented a friendly smile to the individual. "Sorry, could you repeat your question please? I was a little bit tied up on these emails," you say, tapping your fingers against the metal device to exaggerate your point.

"Oh, um, haha, yeah, I was-a looking for the director. Do you know where he is, love?" you cringe automatically at the nickname, leaning slightly away in your chair as you look around the room quickly trying to find Alex Tran. You begin to cringe up your spine, contracting into yourself when the developer takes a half step closer to your chair, you can hear his breathing in your ear that has your smile twitching before you stand to present more space between the two of you.

"I don't see him here at the moment, we are also shooting another video the next studio over. I'm sure as soon as the cast is done there in..." you click on Spencers phone to see the time, "...in 10 minutes. Do you have everything you need to run the software or is there anything else I can get you in the meanwhile?" you ask politely, hands gripping your tablet as the man smiles.

"Alright, thats okay, that you for letting me know. I could really go for a coffee if its not a hassle? Maybe I could also add my number-" you take a big sigh out in relief once hearing the door to the studio open. Alex, Spencer, Courtney, Amanda and Trevor all filing in one by one. Your eyes meet Spencer's as he pauses his conversation with Trevor, eyebrow raised in question as you tip your head towards the developer that stands back by your side.

Spencer's brows furrow as he walks over to you, a smile plastering itself against his features as he steps in between the two of you, extending his hand as a physical barrier. "Hi, Tyler is it? I'm Spencer the head of this channel and Alex over there will be directing the video. Apologies for the delay, Trevor, Courtney, and Amanda were all finishing a shoot. I hope you understand?" Spencer clarifies, pointing at everyone he mentions, tone leaving no rude for argument.

"Yes, this lovely sir/miss, told me. I never got your name sweetheart-" Spencer coughs, his shoulders tense as he looks over his shoulder at you, "Could you go check in with Alex and see if he's doing alright? I can see the set up from here," Spencer pulls his boss tone at you for the first time without a joke or fault and all you can do is nod, pivot on your heel and walk towards Alex.

"Everything alright there, superstar?" Alex teases. Supserstar, that's what the Games department staff called you, seeing you run around like a shooting star while managing a thousand jobs in one with grace, simply put a superstar and you were gracious for the name as you nod at Alex. "Yeah, a lot better now, he was... very friendly." You choose your words carefully, knowing that the developers team is sponsoring todays video and fuelling your pay check.

"Mhmm," Alex hums out, carefully watching Spencer speak with the developer. The passive aggressive undertone is a surprise to everyone in the room from how friendly Spencer usually was. "Spencer really seems worked up, did something happen during the last shoot?" You ask, refusing to turn yourself back around before the cameras roll.

"No, he actually ended up successfully losing Don't Win Mario Kart but I think this is a more recent than that thing, what exactly did the guy say to you?"

"Oh, well he was... nice. Just like I said, a bit too friendly for me upon first meeting. Kept calling me pet names and stuff like that, didn't get handsy or anything, must be a cultural thing," you say before subconsciously taking a drink from the open Kickstarter can without a second thought. "Makes sense then," Alex shrugs before walking over to the filming crew as you follow behind and sit back in your chair. "What makes sense then?" you wish to clarify yet receive no answer except a presence by your side.

"Hey, you doing okay? I'm sorry I wasn't here earlier to help," Spencer comments, taking his phone and drink from your hands with a tight smile that does not seem to reach his eyes. "Yeah, thank you handling it. I didn't want to seem rude to him-" you begin to clarify to your boss who cuts you off. "You did nothing wrong, you did everything right. I sorted out the rest, THAT shouldn't happen again," Spencer points out strongly before taking a sip of Kickstart.

"Oh," is all you manage to get out before Alex calls the cast to their positions and you open your tablet again and move back to those emails only to find your mind drifting, cheeks warming at Spencers protective display...but any other boss would do that right? Protect their employees from clients... and what about what Alex said earlier too...

Your thoughts are a whirlwind as you mindlessly reply to email after email and fix everyones schedules before sending them out for tomorrow morning. The cameras are still rolling as you fix yourself in your chair, trying to become more comfortable for only a five minute break to be called and you are standing up in an instant to update Spencer on all the new information you received.

Spencer stands right beside you, leaning against your chair, can in between his hands and glasses slipping down his nose as he watches you intently rambling on and on about the tight schedule him and Alex had after this shoot to maintain while also taking a dinner break. Yet what caught you off guard was how comfortable you felt being so close to him, your arms touching every time you breathed, his gaze so trained onto you that it held you confused as to why you reacted to negatively to the man before. Slowly looking over to Alex who was already looking between the two of you with a knowing smile.

─────── · ·

Since then the dynamic had changed in the office, or at least between you and Spencer. You both were closer (if that was thought possible by the rest of the staff), so close in fact that you both were called into Ian, Anthonys, and HR's office that morning.

"Hey guys," Ian greeted, albeit a bt awkwardly as he looked between the two of you. Anthony offered a wave from behind the desk as well, it felt as is your parents were sitting you down for a talk, your cheeks painted pink as you looked at Spencer to only find support as he shrugged and leaned in saying, "Seems like we are the ones in trouble for once, what are we going to do superstar?"

And all you can do his shove him away playfully, refusing to look at Ian and Anthony as soon as papers came onto the table. "So... before we get started. You both have been doing amazing work, both together and a part but this is not a promotional meeting," Ian began before Anthony took over, they seemed to have rehearsed this...

"We are, as well as HR, who deemed that it might be easier to talk to us that you two are potentially seeing each other, and there is nothing wrong with that! We just need to know if you need to swap departments," Anthony says looking at you. You rapidly shake your head, laughing away the sweat that is building on your palms, rubbing them on your pant legs now refusing to look at Spencer, nervous that the crush you had been harbouring for some time now was being forced into the light.

Spencer also appeared to be refusing to look in your direction as well, stuck in a starring contest with Ian as the room laid in wait before Spencer spoke up, "We are not, formally, seeing one another, though I do enjoy spending time with them outside of work, as I hope they do too?'

"Yes, of course I do. I don't see you as my boss when we sit and eat out like that Spence," you mention to only received a raised brow that has your eyes widening at your word choice... should've just said outside of work, stupid, stupid, stupid.

Your cheeks have never burned so hard, your nails digging into your pant leg only for a hand to rest on top of them, easing you to relax. And by trailing your eye up to a tattooed arm that you would kill to colour in, you stop dead in your tracks at the hint of a smile on Spencers lips before you both are dismissed without signing a singular paper (or at least yet, you hope).

"Only at dinner, huh?" Spencer presses as soon as the door closes but you keep on walking in front of him as he jogs in front of you, causing you to pause in your steps. The cubicles are now all left empty as everyone has left for lunch, you two are the only ones in this way to large of a room, yet it does not seem large enough for the conversation you are about to unpack.

"... what do you want me to say, Spencer?" you press back, dodging the question successfully for a round as Spencer takes a step back, hands raising slightly from his sides. "I'm just curious where else I would be your boss outside of work if dinners are the only thing that counts..."

"Spencer!" you whisper shout, mind already going into the nooks and crannies you did your best to hide. You looked around but had not yet felt uncomfortable by the converssation, only the unbearable heat starting to crawl up your skin as his harm drapes itself over his forehead. His buttoned shirt sleeves are rolled up to his elbows and his signature leather boots creak as he shifts his weight. He seems as bothered as you are right now... as he cannot stand still....

"Oh... I see now," Spencer begins, his low tone has you moving closer to grasp onto his next words, your heart races, your brain a bit fuzzy but you don't feel nervousness or the least bit scared. In fact, you feel freer than ever in this moment, unloading what you desperately tried to hide for so long. "...where else do you hear my voice telling you what to do outside of work?" Spencer continues, keeping his tone even as you meet eyes catching a flickering of surface level genuine curiosity mixed with something, deeper, almost hidden...

You gasp, Spencer tilts his head, putting that little sound to memory as he waits for you to take the next step closer and you invite yourself to. You can feel the heat coming from his body, you both stand so close, you chests brushing up against one another, your breath hitching as he fixes his hair while staring at you. "Spencer..." your voice worries yet comes off as a whine, "What?" Spencer asks softly, still allowing you control that has you really questioning of going back inside that office and signing those damn papers.

"We can't do this right now, here in the office, please," you manage to get out behind your brain imagining every scenario where you press him up against a white wall and not kiss him all over to you both are breathless. "But outside?" Spencer asks once more, "Outside of dinner?" Spencer presses further as you only nod once, "yeah, outside," you confirm before taking a step back as he does the same, swallowing harshly and playing with his hair once more.

"Okay then," Spencer confirms.

"Okay then," you copy and for the remaining day in the office. You are sitting awkwardly in chairs, fingers aching to put your digital signature to the e-document as you keep sneaking glances at one another. It does not help when his phone buzzes in your lap that has you startling upright during the end of a shoot (thankfully).

The car ride back was even more tense, you both car-pooled often, living in the same building but watching him out of the corner of your eye as you changed the stick-shift, his arm, showing off his inner arm tattoos came to close to your hand, just teasing its way to your leg, you quickly parked, feeling that you were squirming in your chair, utterly restless.

─────── · ·

You both barely managed to get into the apartment and lock the door before your hands were on one another, breaths equally catching and being saved. Spencer groaned against your touch as you fell weak at the knees and fell back onto the couch where he met you and watching his cage you in, leaning in closer and closer, the documents lingered on your mind that had you presses your hands to his chest.

Spencer immediately stood up, "You doing alright, darling? Did I do something wrong?" your heart raced even more. "We, I- need to sign those papers right now before we continue..." you point between the two of you, intently looking up at his pink lips, "...this," you breathe out as Spencer sits down on the coffee table, feeling around for his phone as you both scramble to put your e-signatures on while also claiming sick leave... for you both would not be showing up tomorrow morning either once feeling his lips and the caress of his skin against your own.

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: 😮‍💨 whew... umm... No Part 2's on this one! (sorry)

─ · · SPENCER AGNEW TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @babble2 @delaneyburghardt

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caxasy · 2 months ago

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caleb and his prince treatment

caleb x male reader

spoiled (semi-yandere) ! caleb headcanons i have for him and male!reader :P more so modern!au, but can be read as if it were taking place in the canon universe

side note: i should really come up with a name for mc bc saying mc in the text and reading it over physically makes me cringe, hg needs a name T.T im just so uncreative i cant think of one UGH

side note x 2: per usual yandere-esque tendencies and thoughts coming from caleb, implied childhood best friends, i play my game in both chn and kor so thats why im kind of applying that in here hence the names and some vocabulary i used in here being more taken from my kor gaming experience

spoiled!caleb who hated being told no. he wasn’t used to that. and he will never settle with getting used to that. he thinks he’s selfless in a lot of ways (he really isn’t, hes deluding himself by telling himself he is — hes actually the exact opposite @ caleb hope that helps!!!), but he will be selfish with your time and attention (and everything else you have to offer...mans is greedy).

“you’re back!” caleb practically jumped off of his seat on the couch when the door of the house swung open. he immediately pocketed his phone, meeting you at the door and taking your backpack from your shoulders.

“classic butler caleb services,” you tease, watching as he threw your bag over his shoulder, “not too fast, though. you can just leave it by the door, i gotta change really quick,”

“hm?” caleb hummed, watching you take off your shoes and go upstairs, “uhm, are you going somewhere?”

“yeah!” you called out from your room and he heard the shuffling of drawers being opened and closed and your footsteps walking around the room. “caleb, have you seen my bracelet? i forgot to put it on this morning, could’ve sworn it was on my table!”

he looked down at his wrist, shaking his head to snap himself out of his confusion, and dropped your bag by the door as you instructed. he went upstairs, watching you from the door frame with his arms crossed over his chest.

“where are you going?” he almost began shifting anxiously where he stood, but had to physically stop himself. he also had to physically control his tone, not wanting to sound too bereft at you leaving again. you just came back from school! where were you going now?

“oh, just out with some friends,” you say, holding the bottom of your shirt up with your teeth as you zip up your jeans. caleb swallows harshly at the sight of your exposed abdomen. his head snaps up to meet your gaze when you drop the shirt from your mouth. “celebration from finishing off final season,”

“oh, but-”

“you have it on,” you smile, walking over and slipping your hand undernearth the elastic band of the beaded bracelet. your wrist resting on top of his, heavy and warm and enough to make his throat run dry. then, you pulled away with it now on you instead of him. “caleb, if you want your own, just ask mc, silly,” you tease, booping his nose and stepping past him.

“wait, uhm, you don’t want to stay in today? aren’t you tired from classes?” caleb asked, snapping out of his trance and going after you as you walked down the hallway.

“hmm, maybe tomorrow, caleb, i already made these plans last week. plus, i could use a couple drinks too,” you rub the back of your neck, looking bashful, “my upperclassmen wanted to treat me and they would be pretty upset if i backed out, soemthing stupid about how they have to treat me,”

caleb’s jaw clenched. you were relying on other people as a source of relaxation. he could just take you out to the bar himself, why did you need to go out with other people?

so what if they were your upperclassman? just because they’re older than him doesn’t mean he can’t provide that same treatment to you. you know that, right? caleb’s capable, so why did you rely on others for this stuff?

“anyway, tell mc that i can still drive her thing tomorrow, i don’t plan on drinking much so i won't be hungover or anything,” you reminded him, looking at the watch on your wrist, “annnnddd, don’t wait up for dinner. we’re going to an all you can eat, so i’ll be out till then!”

that meant you were gonna be gone for hours.

“are you sure you don’t wanna stay in? i heard it might start raining later today, bad weather might not be good to be out in late at night,” caleb reasons, following after your movement to the door, like a dejected puppy.

“it’ll be fine, i’ll bring the umbrella if anything,” you smile, stopping at the front door and tapping his cheek with your palm, “see you later, caleb! promise we’ll hang out tomorrow!”

before he could get a word in, one last shot in the dark of preventing you from leaving, the door was closed behind you.

he stood there, chest moving in controlled, slow movements. his fingers were twitched at his side before balling into a fist. he planned for you two to spend the night together, watching movies and tv until mc came home, then you’d eat dinner all together.

he sighed, pressing his closed fist to his mouth and trying to control himself.

“fucking pigs,” he cursed under his breath, going upstairs to your guys’ shared room and getting comfortable on your bed. he can't believe that not only he got told "no" to some shared time together, but you even chose to hang out with other people instead of him.

he laid there, breathing in your scent for a couple of seconds before begrudedly opening up the tracking app on his phone. he saw your icon and mc’s before clicking onto yours.

for the rest of the night, he stayed rotting in your bed hugging your pillow and watching your location from his screen. when you should’ve been by his side.

(the tracking app is like the find my app on iphones — so you and mc also have caleb’s location, a shared type of situation. not a stalker or anything LMAO [wouldn’t put it past caleb though…])

spoiled!caleb who doesn’t expect you to pamper anyone else the way you do to him. ever since you two were kids, you made sure to take care of him. it’s expected, even now that you guys are older. and of course, you don’t mind it. taking care of caleb and mc is a given to you, a responsibility that you don’t mind upholding.

but, since you’re so used to taking care of them, you unknowingly grew into the habit of taking care of everyone around you as well.

you, caleb, and mc were sitting at one of the outside tables on your guys’ campus. it was a nice day out so the three of you were lingering longer than you usually did after classes. mc was going on about an annoying group project that she had to do as her final. caleb was fully entertained by how animated she was talking about it while you were trying to comfort her, saying there were only a couple of more weeks of school left.

“hyung! is that you?” a cheerful voice was heard from behind you, making you instinctively turn your head. caleb and mc looked as well, curious to see if this person was actually talking to you or not.

a smiling man with platinum blonde hair walked up to the table, practically beaming at you.

“i haven’t seen you all semester, where have your classes been?” the smile on the unknown man’s face turned into an exaggerated pout, making you chuckle softly at the sight.

“it’s good to see you, jaemin,” the two of you are now smiling at each other and caleb feels his eye twitch. “oh, this is caleb and mc, caleb’s your age and mc is a bit younger,”

“nice to meet you two, i remember you guys from when hyung would talk about you,” the teasing comment was delivered along with a soft shoulder bump, making you roll your eyes, “it’s good to finally meet you, i’m jaemin,”

“nice to meet you, jaemin,” mc politely says, offering a kind smile. her eyes stray over to caleb, who practically looks in pain to smile at the boy his age.

“nice to meet you,” he says through his teeth, smile not meeting his eyes.

“we should hang out some time, hyung,” jaemin’s eyes sparkled as if he remembered something, “there’s a cute cafe that opened up near the library! i heard their pasteries are good!”

“sure, just text me and i’ll let you know when i’m free. it’ll be my treat,” you offer, open to hang out and reconnect with your underclassmen.

“how do you two know each other?” caleb asks, leaning in slightly closer to you as he spoke looking only at you.

“we had that research class together. remember when i kept having to stay late at the library in the fall?” jaemin turned sheepish at the reminder.

“yeah, that would definitely be me. i just kept needing help and hyung is such a good teacher,” you waved your hand as if dismissing the praise, but jaemin kept going, “he’s the only reason why i passed that class! if it weren’t for hyung, i definitely would have been done for!”

can this guy stop calling you that? it’s just like a searing reminder that there are other people in your life that are close enough to call you that. caleb hates that reminder. that you have a life that doesn’t revolve around him and mc, when you and mc are his entire world.

“no, you just needed some support, you did all the work,” you console, smiling so kindly at the man it makes caleb even more uncomfortable.

“whatever, you’re still too kind,” jaemin fanned his hand in front of his face, pinched eyebrows being seen under his bangs, “it’s so hot, how are you not sweating? how long have you three been out here?”

mc chuckled behind her hand at his behavior whilst caleb thought he was just being an annoying piece of shit he was being while overstaying his welcome.

“here, drink some,” without a second thought, you handed him your water bottle, which you had already drank out of. with that realization, caleb swore he felt his inside were boiling in annoyance and envy. why were you so selfless? he loves it about you…when it applies to him, but when he realizes that it’s not a completely special experience he receives from you, he feels bitter.

“you’re a lifesaver, thank you,” worst of all, the fucker actually took the water bottle from you and took a sip. uncaringly, he drank direct from the spout.

caleb’s fist clenched on the table as he realized what that meant. his self restraint was reaching its peak. for the rest of the time that jaemin was making small talk with you, which was a couple minutes longer, caleb was trying really hard to just calm himself down.

when jaemin finally left, caleb didn’t bother saying bye properly, internally hoping he would never see the man ever again. and most importantly, he'd leave you alone.

needless to say, the entire commute back home from university was you noticing the slight downtrodden mood of caleb and trying to make him feel better. you didn’t even know why his mood was more down and quiet, less charismatic than he usually was. but you didn’t ask, only offering extra attention to him to try and make him feel better.

it worked, obviously, since all caleb wanted was all your attention on him in the first place. but it did set as a good example for caleb to remember in the future...if he ever acts somewhat sad around you, you become more attentive to him. he had to fight the smile that almost made its way to his face.

spoiled!caleb who basically resource guards you. practically your walking guard dog. which is funny to think about since you are fully capable of protecting yourself in a face of “danger” and are more than capable in being able to take care of yourself and then some. but caleb is selfish and incredibly spoiled when it comes to you. which means, he’ll do anything to keep you as close as possible to him and only him.

spoiled!caleb who is trying hard to prove to you that he is capable of providing for you the way you do for him, but finds himself folding the moment you begin pampering him. his headstrong attitude in showing how grown he is, and he is grown, crumbles in confidence the moment you start using that familiar tone on him. the tone that shows how much you care for him, how casual it is for you to take care of him almost more than you care for yourself.

spoiled!caleb who, as mentioned before, dislikes anyone publicly showing how comfortable and familiar they are with you. whether it be in physical closeness, using terms such as oppa or hyung on you which show that close relationship you have with other - he hates it. to him, it’s almost ike it’s a competition. how can he prove to everyone around you that he’s the only man that you care about. how you hold him to a higher degree than others and that he loves that you do. he sounds cocky thinking that way, but if any ounce of a differnt impression is planted into his mind, he will go insane.

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marnikula · 1 year ago

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i loved the reader who cant say no trope :') i used to be that way

CAN WE GET READER WHO IS SUPER ASSERTIVE AND HAS A THING FOR SPENCER WHO IS JUST LIKE IN BAMBOOZLES OF READER BEING SO COMFORTABLE SAYING NO AND BEING STRAIGHTFORWARD 🙏🙏

SIMP

I could not think of any way to write this well for a few days, so sorry for the late reply. Also, if you are reading this and you made a request, I promise I am getting to it, I've just been a bit swamped with work and writing this post.

Now then, no real warnings except some cringe in the way that reader relentlessly simps after Reid.

✨Enjoy!✨

Your first meeting with Spencer Reid was something he would never be able to forget, even with his eidetic memory. You waltzed up to him after one of his guest lectures with such confidence that he stood to the side, thinking that you would pass by him. But you didn't. You stopped in front of him, speaking words that he would have never had the courage to utter to someone: "Do you have a name, or can I call you mine?"

He remembers seeing the way your friends cringed behind you, the pick up line that left your lips clearly having made them uncomfortable. When he thought that you would move on after seeing the blush spreading all the way from his toes to his ears, thinking that maybe you coming to flirt with him was a dare, but you didn't. Instead, you uttered another sentence that he could feel himself cringe to as well, but you didn't seem to mind, your eyes too filled with determination to be put off by his facial expression at your request. "I lost my phone number, can I have yours?" He genuinely thought you were joking, but then you held out your phone to him.

In a stupor of confusion, Spencer entered his contact details, waiting for the punchline to come, proving that this truly was some sort of joke. Throughout the whole interaction he was wondering how someone as attractive as you would decide to come up to him of all people and used lines that not even Morgan had the guts to use to try and flirt with him.

It took a few weeks of you consistently sending him pick up lines along with good morning messages and invites to a date before he decided to ask Morgan for advice. It wasn't helpful. His friend had simply laughed in disbelief when told the story and was rendered speechless when he read the messages exchanged between you, most of them from your side. Spencer decided to go for it, after all, what was the worst that could happen, you hit him with another pick up line?

_____________________________________________________________

It was worse, so much worse. When he arrived at the designated spot to find you before going to the movies he was met with a bouquet of red roses with branches of baby's breath spread in between. It was a beautiful arrangement he greatly appreciated, but the fact that you gave it to him the moment he stepped out of his car and into your view, as well as the fact that it was a very public display of affection sent Spencer reeling into a stuttering and blushing mess.

The movie you picked out was a romantic comedy, and although Spencer laughed quite a lot, he could not really enjoy the movie itself, too focused on the fact that you held his hand the moment the two of you sat down. It truly baffled Spencer how you could be so nonchalant about how you approached him, you did things he would not have even imagined in his wildest dreams to have the confidence to do.

At dinner, you decided to take him to your favorite restaurant. It was a quaint Italian place a few blocks down from the movie theater. The whole walk there you were full of energy, talking to him and listening to him spew random facts about things that happened in the movie. Your eyes held such pure adoration he wondered if he might have hung the stars in the sky without even realizing it.

______________________________________________________________

Spencer enjoyed his evening with you more than he ever had with anyone else he had gone out with before. As he lay in bed, thinking about the kiss you planted solidly on his cheek after he dropped you off at your apartment he wondered again how it was possible for someone so bright and confident to be as interested in him as you were.

As he drifted off to sleep, Reid wondered where this unfolding relationship with you would take him, and he could truly say that he was excited to see what would happen.

#bau #criminal minds x reader #criminal minds fic #criminal minds fluff #criminal minds #dr spencer reid #spencer reid x reader #doctor spencer reid #spencer reid #spencer reid fanfiction #spencer x reader #criminal minds fanfic

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vampir-ish · 29 days ago

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its hard to formulate how i feel about all of this so ill just. Tell it how it is

i was raised in a very unstable household as a very unusual child, my first interest Ever was fnaf for some perspective. i had unlimited internet access because Well my parents were too busy arguing and my mom was too doped out on her medication to check on things like that. when i was maybe around 8ish or whatever (i have no recollection of my earlier life for. Apparent reasons) i had discovered sparklecare after finding the comics website through some animation meme nonsense. i know i was absolutely not the targeted age demographic but it felt safe, it didn't feel double sided or wrong like all that other shit i wasn't allowed to watch (But did anyways), in a way sparklecare steered me clear of more dangerous places on the internet because i had become infatuated. i would sit in my closet and read the updates on my moms ipad mini.

i had followed the comic ever since. it really fundamentally shaped my art and aesthetics to this day. everything i have now is bathed in multicolor, checkers, patterns, and a never ending assortment of ocs because of sparklecare. hell, in every story i make theres always some sort of hospital present because of this. it pushed me to draw, to make my own ocs about my own issues, it was the main driving force for a lot of things, one of the most influential things for me

i fell off a bit from reading sparklecare around 2019ish because i had too much going on life wise and i was in Not so safe spaces again, dealing with the years of bullying on my track not only for how i spoke or where i was from but also the things i liked, entering an immensely unhealthy online relationship as the pandemic hit, the works. i picked sparklecare back up again eventually and it felt like home, something i used to indulge in before i moved countries, before it got worse, etc. it jumpstarted my personality i had before i went through everything, but with a new light.

even at the time sparklecare would've been regarded something more on the immature and even "cringe" compared to my other interests, how the reboot had significantly fluffed things up compared to the preboot. i now realize this was probably because kc was slowly and slowly twisting into her own echochamber and i didn't see it because i was like 13 i wasn't gonna tell this grown woman what to do with her comic.

i kept reading everything, every Monday and Wednesday morning i would wait diligently while i was at school. it had shaped everything id done, and it was one of those things i could never throw away. this tripled with the creation of cometcare, i was infatuated with the whole branching family dynamics i had in my own ocs for the longest time, and inspired me to make my own, to be looser with my art and ocs. sparklecare was the last interest i had expected to turn rotten, it was so sickingly sweet and placating to everything.

then im sure as you can imagine the whole exposee went off a month or two ago (i really cant even tell how long its been) and ive been in a whirlwind of emotions whenever i think about sparklecare since. everything had a double meaning. everything was made with sinister intentions, 16 year old me was unknowingly playing into this grown womans fetishes and there was nothing i could've done to know. it still revolts me. i had done nothing but love and appreciate this comic, despite all its flaws, despite the dogshit art quality now, the crammed in headcanons, the spiraling family tree, etc. now i was just one of the many many people she had fetish mined for something so, so disgusting, and depraved, that she convinces herself is okay. with the same words she used to comfort the victims of so many injustices including myself, she span them in a way to justify her abuse of others.

i understand shes been through things. she's grown. shes been "coping" for years on end and has only gotten worse. she has a therapist. her so called "therapist" clearly doesn't exist or is some douche from craigslist thats part of some underground ring and is trying to rope her in.

its sickening to see the characters i so lovingly become part of my identity, plastered them everywhere, drew them, wrote about them, gushed about them, CARED about them, now be played in some weird sick incest fantasy on that disgusting blog. it feels like they've been gutted alive and are being puppeted by somebody else and i can't do anything but watch. i feel like im in the fucking comic myself and cuddles is making me watch some helplessly edgy shit like that meat puppet nonsense.

but i also used to have a sense of care for kittycorn too because so much of this art was about her, made by her, driven by her. she's so diligent and careful about the image she shows publicly. it was all calculated, it's impossible to say it wasn't. all the kind asks i sent in her inbox, not knowing i was speaking to someone so abhorrent. she knew. she knows, she can't keep it up forever.

It's been tough watching as this perversion encroaches on so much that i loved, never seeing it coming, not knowing i was a PART of it. not knowing for how long.

it is so evil to make a community based on a whole comic about being traumatized and oppressed by abusers, just for it to deliberately be some kind of underground abuse scheme under everyones noses. and it was intentional. she wanted to lure the vulnerable in. she wanted to hurt everybody because in her eyes its right. its coping. its whatever. shes never wrong.

it hurts, and i dont know what to feel about it. i dont know where to place my emotions, i dont know what to do, and i dont know where to go. i carry on with life anyways, because at the end of the day it was just a comic i read when i was young, but it stings.

all i will do, is wish the best for every single last victim of this mongrel, keep up with them, and take back from this comic, which the community only gave and gave and gave to it. she does not get to run away with all of it. i hope everyones staying safe and i love all of the anti sparklecare bunches.

kittygroomercorn and her menagerie of scum will see an end, whether they like or not, and i wish nothing but to the worst to the likes of them, you're never getting away with this, and i hope you're aware of that. eat shit and die kc.

ill be posting my redesigns possibly whatevrvr

#sparklecare #cometcare #anticare #sparklecare hospital #proshippers kys #fuck proshippers

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illfoandillfie · 2 years ago

Text

A Different Kind of Eduation: R Is For Role Play (Chapter 12)

ADKoE MASTERLIST

Pairing: Professor!Roger Taylor x Fem!Reader

Series Summary: After being broken up with for not being kinky enough, Reader seeks out her professor to give her some private tutoring so she can win her boyfriend back.

Chapter Summary: Reader steps out of her comfort zone. Roger steps into the past.

Warnings: Modern AU, smut (18+), slow burn romance, dom/sub dynamics, dom!roger and sub!reader, professor x student sex, dialogue heavy, degradation (slut/whore/etc), role play, PIV sex, a littlespanking, restrained wrists

Words: 8,007

A/N: I really make you wait for these don’t i lmao. Originally this chapter had more stuff meant to be in it but while writing it I realised it would end up ridiculously long and tbh I would rather give you 2 short chapters than 1 long one. I can’t make any promises about when the next chapter will be up but it should also be on the shorter side so hopefully that makes it a bit easier to write.

As always *** indicates the smut scene.

Taglist: @labessieisallama @deakyclicks @jennyggggrrr @drowseoftaylor @i-cant-hangout-im-drumming@queenmylovely @ilovequeenmorethanyou @johndeaconshands @borhapbois @stardust-galaxies @cherries-n-rocknroll @rogersslave@scorpiogemini

@80s-roger @libsterslobsters @okilover02 @cjand10 @dealorgirl32 @youngpastafanmug @onceuponadetectivedemigod @zeida @demo-wise@yuillfandomqueen @tie-ur-mother-down @rogermyreligion

(idk how many of you are still interested in this fic so if you want your name taken off let me know, or if anyone wants to be added i can also do that)

Once again you found yourself outside Roger’s house, stomach in knots with nerves. Though not the usual nerves. You’d checked the curriculum before you left the house that morning, wanting to be prepared, and the one word that he’d used to describe that week’s lesson had been rolling over in your mind ever since. Roleplay. Somehow the idea of roleplay was more terrifying than all the bondage and spanking in the world could ever be. The arts had never been your forte, and the idea of acting and improvising and playing a character made you feel apprehensive and sweaty. But, you trusted Roger to not force you to do something you really hated the idea of, and so you let yourself in through the front door, as had become the usual custom. You were still providing drinks to accompany the dinners Roger made and, as soon as he saw you, he directed you to grab out a couple of wine glasses from the cupboard. You did so, trying to put your worries about the upcoming topic aside and just enjoy a nice meal with him. Briefly, you wondered if Roger could sense your uneasiness, his gaze settling on you like he was trying to read your thoughts, but then his eyes shifted back to the stove as he asked how your day had been and you gladly accepted the distraction.

It wasn’t until you were settled at the desk in his study that you felt nervous again. “Okay. Tell me what’s going on, Y/N.” Roger said calmly. You cringed a little that he’d picked up on your discomfort so easily but tried to keep your voice steady as you asked, “Are we looking at roleplay today?” “Yeah, that’s correct. You don’t like the idea?” “I’m doing a biology masters Roger, I’m not an actor. I don’t really want to pretend to get pulled over by a hot cop or whatever.” Roger chucked, “Fair enough. But I’d have thought this would be one you were looking forward to since it’s going to lead up into CNC and all of that.” “It is?” “Mmhmm. I mean, Consensual Non-Consent is just acting out a non-consensual experience. It’s a little more hardcore than the roleplay we’ll start off with, but it is related.” “Well, when you put it like that...” “A theory lesson can’t hurt, right?” “Depends. The last couple of theory lessons you’ve had me trying prac stuff. What exactly are we going to look at?” “Well, I was going to start off with something easy. We can talk about why people roleplay and go over some of the basic scenarios – the stereotypical stuff like cops and robbers or uh, teacher and student,” he looked mildly uncomfortable but moved passed it quickly, “nurse and patient, that sort of thing. And then we can get into some of the more niche things like petplay and ageplay and then in a couple of weeks, if you’re ready, we can get into CNC and free use and the more intense types of roleplay.” You hummed in thought, “That sounds okay. I am still a little nervous about the more practical side though.” “And what exactly is causing those nerves?” You shrugged, “I already said, I’m not an actor.” “Neither am I. What’s really the reason?” For a half a second you considered arguing that he did have a background in performing for crowds, just with music instead of drama, and so he shouldn’t be allowed to make light of your nerves. But in the end you decided that being stubborn about it would just make him push harder, “I don’t want to look stupid. And I can’t imagine not looking stupid while saying that ive been a naughty girl or whatever you’re going to want me to say.” You could feel your cheeks heat as you spoke and looked down to avoid Roger’s eye. Roger hummed in thought, “Well, that’s fair enough. No one likes feeling or looking stupid. But, counter point, you don’t have to say anything as cliché as that if you don’t want to. And even if you do say something cliché, I promise it will not feel as stupid in the moment as it would if you said it now.” “Yeah I suppose so, but still.” “Anyway, we’re getting ahead of ourselves. Let’s just focus on going over what roleplay is and how people use it in sexual situations. Okay?” You nodded your agreement, hoping that knowing more would help you feel less self-conscious.

“Right, well, let’s talk about humans for a moment. We’re a creative species. We’ve been telling stories since before writing was invented, it’s in our nature to imagine, to fantasise. So, of course, it’s only natural that those ideas can become sexual. Imagining something allows people to explore desires in a way that’s safe for them, especially if it’s a desire they wouldn’t normally admit to out loud. Its why romance novels are written. Its why people seek out pornography of specific fetishes. So roleplay is a way for people take those imagined situations to the next level, making it more real by actively participating in it. There are a few different forms that roleplay can take. At the most simple it could be wearing a costume associated with a particular role, like a nurse, or with a particular character, like Princess Leia’s slave outfit.” “You’re such a dork.” “That outfit is hot. And it was just an example.” He paused to make sure you weren’t about to interrupt again, “It may just be that wearing the clothes of someone else is enough to satisfy the fantasy, but often there will be a bit more to it. A scenario. You take on those characters and act out a scene. The nurse gives a patient a physical examination, Princess Leia is held captive and tries to bargain for her freedom. There’s some sort of a story involved that the participants act out. And then finally, as an extension of that, there are the taboo roleplays. Things like pet play and age play and CNC. Taboos make people curious, and it’s very natural to think about taboo situations or acts. Roleplaying something taboo gives people a safe way to explore it. And it doesn’t even have to be particularly sexual. Sometimes it’s not about that, it’s just about being someone else, about the feelings you get or the connection with your partner in that unusual situation.” “That makes sense I guess.” “One interesting thing to note is that a lot of the “standard” roleplay scenarios are based in power dynamics,” Roger dropped his hands from where he’d made quotation marks, “a cop has power over whoever they arrested, a nurse has power over a patient, a doctor has power over a nurse. Maid’s serve, kings and queens command, the list goes on. So, why do you think that is?” “Because...Because it’s an easy place to start if you’re interested in dom/sub dynamics?" “That's absolutely part of it. It’s a great way to dabble with kink, to test the waters so to speak. But I think there’s another bigger reason that people, even very vanilla people, might be interested in roleplay. Power dynamics are so prevalent throughout our society. Everyone has a boss; everyone has had an experience with an authority figure. And it is human nature to take something mundane and create a story where it’s more fantastical, more interesting, maybe even less scary. Or, to create a story that switches the power.” “Huh. That’s a really interesting way of thinking about it." “Of course, sometimes getting into a roleplay is how people discover kinks or fetishes and they can be steppingstones to other power based BDSM practices. But I think for most people, roleplay is just something fun that lets them explore something different in an accessible and safe environment. I will admit I did consider starting you off with some roleplay stuff when I was working out the curriculum. I thought that dressing up as someone else might help you feel more comfortable exploring new areas.” “What made you decide to start elsewhere?” Roger shrugged, “I knew that CNC and those areas we’re building to would tie into roleplay and I didn’t want to get too close to them too quickly. And I didn’t want you to feel like you had to be someone else to enjoy any of it." “I think you made the right call.”

Roger smiled for a moment and then seemed to remember he was teaching a lesson, “Okay, Y/N, I want to posit a theory and I want to know what you think about it.” “Okay,” you said a little taken aback but intrigued all the same. “I suggest that we’ve already experimented with roleplay.” For a moment all you could do was stare in confusion, “But we haven’t.” “What makes you so sure?” “Because we haven’t been playing pretend or dressing up as anything. What we’ve been doing is real.” Roger looked supremely pleased as if you’d fallen into a trap he’d set. “What if I said that roleplay isn’t playing pretend.” “That's literally what you just said it was. Costumes, pretending to be something you’re not.” “Well, okay yes, a lot of the time roleplay can be about that. And that’s why you can walk into any sex shop and find naughty nurse costumes or sexy school uniforms or, fuck, even a sexy Santa outfit. But that’s just a side effect of roleplay being a way to feel like something you're not. I could still pretend to be Santa with all the double entendres about presents and chimneys even without a set of suspenders and red knickers.” You giggled at the image he’d conjured but Roger mostly ignored you. “The costume just helps the suspension of disbelief.” “Okay, sure,” you said, still smiling at the thought of Roger dressed in holiday themed lingerie, “I don’t understand where you’re going with it though.” “Okay well, let’s look at these basic scenarios we’ve been discussing. They take something mundane or even a bit scary – medical check-ups, having a meeting with an authority figure – and turn them into something fun and sexy. And in the process the people involved can explore things that turn them on but that they might feel wary about doing in a non-roleplay situation. Things like being told what to do, or something a little further like handcuffs or punishment spankings. It allows people a chance to try being more dominant or more submissive or even more hyper-sexual than they let themself be in real life. Thus, it’s a way for them to achieve a different headspace or to feel something they wouldn’t ordinarily let themself feel. And isn’t that just what we’ve been doing too?" “No,” you knew you didn’t sound very certain, but you didn’t want to accept he’d been right too quickly. “Okay, let’s look at an example. Take Daisy and Jo and their slave/master dynamic. In real life, by law, you cannot legally own another person. They can call each other the right names, they can agree on who gets to make which decisions, they can put their names down on a slave registry, they could even get Daisy a barcode tattoo if they wanted to go that far. And yet, Daisy is still her own person, Jo doesn’t really own her. Daisy has a job, she has hobbies, she has a life outside of their relationship, and she has her own thoughts in her head, her own autonomy. And you heard how when that autonomy was taken from her in a previous relationship, it stopped being a kinky dynamic and turned into actual abuse. Daisy and Jo play around with things that make them feel psychologically as if one really is the other’s slave but, in reality, she’s not. So, in that case, roleplay is no less real than other parts of BDSM. Roleplay is just the closest approximation we can get to it being real before it crosses into abusive, illegal or dangerous territory.” “That’s a pretty extreme example though,” you counted, feeling as if you were in Roger’s regular classroom discussing the results of an experiment, “What about a stock standard bondage scene?” “I think it still fits. What a lot of people get out of a dom/sub dynamic is feeling control or lack-there-of, right? And isn’t the bondage just a vehicle for making the submissive person feel as if they have no autonomy or to feel as if they can’t escape? Or for making the dominant feel like they have total control over someone else?” “I suppose so,” “Obviously in a safe, sane, and consensual scene that can’t ever really be the case. The sub always has the right to stop things, to say no. There might even be a physical way for them to get out of the bondage if they need to. The ropes just make it feel less like they have the option to get out. Ergo, it’s a form of roleplay. And we can’t ignore spanking. That for most people spanking is intrinsically tied to discipline. That a lot of the ways spanking is portrayed or thought of, both inside and outside the kink community, is related to punishment. That probably the most common spanking scene imaginable is a schoolgirl being punished by her teacher. Dressing up in a short skirt and long socks and a white blouse and promising you’ll do anything for a better grade.” You swallowed thickly, very aware that you were sitting in front of your professor. Roger seemed almost as flustered as you felt as he paused. He plucked his glasses from his nose and began to clean them on his shirt hem, his voice a little quieter when he spoke again, “And you don’t even have to get that specific with it. Just the idea of spanking as punishment within a sexual scenario can be construed as roleplay. Chances are the person being spanked didn’t really do anything bad enough to warrant a physical beating.” He put his glasses back on and the tension from moments before disappeared, “And yet everyone involved pretends they did because they enjoy the act of spanking or being spanked and because it makes them feel secure in the dynamic they’ve built. The dom is in charge, the sub obeys, there are consequences for stepping out of those boundaries. They perform their roles, and it makes them feel good and sexually satisfied and bonds them.” “Fine, okay, maybe you’re right then. But if this was your attempt to make me feel less nervous about doing a roleplay scene in prac, it’s not worked. There is still a difference between the two...even if it’s not as clear as I thought it was.” “No, you’re right, I do think there is a distinction. But I don’t think that distinction is based on one being more real than the other. And really, it’s up to the individual to figure out where that distinction lies for them. But I also think that if we consider them essentially the same thing, or at least closer related than one initially presumes, it can help you remember one very important fact.” “Which is what?” “BDSM is a conscious choice. And to me, knowing it’s a choice offers so much more safety and security than considering it “real” does. Whether I’m acting as the dom or the sub, it's a reminder that everyone involved has actively chosen to be there and if that desire to be there changes, everyone has the option to say as much. Which ultimately makes things more enjoyable.” You’d already known that Roger cared about your safety and how much you enjoyed yourself, but you couldn’t help but be touched by his obvious enthusiasm for the topic and his sincere way of expressing it. It was something you hadn’t been able to properly appreciate when you first started your lessons, but the more time you spent with Roger, the more he voiced his thoughts on sex and BDSM relationships, the more you found yourself admiring him. It made you feel like you’d definitely picked the right person to learn from.

“We have two options now. Number 1, we can keep going with theory and look at some more specific areas of roleplay, maybe more taboo stuff like pet play and age play. Give you a sense of where roleplay can lead and how different dynamics like that work. Or, number 2, we can discuss some options for a possible prac scene and, if we can settle on something we both like the sound of, maybe we could try it out. I’m going to leave it up to you though. Whatever you're comfortable with. Although I will say, I would feel better about exploring CNC with you the coming weeks if we’d played with a simpler roleplay before then.” “So I have to roleplay then.” “It doesn’t have to be anything big and it doesn’t have to be tonight. But, yes, I would like it if we did.” “Did you have any scenarios in mind for us to do in prac?” “Nothing picked out but I can offer some suggestions you might like.” “Okay, hit me.” Roger hummed in thought, “I mean, basically anything can be a roleplay scenario. 1950s housewife and her husband, royalty and their servant, strangers meeting at a bar, a couple engaging in an adulterous relationship. Even fictional characters are possible. Are you into superheroes? I could be uhhh, I don’t know, Batman? Save you from some danger and you’re so gratefully horny about it.” You snorted, “Maybe something else.” “Do you want to go with something vastly different from our actual lives or something that’s a bit more familiar?” “Umm, maybe something more familiar would be easier to do without feeling like a complete wanker.” “In that case,” he made a clicking sound with his tongue as he considered your options, “you could be the babysitter I hired to look after my kids. Orrrr, I could be a repairman fixing something for you.” You didn’t hate the sound of either of them but also weren’t totally sure you wanted to do either and made an uncertain noise in response. “I suppose if you wanted we could do a teacher/student thing.” You shook your head, “That’s too much like real life, I think it’d make me feel weird.” “Okay, good,” Roger sounded relieved, “In that case...maybe something with a similar dynamic but less baggage... a boss and employee? You could be asking for a raise or something like that.” You shook your head again, though more out of amusement than disinterest. “There is always a doctor or nurse thing, we both know biology after all. Or, well okay, this one might be a bit weird but hear me out.” “Okay,” “I could be a rockstar and you could be my groupie.” “Oh,” “Is that a good oh or a bad oh?” “Neither I just wasn’t expecting it. But I kind of like it I think.” “Yeah?” “Yeah. I think I could be your groupie.” “Hanging off my every word,” Roger said suggestively, gesturing between you as if to say just like you are right now. “Willing to do whatever it takes to keep my attention.” “Something like that, yeah.” you laughed, “It seems doable.” “Alright, that’s settled then. So what sort of kinks would you want to include?” “Umm the usual stuff I guess, a little bit of degradation, maybe some spanking.” “Bondage?” “I don’t think I feel like that today. Not anything like ropes or cuffs, but I think I’d be okay with you physically holding my wrists or something.” Roger hummed in thought, “That all sounds very reasonable. Any thoughts to positions?” “Umm, not really. I’d be up for most things I think.” “I think I have some ideas then. Are you ready to get started now?” You were a little torn, the part of you that enjoyed having sex with Roger more than ready to go but the part of you that was apprehensive about acting was more in control, “Maybe a little more theory first. And maybe another drink.” “Okay,” Roger gave you a reassuring smile, “I’ll grab us a top up and then we can talk a bit about where we’re going with roleplay.”

When Roger handed you the glass of wine it was hard not to gulp it down in an effort to quell your anxiety. “You know if you get too drunk we won’t be able to do any prac and we’ll have to come back to it another night. And I’d have to insist on full sobriety that time.” You narrowed your eyes at Roger and took a smaller sip before putting the glass down, “So what else have you got to teach me about roleplay?” “We might as well start talking about the more taboo forms. I mentioned age play before but I don’t get the sense Dylan is particularly interested in it, so I wasn’t intending on going into detail. All you really need to know is that it’s a form of roleplay that involves someone acting a different age than they are, typically younger.” You’d never seen Dylan look at anything like that before and he’d never mentioned it so you felt confident saying, “Yeah, I don’t think Dylan would be into that.” “Okay, good to know. The other one I mentioned was, of course, CNC. But I don’t want to start on that until we can dedicate a whole lesson to it because it’s complicated and I want to make sure we cover everything. Which leaves just one other example I gave, pet play. How much do you know about it?” “I’ve heard of it, but I don’t really understand it.” “At its most basic, pet play is a kink in which one or more participants role play as an animal.” You dutifully noted down the definition, the familiar act putting you more at ease. “Technically it comes under a wider umbrella of animal play, but I think pet play would be the more familiar term to most. There are those that engage in animal play as foxes or wolves or even mythical creatures like unicorns and dragons. But pet play as a specific subsection of animal play revolves around acting as more common animals like dogs and cats and horses.” “So, if it’s taboo and about animals, is it like roleplaying bestiality?” “No. Typically engaging in pet play is, like a lot of role play in general, more about exploring different behaviours and desires, than actually being an animal. Someone who explores pet play as a puppy might be attracted to it because it gives them a space to be playful and bouncy and loose. Or it might be because they really like the dynamics involved in being trained to do something. Whereas a someone roleplaying as a kitten might be interested less in the training and more in physical affection while still being able to play and scratch and bite.” “Uh huh,” you weren’t totally sure you understood it, but it did make pretending to be a groupie sound less daunting. “The other thing with pet play is it’s not always about sex. It’s a fun way to show and receive affection – being petted or groomed, curling up on their partner’s lap, playing silly games, just being looked after.” “That does sound kind of nice.” Roger smiled, “Yeah, it can be. But we can get more into that another time. For now, let’s just stick to human role play.” Roger frowned at his phrasing for a second and you couldn’t help but snort and roll your eyes. “There’ll be none of that when you’re my groupie,” he playfully scolded, giving you a little wink, “Are you ready?” You took a nervous breath, “as I’ll ever be I think.” Roger gave you an affectionate look, "Give me a couple minutes to get a few things ready and then meet me in my music room.”

*****

As soon as Roger left you reached for your glass again, downing the wine quickly. You poured yourself another half glass and drank as you thought. Groupies. You understood the basic premise and you could see the appeal in sleeping with band members, in an abstract sense. But you weren’t sure how much of what you knew was even close to accurate. You were mostly going off depictions you’d seen in fiction. Roger definitely knew more about it than you did, even if his band had only lasted a short while. So what would he be expecting you to say? How would he expect you to act? It made your stomach twist uncomfortably and you put the glass of wine down. You didn’t feel much like a groupie. Glancing down at your outfit you thought you probably didn’t look much like a groupie either. But maybe you could fix that, at least a little. Roger had mentioned costumes and outfits as a way to help feel more comfortable in a role play scene so, grabbing your bag, you ducked into the nearest bathroom. There wasn’t a lot you could do with your clothes but thankfully you’d taken to wearing skirts whenever you had lessons. The one you’d chosen fell just above your knees, but you were able to fold the waistband over itself a couple of times to shorten it. The shirt was a little harder to alter since it wasn’t a button up. You experimented a bit with tying it up at the hem but didn’t really like the effect so instead settled for just taking your bra off underneath it. The material was thin enough that Roger would probably be able to see your nipples and that definitely sounded like something a groupie would do. You touched up your makeup and applied some lip gloss you found at the bottom of your bag, and then as a finishing touch you shook your hair out to make it seem a little messier. Looking at your reflection you decided that at least you'd been able to do something to alter your appearance. That was when you heard the drumbeat, Roger’s signal that he was ready for you.

He didn’t seem to be playing any specific song, at least not one you were familiar with, but the beat did make you feel a little more at ease as you headed toward the music room. Something about the background noise made it a little easier to believe your roles. And seeing Roger made it easier still. The door was ajar as you approached it, but you knocked all the same, pushing it open nervously. You noticed the flannel shirt immediately. It must have been one he’d had for a few years because it seemed worn and faded and a little tight around his upper arms. It was completely unbuttoned, his bare chest visible, and you were immediately reminded of the band photo that had been so popular on the university meme pages. Roger grinned when he saw you, not even attempting to hide the up and down look he gave you as he twirled his drumstick between his fingers. The movement immediately caught your eye, and you couldn’t help but be turned on, even though you still felt a little silly standing in his doorway. “Can I help you?” Roger asked when you didn’t say anything. “Oh, um,” you could feel your cheeks warming as you tried to think what to say, “I just wanted to tell you I loved the show.” You cringed a little at what you’d come up with, feeling it was a little cliche, but it must have been alright because Roger responded with a lazy smile. “Glad to hear it love. How’d you get backstage though?” You heart stopped for a moment as you internally panicked. Why had you spent so long on your appearance without spending a single moment preparing a backstory or anything useful to say. “Don’t over think it, you’re doing great,” Roger said, dropping the cocky rockstar act and nodding in encouragement. And then, as quick as it had gone, the rockstar was back as Roger relaxed into his seat again, spinning his sticks absentmindedly. “How’d you sneak in?” “No one stopped me,” you shrugged, unable to come up with anything better on the spot. “Well it’s a good thing. I love talking to fans.” His voice dripped with innuendo, and you found yourself swallowing hard in response. "I was hoping you’d want to...talk. I’m such a big fan.” Roger beckoned you towards him, “Close the door, love, I’d hate for our chat to be interrupted.” Your stomach did another flip, although a much pleasanter one, as you stepped further into the room. It helped that Roger seemed so at ease playing his role. You could easily imagine him playing for a crowd, flushed and sweaty as he banged out a beat. Even now with shorter hair and more of a dad bod, if he announced tomorrow that he was quitting teaching to go back on tour you would have no trouble believing him. He just looked right behind his drums. Not to mention hot as hell. “Do you want to touch it?” “Touch what?” you blurted, worried you’d missed something while you’d been distracted by the thought of a sweaty Roger pounding away at his drums. “My kit of course,” he laughed, grabbing your hand and bringing it to one of the cymbals, “You seemed pretty enamoured with it.” “Oh, yeah, it’s um bigger up close than I was expecting.” The cymbal felt cool under your hand but you had to assume that was partly from how warm you felt, embarrassed both at the cheesy line you’d just said and that he’d caught you daydreaming. “Not the first to tell me that,” he replied with a wink and an easy suggestiveness that made you feel somehow even more warm. “I could show you how to use it.” “I’d love that,” you gushed, not entirely pretending. The drums did seem like fun.

You let Roger lead you around to his side of the kit, his hands settling nicely on your hips as he guided you to sit on his lap. The whole situation made you feel giggly and for a moment you forgot it was role play, wondering at when you’d got so bold as to hit on a rockstar but glad that it seemed to be working. And it definitely seemed to be working if the semi pressing into your backside was anything to go off. You suspected you were not the only one who’d felt the need to get rid of underwear. Roger’s breath hitched softly as you wriggled against him and he quickly guided his leg between yours, putting you on his thigh rather than his lap. You didn’t mind so much though, especially when he shifted, and his thigh pressed up into your cunt. Roger’s hands meanwhile were also moving, rising up your sides, the light trail of his touch making you shiver and your stomach clench with anticipation as he neared your breasts. You nearly groaned in disappointment when he pulled them away too soon and heard Roger chuckle in your ear as he reached for you hands instead. He pressed the drumsticks against your palms and then wrapped his hands over yours, guiding your movements to bang out a simple beat. The drumming was fun but it was hard to focus when his hands felt so warm and large against yours, and his breath tickled the side of your neck. “You’re a natural,” You grinned, feeling quite pleased with yourself, until you gasped when Roger pressed his foot down on the kick drum pedal and you bounced on his thigh unexpectedly. “Too fast for ya?” he asked cockily. You turned your head to try to see him better, “No, I’m a quick learner.” “Well show me what you’ve got then.” His hands moved down to your hips again, pulling you snuggly against his chest. It was enough of a distraction that he had to prompt you again, leaving you flustered as you hurried to comply. “Harder than that, love,” He said when you produced a much quieter sound than he had, “Really pound it.” He emphasised the word with another stamp of his foot. Your second attempt was better but apparently not quite to Roger’s standards because he grabbed your chin to make you look at him again. “Do you need me to show you how?” Words completely failed you so you just nodded, your stomach in knots with anticipation, practically able to feel the wet patch growing against his thigh. Roger’s gaze flicked down to your lips as you both held the moment for a second longer, and then he was surging forward eagerly. His hand moved to your neck as he claimed you, his other still at your waist though his grip had tightened to keep you in place. The drumsticks clattered to the ground and you couldn’t help the little moan that slipped out into his mouth, finally having an outlet for all the tension that had been building since you entered the room. The sound just made Roger smile, his lips quirking cockily against yours as his hands began to roam, down your thighs, pushing your skirt higher, toying with your undies. “Don’t need these,” his tone making it clear you should have left them in your bag with your bra, as he pulled them down your thighs. You raised yourself a little to help him, feeling as if you had to make up for wearing them in the first place. Roger seemed pleased with your initiative, or at least pleased that he could easily access your pussy, his fingers slipping between your lips. “So wet already,” he half moaned, two fingertips toying with your entrance. You gasped again as he worked both digits into you, pausing a moment when he was around the first knuckle so you could adjust. But he didn’t wait long before he drew them back a little and then pushed them in deeper, and then again, clearly impatient to get you ready enough to take his cock. You were growing impatient too, your head still spinning from his kiss and from how good just his hand felt between your legs. “Rog please,” you whined, trying to sink down on his fingers, though the position made it difficult, “‘m ready.” “Yeah? Ready for my cock, huh love?” You nodded and groaned, desperate to convince him as he continued fingering you. Roger just chuckled, “Of course you are. It’s the whole reason you came here, isn’t it. To be fucked by a rockstar.” You nodded quickly, ready to agree to just about anything he said. “That’s what I thought,” he almost growled as he drew his zipper down and freed his cock. His hands came back to you then and you let him guide you to stand, shifting around so that when he pulled you back down, you were aligned with his cock rather than his thigh. You moaned as his tip breached you, his cock stretching you much more than his fingers had. But it was a very good stretch and one you were more or less used to by now. You didn’t even mind that he didn’t give you time to adjust, just kept pulling you onto his lap, making you take his whole shaft much quicker than he usually would.

When you were finally seated fully, legs between Rogers’, your skirt rucked up under his palms, and your pussy stretched around the base of his shaft, both of you moaned almost in unison. “Fuck, love,” he groaned against your ear, “taking me so well.” The praise made you squirm, and Roger moaned again as you tightened momentarily around him. “Jesus. Whores like you are my favourite part of this job.” He managed to get out through his heavy breaths. You whimpered, continuing to wriggle in place, Roger’s hands still grasping you making it unclear whether or not you were allowed to move. “You don’t need to tell me I’m the best you’ve ever had, I know I am.” Roger chuckled, the cocky rockstar act back in full force, “So why don’t you show me how grateful for my cock you are and ride me.” You didn’t need to be told twice, placing your palms against his legs to help steady yourself as you began moving as best you could. You never let too much of him escape your heat, raising up just enough and then dropping your arse back into his lap. As you found a good rhythm, his hands began to wander, squeezing your breasts through your shirt at first, though he quickly pushed the material up until your chest was exposed and he was free to grope you as much as he wanted. “That’s right, fuck yourself just like that,” he growled, “feel amazing on my cock, love.” The praise only made you moan more, especially since he said it like you were lucky to be pleasuring him at all. But you knew that, despite the attitude, he really meant what he said. He was breathing hard against your neck, making you shiver as he let out little moans each time you sank down on his shaft. And then there was the drum. Roger’s foot was still on the pedal and whenever you tightened around him enough or moved at just the right angle, he'd jolt like he wanted to spear up into you and a sudden stuttered bang would sound. You chased the sound of the drum almost as much as the sound of his moans, both making it seem like he was losing control, like you were cracking through his arrogant attitude.

But Roger wasn’t going to make it too easy for you. Whether because he was intent on finishing his lesson or he was just so lost in how fucking hot the groupie roleplay was, you couldn’t tell. It added up to the same thing though. He pulled your arms behind your back and gathered your wrists together in one hand. You whined and halted your movements but Roger tutted at you condescendingly. “Is my cock too much for you? Maybe one of the other girls could handle me better.” You shook your head, “No, I just-” “Shhh love, I don’t care. Just ride me.” You whimpered but that seemed to amuse Roger more than anything. “Already admitted you came here for my cock and believe me, love, you’re not the only one. So do what I say or I’ll find another slut who’s willing to do whatever I want.” The thought of him kicking you out before either of you finished was nearly as distressing as the thought of him replacing you with someone else. You quickly began moving again, trying to get back into a good rhythm. It was harder to ride him without the leverage your arms had given, relying on your leg muscles alone as you raised and lowered yourself. But the struggle just made it all the hotter. And Roger must have agreed because he groaned again, even though you couldn’t manage to move as much as before. “Such a hot cunt,” he moaned, “don’t stop.” You whined as you felt his grip on your wrists tighten but didn’t dare stop riding him even though the effort was making you pant and your thighs were beginning to burn. Roger’s breath hitched as you next sank down, “M-might have to keep y-ou around all t-tour.” He grunted. The thought made you moan and you found yourself hoping he meant it, hoping you could accompany him on the bus and share his hotel rooms. As if reading your thoughts Roger grunted, “Fuck you when-whenever I want. Y-ou’d like th-at.” It wasn’t a question but you answered anyway, a breathy, “yes,” falling from you as you desperately tried to keep fucking down on Roger’s cock. Thankfully your unexpected response had an effect on Roger. He let your wrists go suddenly, growling as he manhandled you off his lap. Pushing you to stand, you felt yourself bent forward over the drum kit as Roger took over fucking you. You braced yourself as much as you could, the drums rattling a little as you leaned on them. Mostly you were just glad your legs were getting a break, and thankful that your cunt was being stuffed at a faster pace. All you could do was moan at how good it felt, and brokenly plead with Roger not to stop. It was perhaps the loudest you’d ever been with anyone, not just Roger, but it wasn’t a conscious decision. They were not the sounds expected from a science major who was in the middle of a sexual awakening with her professor. They were the sounds of an eager groupie. Unashamed and unapologetic.

“Fuck me, fuck me, fuck me.” As if to prove that he was in charge, Roger paused, holding your hips so tight you couldn’t even squirm on the cock filling you, "Fucking cockwhore, aren’t you love?” You whined but nodded. Roger just chuckled and then picked up where he’d left, one hand moving up your back to hold in you in place as he railed into you, one hand slipping down to rub your clit sloppily. The tension in your stomach nearly had you sobbing, so close to orgasm, and without worrying about how you sounded, you began begging Roger to make you cum. It nearly pulled him from the scene. He’d hoped you’d get into it, lose your inhibitions and enjoy playing pretend, but he’d not expected to hear anything so wanton from you. He miraculously kept the rhythm of his thrusts, but momentarily lost his voice, managing only a moan at your desperation and then a croaky, “You gonna cum?” It wasn’t nearly as commanding or demanding as he’d been moments before, but he cleared his throat and said it again as a statement rather than a question. You were too far gone to notice the slip, nodding in answer to both. Roger’s lapse passed and he lay a spank against your arse, “Words, whore.” “Y-yes, yes, ‘m gonna cum. Fuck, please.” He spanked you again, chuckling at your pussy’s response, before moving back to your clit, his fingers more deliberate this time. “Go o-n then love,” his breathing was heavier, strained from the effort of fucking you as well as his own approaching climax, “Cum on m-y cock and I-I’ll give it to you e-every night – of the tour.” It didn’t take much more than that and the pleasure crashed into you, Your legs trembling as Roger kept fucking you. He was swearing at how tight you felt, managing to get out half formed thoughts about how desperate for his cum you were and how jealous the rest of the band would be that you’d gone to him. To an observer it would have been unintelligible gibberish. So, it was probably good that you barely registered it, much more concerned with how it felt as Roger came too, his hips pressing against you, his cock pushed as deep as he could get it, filling you with his warm cum.

*****

You came back to yourself, still bent over the drum kit, still full of Roger’s cock, his heavy breaths hot on your skin as he gently stroked your arm. The embarrassment came quickly after that, your skin burning as you cringed at everything you remembered saying. Roger pressed his lips to the back of your neck, “I’m gonna pull out now, okay?” You nodded, half wishing he’d stay put just so you could avoid looking at him for a bit longer. But he didn’t. He hissed a little as he eased himself from between your legs, apologising when you reacted similarly, and then turned you around, cupping your face in both palms as he kissed you properly, on the lips. You tried to push your embarrassment aside and enjoy the kiss but it was hard to do when you kept thinking about how ridiculous you must have sounded. In fact, you were so caught up in your head that you didn’t even notice the sound of Roger’s fly being done up or him gently pulling your underwear back up your legs. “Thanks,” you mumbled when you realised, his palms warms where he smoothed the fabric now on your hips, grateful that he’d thought of it before cum started dripping out of you. “Guess I should clean up.” Roger caught you around the waste and shook his head, retaking his seat as he guided you onto his lap again. Only this time you were facing him so he could kiss you more.

By the time he pulled away you were feeling marginally better, telling yourself if you’d been too much of an embarrassment, he wouldn’t want to make out so soon. “See, wasn’t that fun?” he asked, his knuckle brushing against your jaw. You made an evasive gesture, “I guess so, yeah.” “C’mon, you can’t tell me you didn’t enjoy it when you got so into it.” “I really wasn’t expecting that. I must have sounded like an idiot.” “What? No.” Roger seemed perplexed by your statement, “Try insanely sexy.” “Really?” “Absolutely Y/N. You were perfect. I knew it was going to be fun the moment I saw you’d altered your outfit. Because that meant you were going to give it a proper try.” You smiled shyly, “It was fun.” “There we go, yeah it was!” “I assume it’s not always like that though.” “No,” he shook his head, “I mean, it depends. Sometimes you can be fully emersed in the scenario like tonight, and sometimes you know you’re both just saying lines. But that doesn’t make it less hot. Would you want to experiment more with role play?” You thought about it for a moment, “I guess I’d be open to it.” Knowing Roger, you were sure he’d ask for more details so hastened to add, “I am a little curious about how pet play works now.” Roger seemed surprised, “I was meaning like trying other scenarios – the nurse thing maybe, or... but yeah, if you want to know more about pet play I think I can teach it.” “Oh, I- fuck,” you buried your face in Roger’s neck, feeling likely to die from embarrassment if you opened your mouth again. But Roger just chuckled, rubbing your back softly, “It’s good that you told me, Y/N. I want to know what you’re curious about.” “I guess so,” you said managing to lift your head high enough for Roger to press his lips to your temple, “I'm just curious how it works because it sounds a bit weird. Especially after tonight, cause like, I imagine it’d be harder to feel fully immersed in the scenario when you’re pretending to be an animal. It’s so different from pretending to be a groupie.” “I love that you’re curious. I’ll have the kids from Thursday night until Sunday but, if you want to, we could do this again tomorrow or Wednesday to fit in a bonus lesson about pet play. Would that work?” You nodded, managing to meet his eye briefly but looking down again as you said, “Wednesday would work. And maybe, if I don’t want to try pet play we can do the nurse thing instead.” “That’s a great plan,” Roger smiled, gently tilting your head up so he could kiss you again. You melted into him, almost disappointed when he stopped. It might have just been a projection of your own feelings but you got the sense that Roger didn’t quite want to stop either. All the same, he did, his hands lingering. “I should let you go and clean up.” “Yeah,” you nodded, “I should probably be going soon.” It was at least another thirty seconds before his hands left you and you stood up.

#my writing #my fics #roger taylor x reader #roger taylor smut #roger taylor imagine #a different kind of education #im also posting this at work with the dodgiest internet connection so i hope it works lmao

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bloodycassian · 2 years ago

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mcu fic.

Reader x Tony Stark. Angst, fighting then forgiveness.

“You can’t blame me. I was making sure you were safe.” Tony followed you down the stairs and into the bedroom, even though you threw the door shut behind you.

“How couldn’t I blame you? You gave away my location before I’d even had a chance to get a read on them. I’m sure they’ll be conducting all their tests outside again after The Iron Man shows up.” You spat, voice dripping with sarcasm and venom.

Plucking clothes from the bedroom floor and trying to evade him was serving as a distraction for now, but you knew the moment you stopped that you wouldn’t be able to hold back your anger. Rage clouded your vision, and your wings twitched, readying for battle or flight. Tony had made miraculous mistakes in the past, but none that had ever interrupted a mission before.

“That’s not the point - the tracker in your suit was shut-”

“You put a tracker in my suit?!” You rounded on him, nearly knocking over the vase of wilting flowers. You ripped them from their holder, readying to throw them at him. Tony had gotten them for you a few weeks ago, hand delivering them to your practice range. Perhaps they were to ease his conscience after apparently rigging you with a GPS monitor.

He flinched away, holding his arms up and cringing. After a moment of a white knuckled hold on them, you lowered it, but didn’t let go. His lips pressed together in a thin line, and he crossed his arms over his chest. “Can you blame me?” He asked after a long silence.

“Absolutely.” You snarled. You wanted to punch him, to throw him out the nearest window and watch his fancy suit catch him. He’d be fine, aside from a few bruises. You wished he were in that damned thing now, so maybe you could fight him.

He’d risked not only US intelligence missions in the future, but also your life by showing up like he did. He was well aware that you couldn’t fly as fast as him, and showing up with homing missiles locked onto his suit as singed more than a few of your feathers.

Blowing your cover because he was worried wasn’t a valid excuse. Your knuckles ached from your death grip on the bouquet.

His eyes darted to your back, where your wings flared out behind you. His jaw clenched, seeing the blackened curled feathers. “I’m sorry.” He muttered, his voice low. He looked down, then to the unmade bed you’d left in a rush that morning.

“What was that, Mr.Stark?” You prodded. He was terrible at apologies, but at least he saw he was at fault in this argument. “For what, again?”

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t… I mean I should trust you more. Trust that you can handle yourself.” He sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. He paced the length of the bed, his fingers fiddling with one of his rings. “I do know that you can. I just.. It’s hard, alright?”

“That’s not an excuse, though.”

“I know its not a fucking excuse!” He said through his teeth.

Your brows raised, his tone stoking the fire that waited to burst from you. “Watch your fucking tone-” You brought the flowers up slightly, the stems cracking in your palm. You were ready for this, ready for his overwhelmed blow up. He was always like this if he was in the wrong. Overwhelmed and unable to handle it. Sure, the guy could fight aliens and plan strategic invasions with ease, but present him with an emotional conversation and he’d lose his shit.

“Fuck, I know. I know! I’m sorry, alright? Can we just not-” He rolled his shoulders and looked to the tall ceiling, blowing out a breath. “I cant spend my time worrying about you dying. I’d rather be with you making sure you’re not dead than waiting for the news from some foreign ambassador. Next time I’ll just make sure I’m above you, and that your tracker is working-”

“You’re not putting a fucking tracker in my suit again Tony!” You threw up your arms, exasperated that he’d done it in the first place. You were well aware of his anxiety when you left, but never about why. He’d always told you to be safe, and you took that as his version of telling you he cared. But was he so truly convinced you’d die at any second? “The rest of them may be so willing to let you, because they really might die. They know that, and that’s what they signed up for. My job is not yours, or theirs Tony. Do you think I like being stuck at home while you’re out fighting off aliens and gods?”

He was silent for a long while after that, staring out at the skyscrapers and overcast skies of New York. You waited, a million arguments at the tip of your tongue if he tried arguing again. Eventually his eyes found yours, glassy and reddened. “I am sorry.” He said, tone softer. “I thought the tracker would help but the second you went through a cloud I guess… I guess it malfunctioned. I couldn’t stand it. I watched for it to re appear, waited until I thought this thing was going to bust.”

He tapped the arc reactor at the center of his chest. “I wasn’t going to put my money on a technical difficulty. I needed to know.” His hands clenched at his sides, shaking slightly.

Your body was still rigid, ready to fight. Ready to send him sailing out the window, still. But your heart softened seeing him so upset. He never cried. This was the man who’d nearly died several times over and hardly batted an eye. “So the solution is what, Tony?” You demanded, still angry that this fight had to happen at all. He knew better. He knew you better, didn’t he?

“Don’t put a tracker in your suit.” He nodded, eyes darting to your wings again. “And don’t bring home flowers the day after you put a tracker in your suit.”

“I knew it!” You gasped. He rushed to you though, before it could turn into any more of a fight. He hugged you, melting away the rest of your resentment towards him. The flowers dropped from your hand, the stale water from them coating your palm. Your body, still ready to fight, hugged him a bit more aggressively than necessary.

“Want to take it to the ring?” He asked, voice strained from your squeeze.

“I was considering throwing you out the window.” You muttered into his shoulder. He gripped the backs of your thighs and hauled you around him, pressing kisses to your chest and collarbone the entire way. His steps were sure and quick, and when he finally deposited you on the rubbery gym floor, you wiped the dregs of flower water that’d coated your hand on his chest.

He nodded, accepting the mess of green on his tank top. “Thanks for not going with the window plan.”

You shoved him away, then rolled into the ring. The boxing gloves at your corner had been more worn than any of the others in the gym, including his. You pulled them on with familiarity while he adjusted his.

You batted at his head while he slipped on his second. “Just hold on-” He said, attempting to push you back with a leg.

“Enemies won’t wait.” You teased. He’d used those same words on you so many times when you’d first arrived at the facility that it was now an ongoing joke.

You gave him his space, loosening up your body while you waited. You practically vibrated from the tension needing to get out. Fighting with him when he was being so stupid was a surefire way to get you tense enough to take a days long flight to nowhere near him.

His first punch was only a warning, drawing your attention back to the ring. A soft jab in the side while you looked out the windows, searching the sky for any threats. Since the attack by the Chitauri and the space portals they’d opened in broad daylight, watching the horizon had become a way for you to be sure that you were safe.

Your answering punch went straight to his bicep, then to his forearm and side. He blocked so well you hardly heard him sigh against the blows. “You’re a bitch.” You said quietly, taking another jab at his elbows, hoping he’d open his guard enough for you to get a good punch in.

His strike was so quick you didn’t have time to raise your gloves. He caught you on the shoulder, forcing you backwards a step while he advanced. He put you on the ropes with ease, after that. On the defensive, you attempted to sweep his legs from beneath him but only managed to bruise your ankle. His footing was as sure and stable as it was if he were wearing the damn suit. His glove came in quickly to your face, but he slowed it and only tapped your jaw. “That’s a knockout, sweetheart.” He panted, a wild grin on his face.

You didn’t care. It didn’t matter. Your body was no longer taut as a rubber band, and he wasn’t being paranoid anymore. With a smile, you leaned close to him and feigned a kiss, then brought your ankle upon the backs of his knees while he dropped his guard completely.

“Oh who’s the bitch now?” He grunted, then grabbed for your legs. He brought you down to the floor with him, attempting to hold your limbs down while you tried fighting him off. His fingers found your ribs and he exploited that, tickling you while he straddled your hips. “Say it!” He demanded, laughing and batting your hands away when you tried to stop him. Your abs hurt, your mouth hurt from laughing. You couldn’t catch your breath.

It was refreshing. It seemed like you’d been fighting with him for weeks over the smallest things, but now, with him being so normal with you, you could almost believe that you both didn’t risk your lives for the good of humanity every day. That he wasn’t supposed to leave for an undisclosed amount of time next week without you.

You reveled in it. You let him keep you pinned until the tickling turned into slow kisses.

“I will buy a new suit if you give me one reason to think you put another tracker in mine.” You warned.

He buried his face in your breasts and groaned.

#reader x tony stark #mcu fic #tony stark x reader

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princessflorida · 3 months ago

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he cant even escape the bi fetishism/tokenism after his death bc people need some type of vehicle to continually make excuses for being in some brainrotted chronically online fandom based around the poorly written children's fanfic of a racist transphobe going bonkers from the black mold in her house. i hate this website.

j.k. rowling throws a fit about how she thinks shes gonna get raped in the bathroom by a t girl every morning before coffee, david bowie dated t girls publicly. if david bowie's 100% serious "ladies, gentlemen, and others" address happened by the time rowling's terfy cheese fingers had access to twitter she'd be berating him about "teaching kids they can be 87 fake genders" in a tantrum that borderlines on sounding like a 7/11 parking lot crackhead.

never on my bingo card when her transphobia came to light (we already knew she was racist but apparently thats not actually bad enough) was there a square for "people STILL wont let go of their chokehold deathgrip vice clamp on jk rowling in 2025" like i bet the vast majority of yalls fandom is a bunch of queer kids too. why cant queer and trans ppl let go of harry potter? seriously? as if there's not far more interesting/worthwhile things to be doing. this woman doesn't love us and her art is all from the perspective of someone who wants us dead. it's cringe. stand up and be somebody. i thought quitting heroin was the most difficult thing but y'all have shown me that apparently j.k. rowling's yawnfest is harder to break off than junk.

j.k. rowling would sell most of yall for horse glue and think you need to be on an SO registry and now we have to go thru a repeat of the 2010's batshit insanity of everyone re-catching up to stale tea from 50 years ago that david bowie was openly bisexual. yawn.

bisexual people aren't "variants" of your fic ship. we're real people. yall are so goddamn weird. why do we always get the nuts? i hate fandom culture so bad. always making characters out of real people in one way or another.

why cant yall pick literally anything else to be interested in? it's pathetic. i'm so glad i'm not famous so people with worms in their brain couldn't use random old pics of me and my friends, exes, and flings as some kind of pinterest board aesthetic description for some weird psychosexual attachment issues based on the drivelings of a violent bigot. and can't even do it correctly bc they can't even get the facts straight. i expect as much of a rowling stan but that doesn't mean it ceases to make me cringe with repulsion and disappointment.

i'll be waiting for the angry 14yos that think there's literally anything reedeemable abt j.k. rowling or her shitty racist writing. ppl like her say drag queen library storybook readings are perverting and twisting generations of kids' brains bc she's projecting her own insecurity bc she's made thousands of brainrotted kids that turn into brainrotted adults still loyal to someone who would force them to wear a pink triangle if she had her way just bc she wrote a bunch of books about waving magic wands around.

bowie, while an imperfect person who did do bad things and wasn't a saint, continuously spent time in queer/trans spaces, stood up for the freedom of gender and sexuality experimentation and expression, and was bisexual himself. he dated queer/trans people, hung out with drag queens and in gay bars, and repeatedly put themes of gender expression and sexuality at the forefront of his art his entire 50 year long career. he never treated us differently, because he was one of us.

j.k. rowling not like us.

which side are you on, boys?

craziest wolfstar variant is david bowie and mick jagger. liiiiiiike

EDIT: ok i now know top left is NOT mick jagger. my apologies to any david johansen fans out there. in my defense, they look very similar!

#marauders #david bowie #try me idgaf #im old im queer im trans and im tired #bisexuality

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b1issoul · 11 months ago

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Diary #1 071124

Morning was unpleasant. It was a literal shit cause I really hate it when people wake me up like just let me wake up on my own! Another thing, people downstairs' literally talking shit about me with this 'realization' stuff as if i cant hear them (this happens all the time lol piece of shits fuck off nd go back to yalls houses and know your places.) all of these happened at 7 in the moring really! what a day!! so after that terrible time of waking up, i decided to dozed off AGAIN nd woke up at 8 ig?? did some zumba exercises cos i feel like life's been shit nd body's hella heavy so i just had to... did a lil break by rewatching nana tour (SVT!! I LOVE THEM SO MUCH) then went downstairs to take a bath.. HERE COMES THE HORRIBLE THING EVER so after taking a bath i was like lemme have a productive day nd do my rituals (make-up duh) while listening to sum music cos thats literally my definiton of productive THEN I FOUND OUT THAT THE WIFI'S GONE LIKE BRO WHY WHHYWHYWHYWHYWHY so my idea of having a productive day was thrown away and all i could do is lay down cos ion have a phone YES I DONT GIRL IF U EVER READ THIS OR OPEN THIS ACC ND ACCT READ THIS BLOG I HOPE U HAVE A PHONE NOW PLEASE! yea so i had to fight my demons cos mom's gonna be mad if i ever sleep but the demons won so!! i mean what does she want me to do anyway?? nothings interesting in this house so idc what to do either unlike her she got a phone nd a load girly wont even let me connect to her hotspot okay imma sleep then! WAS SO DESPERATE TO HAVE THE WIFI BACK THAT I LITERALLY DREAMT OF IT LOLOLOLOL i legit went to open the laptop after that dream nd ended up being disappointed thennnnnn IT FINALLY CAME BACK!! AH I WAS SO HAPPY AA THE THINGS ID DO FOR A WIFI REALLY!! then a worker came by nd did smth at my aunt's store (which is ours btw she js rented it out) AND APPARENTLY HE HAD TO TURN OFF THE WIFI SO IWAS CRYING DEEP INSIDE COS SIR THE WIFI JUST CAME BACK ND URE GON DO THAT?? NO JUSTICE AT ALL!! AT ALL. i was hella bored so i just glued my hand and wait for it to dry out LOL i even used a blower but the effort's nothing cos im a dumb bitch! after peeling it out i put it in a bondpaper nd sprayed it using hairspray thinking itd be hard DUMB AFFF then had a lil talk w my cousin nd brother just to pass the time cos it was really boringggg THEN THE WIFI'S REALLY BACK NOW YAYYYYYYY. had a lil serving for dinner cos she changing girllll then was so glad cos ate did the dishes yayy #princess ND THATS IT IG??? ik reading this would be cringe i jus hope that no one would find this acc lol pls get out if u did

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solivagant-nubivagant · 2 years ago

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No wait. I was scrolling through Instagram while shoving pasta in my mouth yk like you do….and I ran across this reel….a woman crying cause she baked a man cookies and the man just wanted sex…I mean ofc girl you were crying 🥺 And honestly happened with me too….they just never cared about anything that I made them….I remember I went to see my first boyfriend on our “monthi-versary” (yeah cringe af I know it was a big thing when I was 13) thingy…I baked him his favourite cake and that motherfucker didn’t even show up…and same with my ex…I have a habit of making little stuff for people I care about…and he never showed any reaction like “wow that’s good” that’s it…like even if he gave a good compliment it sounded so dry….

But then I just started thinking about Him…and the time I gave him that little box I made for him 😭😭 the best way I can describe the feeling is through this 😭😭😭❤️❤️❤️❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️😭❤️❤️😭❤️

HE IS SOOOO CUTE. He hugged it 😭 he said “bruh I can’t fight but if someone touched this box I’d fight them” and then he looked so emotional 😭😭 it was sooo cute

He is this really tall guy and the owl I made him…it’s so little and he hugged it and he was gently patting it 😭😭 he saw the owl and goes “NIMBUSSSSS” and held it 😭

oh god—

He just kept hugging/holding the box the whole time it was so cute oh my god I can’t believe this guy is real 😭😭

I was so scared he won’t show up but bruh 😭 when he saw me HIS FACE HIS FACE THE WAY HIS EYES FLEW OPEN I CANT EVEN

HE KEPT CALLING ME PRETTYYYYY

THE WAY HE WAS PLAYING WITH MY EARRINGS OH GOD IT WAS SO CUTE While making little sounds 😭

And then and then—

WE WERE MEASURING OUR HAND SIZES THEN HE INTERLOCKED OUR FINGERS AND MADE A SOUND LIKE “ploooop” 😭

Then one time he touched my shoulder to make sure I was real and then I put my head on his shoulder it was so comfortable I loved it so much—

😭

The hugggggg HE SMELLED SO GOOD I WAS SNIFFING MY SHIRT LATER

He wore the black shirt 😭 he remembered 😭

And THE HUG 😭

If I start gushing about him it would never end I don’t wanna type rn but I wanna talk about him he’s so cute

Also I deserve that I’ve been studying since morning….gonna go do more now BUT HES SO CUTE OH GOD I LOVE HIM

Look what he’s done to me…this is so weird I am never reading this again

I need to write more about him tbh

#29 November 2023

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mikkouille · 4 years ago

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can't fall asleep I have poetry in me

#lets write romance verses that are sooooooooo #and i have no one to give them too???#sooo evil #gonna dm em to my parasocial wife so that i may get blocked! crossing my fingers!#im not giving them to any1 who isnt my lover sry no one but me and my beloved r allowed to read my cringe!#conceptually i go hard at high end romance ngl...#i got the theory down i got it!#i hope i wake up tomorrow and its baaaaaad itd be funnyyyyy #if its bad once im morning then im sending it to PS (para-spouse) for real like yooooooo look at what mediocrity ur missing out on by not #knowing of my existence 🥴#if its bad then ig ill have to go seek out a partner bc what a waste otherwise! good verses n no one to give them to!#dating solely so that i can receive reviews of romance poetry.#thats what made me so restless i had romance in me waiting to hatch.....oh my!#cant wait til my job is to write romcoms i only want that from life.

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princeseerow · 5 years ago

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like, im not kidding. if hiei and/or kuwabara were trolls, or if the homestuck quadrants system existed in yyh, hiei and kuwabara would have such blatantly obvious kismesis potential to the point where literally anyone in a ten mile radius could pick up on it

#post #not gonna tag it as hieibara for fear of it showing up in the tag where People Can See but just know.....#the rest of it would follow as such:#kuwameshi would be <>#bc theyre the solkat of yyh dkfhhfsg #kurahi is probably <3 and as of yet i havent picked up on any kurameshi chemistry yet but that is subject to change #and then kuwabara <3 yukina of COURSE bc they are adorable #koto and juri have a <3/<3< thing going on and shizuru probably <3 botan but i havent decided #anyway i cant wait until i wake up in the morning and read this post and instantly cringe skdjsjd

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slashingdisneypasta · 2 years ago

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Slenderman x Reader || Oneshot

Plot: You and Slender have had a big fight, and broke up. You’re both done. Things are just too hard for you both, to stay together. You’ve broken it up and made it up more times then either of you care to count and you just cant do it anymore. You want each other, you need each other, you love each other more then anything else- But you’re giving up. You think its right thing to do.

Now, watch Offender, who is definitely the least knowledgeable man on earth about love, talk to his brother and fix this.

Warnings: Angst (Though I tried to put some comedy in there!) with an insinuated happy ending. Also, obviously, Offender.

Tagging: @ladala-shihiro , @miss-understood , and @yesthetrashbin . I hope y'all like this! ^^

This is a work off my old blog, @mainstreambaddies , remastered ^^ I was reminded about it talking to @marinerainbow ^^

“So, then-” You clear your throat, holding onto the handle to your suitcase, standing out on the porch. Slender's still inside the house, but the door is open. “This is done, now?” This has been done so many times before that its hard to believe that this is really over this time. You almost can’t take it seriously, like you should. Like it is. Like you know that you'll wish you had when you remember it tomorrow morning. You peer up at Slender with a smirk, though, because you just cant. “Not gonna meet me at the edge of the forest again?” Like he’s done the last, what, 70 times?? Apart from those times that you stopped and realised you love him, and ran back for him, of course.

Offender sits on the couch, just inside the mansion, seemingly reading the dirty parts out of some of Slenders books out of immense boredom, when he hears what’s conspiring feet from him. Promptly, he decides this is much more interesting and stops reading. He doesn't put the book down, so as to look like he's reading and not eavesdropping, but he most certainly is.

You get the feeling there would be a stiff, taught, no teeth kind of smile on him if he had those kinds of features. He’s standing in the doorway, with his arms crossed-not like he’s annoyed, or expecting something; More like he’s in thought, holding himself where he is. Together, and most importantly- still. “... Mm, no, not this time.” His voice is dull. “We discussed this already Y/N. This is final.”

“I know.”

“But we have said that before though, haven't we?”

As always, he can read your mind without even actually reading your mind.

You take a deep breath, and let it go. One of the many things you’ll have to let go.

Because you have to.

Because this is the last time. No more. You couldn't do it again,... and you wouldn't want to. Its too hard.

Offenders interest, and doubts, are thoroughly perked. What have they been discussing?? What do these two think they know?? What’s happening?? He rolls over onto his stomach on the couch to look at them, before pushing himself up onto his forearms. “Wait, what're you two doing?”

Slender flat out ignores him, while you give him a funny little look before looking back at Slender again. It hurts to say these next few words. God, its beginning to sink in- this is over. “So... I’m going now.” You love him... but its over. You couldn't do it; There were just too many obstacles in your way and you couldn't hack it.

Why couldn't you just figure it out?

“Okay.”

As you nod at him one last time, in the most awkward final goodbye that anyone has ever witnessed in real life or on TV, Offender cringes.

“-Hey, nobody answered my question. What are you doing?” Panic is starting to set in for real, as you leave, and Slender makes no move to follow you, or waive, or say anything else. He just watches.

What is this?? Anyone with even one working braincell can tell that these two are more meant for each other then any other so-called fucking 'romance' in history. What is this!?

Panicking even more, Offender wants to go and catch you before you get away, but instead of the graceful chase he was intending to give, he manages to get caught trying to escape the couch and tumbles off of it and hard onto the wooden floor. Its not been waxed in a long time. He’s going to have splinters in his face, for sure.

At least this gets Slenders attention, who stops watching you leave for the last time, and turns to look dubiously at his brother. It proves as nearly a distraction from his heart burning in his chest, so he’s eager to get to the insults. “... Are you starting to age? One of the first signs is loss of coordination, so you may well be. If you start to lose your hearing, do let me know. I’m next, after all.”

“No, I’m not starting to age, you spiteful little dick.” Offender, again gracelessly, gets up from the floor and fixes his coat, before stomping over to Slender with a firm, angry finger pointed. “I was disoriented, by the bullshitery happening a few feet away!”

Slender's voice is still dull, but in a difference way now. Tired. He just wants to go to his room and sleep for 11 weeks. His heart feels like its oozing out of his rib cage. Like its become liquid, and it’ll never be better again. This is too much, he didn't sign on for this, this is one of the many many reasons that humans are foul, loathsome creatures he shouldn't bother himself with, fuck- Why didn't he listen to his own goddamn advice?

He tries to perk up, though, for the sake of one of his favourite kind of digs. “Oh, is Jeff home?”

“Can you stop playing around for a couple zeptoseconds and talk straight with me, pixie boy?”

Ah, ‘Pixie boy’. Slender’s been waiting for that little nickname to come back around... not. Offender named him that as Slender's attitude really began to blossom as he grew up, because he resembled one of those little, spiteful, tricky fairies that humans go on and on about stealing their firstborn's, and such. Like Slender would ever want anything with a snivelling little infant. At least not a living, one- And he wouldn't bother leaving a replacement.

“No, shan’t. And can’t. Good day.” Slender makes a yawning sound, genuinely tired even not counting the disgusting heartbreak rushing like sepsis poisoning through his veins- from arguing with you all through the night before you came up with your very sensible conclusion, to end things. Offender watches, in complete disbelief and exasperation as Slender turns his back on him and heads through to the kitchen.

“Bitch, if you think I’m gonna give up that easy... “ Offender mutters to himself, as he rolls up his sleeves for emphasis and goes after his little brother.

-Who hears what was just muttered, and enquires about his supposed consequences, if he did indeed think that Offender would give up that easy. Cheekily. “Hm?”

“Then- you’ll-... be sorry-” Slender laughs quietly, and Offender gets the idea that that answer is not the right one. He also wants to punch him, but what else is new. “You will be... you will... you’ll be sorely mistaken, young man!!”

Oh, fuck. Offender thinks. I’m starting to sound like Splender. Except somehow less intimidating. Goddamn.

They travel through the mansion until Slender gets to his room. He slams the door closed right before Offender was to walk in after him, gets a frustrated swear in response, and is met with a big brother to the face a second later, when Offender teleports right in front of him.

Slender sighs in utter discontent.

Without a word, though, he veers around Offender and heads for the left wall of his room, which he’s converted into a makeshift kitchen. So that he can have tea and breakfast, without having to venture into public eating area and see people. He fills the kettle with water and sets it on the stove, using a tentacle to turn the dial. He doesn't turn back to Offender, just stands at the stove and watches the old fashioned, open topped kettle.

God, he’s diminished. Its taking all he has to keep up the front he has, now. He takes a slow, deep breath in. Why did he do that? Why did he end it with you? Slender suddenly feels the urge, physically, to move forward and get you back, even if he has to beg on his knees, but-

Slenders shoulders slowly, gently drop again as he lets out the breath. -but, he cant. He wont let himself.

This is the best, for both of you.

Mostly for them. Slender cant help but add on. Because, its true. He wants nothing, quite like he wants for you to be happy. If it meant his own destruction, which it apparently does, then that's what he'll do. He'll make it happen. He'll suffer.

“Tea?” Slender pipes up, starting the conversation this time himself, surprisingly. Offender looks at his back with a mix of ‘I don't know what to do here’ and that rare bit of ‘help him’ that always seems to come tearing out of the deepest parts of him when his brothers are in trouble. He had been reading Slender's thoughts and now he understood what his little brother was thinking- but it was still dumb as hell. And he refuses to take it.

His voice is cold, but his words give him all away, when he speaks next. “I want you to know that if that’s what you really think, that you’re both- that they’re, gonna be better for this, then you're delusional. But I know that you don't listen to anyone else, so yes. I would like tea. Thanks.”

It relaxes Slender a little knowing that Offender knows where he stands. That he doesn't have to nail into his brother how fixed his mind always is on things, like he has to with nearly everyone else who thinks they can change his mind. They cant. No one has that ability and its quite exhausting proving that over and over. He supposes that's one thing his idiot brothers are good for.

He nods in response, the slightest bit of relief dripping off his forehead.

The next few minutes are silent, except for the eventual question of ‘Earl Grey or English Breakfast?’, and the response of ‘Irish’. The silence continues, until Slender pushes a cup into Offenders hands and then finally, finally rests down in an elegant chair and table that looks out on his beloved forest. There’s another chair, which Offender finds home in, as Slender looks depleted with his shoulders hunched forward, his fingers tight around his cup, and his gaze on the window. Or, what’s outside, of course.

Seeing this, what Offender can only construe as a look of longing- he tries again. “So... you... don't wanna make up with Y/N, because...?”

Slender sighs, giving in to the conversation. Any other day, he’d fight it till the cows came home, but today... he just doesn't have it in him. Too... tired. He shifts his focus onto the dark, milk-less void of in his cup and slowly, shakily lets go with one hand to trace the edge gently. “I want off this rollercoaster, Offender. Y/N and I... we don't do anything but fight. I love them, somehow- but I’ll live forever, while they wont. They deserves to spend their limited amount of time in peace, and they wont get that with me. That's just... how it is. That's what we have seen.”

“You know it only feels like you fight all the time, when you’re fighting... that's normal, bro. There’s plenty of time when you and that kid are freaken… merged like black holes.” Oh, wow, that is not a bad analogy. Okay- “That must be why you’re hurtin’ so much now.”

“Black holes stay around for a long time.” Slender tells him immediately, and Offender hates him in that moment for knowing about space.

“Okay, bad analogy.”

“Yes.”

Frustrated again, Offender puts his tea firmly on the table to arouse attention. “Alright, new angle. It will come as no shock to you that we’re about as evil as that devil bastard himself, yes? We’re absolute turds next to the fucking gold crapping angel that is Splender, and the charity funder that is Trend.” Slender shifts, at that. Yes, that’s true. But does he needs to put it so unflatteringly? “ -Yet, that sweet, probably hallucinatory human out there in the forest fell in love with you. And you, with all your crusty, hates-every-damn-thing-ness, fell in love with them too. Love! You! Do you know how crazy that is? One in 7 billion. And that's with normal fucking people. Why the fuck are you letting it disappear???”

“Its for the best-”

“That kid, that mortal person, out there, is the best thing either of us could ever have hoped to deserve and you stumbled upon it! Now, you think you can just let them walk away?? And, also, what makes you think you're capable of that, anyway?”

Slender brings the tea, shakily to his ripped lips. This is starting to annoy him again, so he takes a deep breath. “...- ”

“You’ve never been able to do it before!!” Offender mildly rages, exasperated, as he stands up, letting his chair squeal back behind him. Slender looks up, to see his face over his tea. “Okay, okay. One last thing. Tell me, Slender. Can you stand to wake up tomorrow, and feel absolutely fucking empty? Because that's what's coming. You’re going to sleep peacefully all night, without a turn or even a snore escaping you, and you're gonna wake up and for a second you’re not gonna remember. But this ain't somethin' you can sleep off. You're gonna hurt, its probably gonna feel like you're dying, and its gonna be all your fault. You gave away the very last thing, that you should have.”

At the mental image that penetrates his mind and, god forbid, his heart, Slender physically winces. Nearly looses hold of his cup.

Offender just watches him for seconds, calming down from his outburst... before shoving his hands deep into his pockets, and pushing back his shoulders. Hopefully, that did it. Hopefully, that's enough -Besides, all this caring is starting to give him back pains. He desperately needs to go do something bad. Maybe he’ll hit up the streets.

Before he teleports away, Offender doesn't quite catch sight of the way Slenders tea gets set down on the table. His body convulses ever so slightly, at the realisation of how fucking wrong he is.

Then in the next second, Slender's gone, too.

#Slenderman x Reader #Offenderman x Reader #Slenderman #Offenderman #Slenderman x Reader Oneshot #Offenderman x Reader Oneshot #Oneshot #Slender Brothers #Slender Bros #Creepypasta #Creepypasta x Reader #Slender Bros x Reader #Slender Brothers x Reader

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rueren · 3 years ago

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roommates

with : eren, armin, jean

warnings: gn!reader, platonic relationship w them as your roommate, slight mention of drunk eren and drunk jean, mention at protecting yourself from someone breaking in??? not much else?

aot m.list || masterlist

♡♡♡ reblogs and comments are appreciated ♡♡♡ tags are open ♡♡♡

➥ eren

has more than once asked you to help make sure he gets up in time for a test or an interview or something, and without fail every single time he has slept through both his alarm(s) and you shaking him awake.

he leaves his hair ties everywhere.

ugh i can feel it in my bones this man torments you to no end, he's like an annoying older brother. putting stuff where you cant reach it, flicking your head, the works. he loves pestering you but he knows you wont just sit there and take it so he learns his boundaries pretty quick.

literally never refills the toilet paper roll and always leaves the seat up

always texts you if you want an order of whatever food he's getting himself on the way home from work or class or whatever. but he calls u last second like "yo, u want anything? i'm in the drive thru. if u say no ur not getting any of my fries like last time".

he is also your resident bug catcher but he is as terrified as you are. "'rennnn, theres a spider again" "what am i, an exterminator? grow a pair you big baby" but still gets up to go get it for you, and if you mention how you saw him hesitate and cringe and shudder once he flushes it down the toilet he will grumble and pout and huff his way back to his room, throwing a "you're buying dinner" over his shoulder.

has definitely fallen asleep in your room by accident after a night out. when he comes to he remembers vaguely coming to ask you if you guys were out of cereal and the next thing he knew he was groggily waking up, face first in your carpet to your screaming and then dragging him by his foot to his room.

he offers to drive you places, especially if its late. if you're going out with friends for the night he waits up for you, and when you get back and hes half asleep on the couch. when you poke fun at him for caring about you so much, he swears up and down he was just watching some late night sitcom, and not to get ahead of yourself. hes ducking back to his room with pink dusting his ears in his little lying-telltale, immediately falling asleep when his head hits the pillow.

➥ armin

he's so sweet. there's like little to no problems between you guys as roommates, he's so respectful and just grrrr he's adorable.

his only thing is he leaves his mugs around the house. not on purpose, he just gets so absorbed into whatever he's reading that he forgets he made himself a cup of whatever in the first place.

he makes sure to take note of things that you use frequently/run out of quickly and always shoots you a text when he's going into a grocery store or shop or something. if he isn't with you for groceries, he asks you to let him know when you get home so he can come down and help with the bags.

always says hello when he comes home, or lets you know when he's going out. helps you proof read your essays, whether you're in the same class or not.

grouchy first thing in the morning. like, completely different person grouchy

makes the absolute best coffee ever. hands down.

always makes extra food for you and leaves it in the fridge for you.

always refills the britta / water jug / etc

asks about what the book you're reading is about, or what show is that.

asks you to cut his hair cuz you did it one time for him a thousand years ago when he had to go to a last minute meeting and his hair was not how he wanted it and he loves how to turned out so he always asks you to do it for him.

doesn't mind too much if you borrow his stuff without asking.

➥ jean

the definitely strikes me as the type to want you to take the room furthest from the door. "what if some creep gets in, yanno? I can take 'em".

gets you a bat to keep by your bed as a house warming gift ahsgjkfsa he's adorable. he came home kinda late and semi drunk once and you almost knocked him out with the bat, but it he cant tell if he's scared shitless that he almost died or happy you actually used it.

unlike eren, he refills the toilet paper roll BUT he puts it on backwards

ruffles your hair as if your a kid, even if you're older than him. he's taken a liking to you, see's you like a sibling.

also your resident handyman. don't even think about getting ur landlord to fix stuff, his pride n joy is his tool kit he got for Christmas a while back and he is jumping at any chance he gets. so if the sink is acting weird? he's pulling out his tool kit. you mention in passing how your desk chair is squeaky for some reason? he's already up and rolling his sleeves with a "c'mere, show me the noise". the shower pressure isn't as good as it used to be? he's cussing out your cheapskate landlord and wiping at his forehead with his wrench in hand tryna figure out the problem. some door is squeaky? fixed.

leaves his lil sketches are charcoal on the coffee table and dining table all the damn time. more often than not theres art stuff on the table than actual food

he likes going grocery shopping with you when he can.

also enjoys cooking and cleans up after himself. so you got one less thing to fight over

snores so damn loud ohmygod he snores like a dad

makes a big show whenever you buy something for him while your out, no matter what it is. coffee, some protein thing he's been meaning to buy, socks, whatever. when you walk through the doors with the bag in your arms he's coming to you with a shit eating grin and open arms and plants the loudest, wettest, phattest, most obnoxious kiss on your cheek "awhhh, would ya look at thattttt, you love me dontcha?" "you are a terror. i am going to move out" "who's gonna kill all your creepy crawlies then hmm???"

he always tries and intimidates your dates that show up at the door, working out just enough right before they show up so his arms look that much bigger. "have them home by 9" "okay yeah, whatever dad. I'll let you know when I get in".

#ruu writes #file.eren #file.armin #file.jean #file.aot #eren x reader #armin x reader #jean x reader #eren jeager x reader #eren yeager x reader #armin arlet x reader #jean kirschtein x reader #gn!reader #gender neutral reader

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euphoricimagination · 3 years ago

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𝑴𝒊𝒅𝒏𝒊𝒈𝒉𝒕☾︎-𝑺𝒖𝒏𝒂 𝒙 𝒓𝒆𝒂𝒅𝒆𝒓

- It's midnight, you have classes tomorrow morning, and yet you can't sleep, so Suna decides to help out despite being the middle of the night.

12:43 am reads in the clock and yet sleep isn’t coming any time soon. Today was a productive day, you even felt tired in the afternoon, but now laying down in your pillow all that tiredness basically disappeared, leaving you wide awake. So you decided to text Suna, who you knew was most likely awake.

You are good friends with the volleyball team in Inarizaki thanks to Samu, and tend to go to their practices whenever you had time to spare. In the beginning things with him were a little awkward due to his stoic demeanor, but shortly after you two started to get closer and closer, ending up with you having a crush on him.

The Inarizaki team soon realized that Suna also had a big crush on you. Whenever you were around, he became more proactive practicing, he never lets you buy anything, his hoodies were basically yours, or he simply goes to talk to you in the breaks. You weren’t oblivious to this; you noticed that he was more attentive to you than the rest – and Samu “accidentally” confirmed it one day – but confessing was still nerve-wracking. What if it was just a big misunderstanding? You couldn’t just ruin a good friendship.

[You] “Yo, you up?”

[Rin🦊] “Yeah, what are YOU doing up?” “You tend to be out by now”

[You] “Cant sleep😒” “And I’m bored”

[Rin🦊] “Do I look like a clown to you?”

[You] “I mean...”

[Rin🦊] “Rude🤨” “And here I was going to help you out, guess you can deal with it alone”

[You] “Wait no!” “Pls help me🥺”

[Rin🦊] “Should’ve though of that before, sunshine ;)”

[You] “Come on, you cant be serious” “Rin…” “Are you seriously leaving me on read??”

You stare at your phone in disbelief, he could tease you forever but he rarely left you on read, especially if you two were talking. So you’re there, just scrolling in your phone waiting for sleep to appear. It’s 1:25 am now when another text comes in. “Come and open the door”.

You stand up from your bed slowly, trying to make as little sound as possible when opening the door. Suna was there waiting, tired look in his face, a extra hoodie on one of his arms.

- What are you doing here?

- You couldn’t sleep – said simply. ‘So fucking cute’ thinks Suna when he saw you in your pijamas and a low ponytail.

- Yes…and? That doesn’t explain anything

- Let’s go to the convenience store and get some food, that either helps you get tired or cures your boredom

- Rin, it’s 1:30 in the morning, we have classes in a few hours and you go to practice even earlier.

- I didn’t come all the way here for nothing. Put this on, I’ll buy you your food – says throwing you his extra hoodie, the one that you particularly like. He wouldn’t say it out loud, but he would do anything for you. Even if that meant going out in the middle of the night just to help you out.

- Fine, but don’t blame me if you’re tired in practice

You two are now sitting in the convenience store eating a pot of ramen each. Both of you with tired faces, yet laughing out loud at his stories. He absolutely loves telling you all the gossip that happens in the team.

- …and then Tsumu thought it will be a good idea to throw a ball at the back of his head, the fight was so big that we had to call it a day early.

- Sometimes I wonder what’s going on on Tsumu’s head… like why?

- I don’t know, but man it was fun to watch – says while you yawn – am I boring you sunshine?

- No, no sorry…God I look so tired – you said after catching your reflection in your phone, 2:45 am.

- You do. Ouch! You said it yourself! – says with a small smile after you threw one of his cheese sticks at him. ‘And somehow you’re still the prettiest thing my eyes have seen’ Suna thinks, slightly cringing at himself but knowing how true the statement was. He could just look at you for days without getting tired.

- You’re not supposed to agree! – you said back with an annoyed tone, another yawn interrupting your giggles

- Come on sunshine, let’s get you home – says getting up taking your hand before leaving. The short walk back to your house was in a comfortable silence, both of you not wanting to disturb the quiet atmosphere while still holding hands.

- You sure don’t want to stay? Is already late and you have to head back – you say when you reach your home

- Nah, you have to sneak back in anyway, it’s not thaat far away – says with a tired grin

- Thank you for coming all the way here

- You owe me, I only went out of my bed because it was you

- I know – you said. You moved forward to hug him by his waist, laying your face on his chest. You didn’t know if it was his words that gave you a little more confidence or it was the lack of sleep acting up – How can I repay you?

- Easy – ‘Fuck it’ thinks Suna to himself. One of his hands goes to your waist while the other takes your chin delicately, moving it so you can look at him. His eyes move down to your lips, and then up again to look at your eyes. Sleep suddenly drifts away as he slowly closes the distance between the two of you, pressing your lips together softly. After several seconds, you two pull away, a smile tugging from both of your lips when noticing your blush faces – Done. From now on I only accept this as a repayment

- I don’t mind that – You said pulling him down one more time for a quick kiss. You will talk about this properly tomorrow, too tired to make a coherent line of thought now.

- See you tomorrow sunshine – says with a lazy smirk on.

- See you – You said entering your house quietly, the smile not leaving your face on the way to your room.

- So there you were – says your mom quietly going out of her room – I should scold you for going out this late, but at least you were with Suna so I’ll let it slide for today. Go to sleep – says with a teasing smile on

- S-sure – you said while blushing. She clearly saw everything. Once in your room, you lay down putting your phone to charge, noticing a message from Suna

“Good night doll, dream about me cause I certainly will dream about you ;)”

BONUS

The next morning you arrive to Inarizaki with a tired, yet happy look. You’re passing next to the gym to grab some milk when you hear someone calling you

- Chibii! Wait!! – says Tsumu coming out of the gym alongside Samu, both with a teasing grin

- Interesting, both you and Sunarin have the same tired look on, any reason? – says Samu

- Ehh…

- Hanging out with him in the middle of the night, huh? – says Tsumu showing you Suna’s Instagram story, a photo of when you where picking a ramen with the caption ‘what I do for this idiot🙄' – so…you two are finally together?

- We are. Hi sunshine – says Suna passing his arm through your shoulder and kissing the corner of your lips – Stop bothering her so early, let’s go

He takes your hand and pulls you towards the classroom, both of the twins giving a thumbs up with a satisfied smile on.

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turtle-steverogers · 4 years ago

Note

i was thinking but do you know the unsent project? it is this website where you can write a message to your first love that you never sent to them. now imagine steve writing one (or multiple) to bucky after he came out of the ice after nat told him about it... yeah

hello hi anon this broke me and it was too perfect not to turn into a ficlet klafjldskjfalskf thank you

Unsent Letters

To:

Steve’s fingers freeze over the keyboard, the cursor blinking at him. It feels like it’s taunting him-- teasing him with the burden of choking out a name. What should he even say? The sender is anonymous, but how many people are named Bucky out there? Would anyone even care?

To: Bu

Steve huffs and backspaces, his hands trembling as he curls them into fists. He isn’t sure what provoked Natasha to tell him about this website. It’s a cruel tease to everything he wishes he could say-- wished he could say before Bucky slipped through his fingers. And now his only option is yelling into an abyss. The text box is black and daunting. He turns it yellow. No, too happy. Green. Yes, that’s fine. Bucky’s favorite color was always green.

His gaze wanders away from the screen of his hefty Dell laptop and out the window of his apartment. DC’s low rising buildings span out in front of him. His gut aches; he misses New York already. But he knows being there would only mangle his soul further, seeing his already alien home torn to shreds by literal space whales. He huffs, thinking of Bucky’s comics. His stories came to life after all. Bucky would have probably vibrated out of his skin if he knew there was other life out there.

To: My astronaut

How’s space treating you? It’s treating me pretty badly, if I’m being honest. If only you could see what it’s done to Brooklyn. I think you’d be pretty mad at it if you knew…

Steve hesitates, reading back over what he’s typed. It’s stupid as hell, and he cringes, but he doesn’t backspace. His fingers find the keys again.

I miss you something awful. I don’t think that even encompasses how much I’m hurting without you. I feel so lost right now-- space is much bigger and scarier than you’d think. I know you’d love it. I wish you could see bits of it, but god, I just want to go home. I want you to come home.

Steve freezes again and finds the screen blurry where tears have welled in his eyes. His jaw clenches as he pictures the way Bucky would laugh at him-- teasing him for his dramatics and ruffling his hair. He wishes he could be there now, rolling his eyes and nudging Steve’s shoulder.

“What’re you upsetting yourself for?” He’d say, gently closing the laptop and coaxing Steve into his arms. “I’m right here, pal.”

And if Steve closes his eyes, he can almost feel Bucky’s warmth enveloping him. But he’s not there. He’s dead, and Steve’s a goddamn ghost, drifting through a future that doesn’t know him.

He opens his eyes and stares at the text box, then clicks submit.

The screen loads, and his message is gone, his pain forever documented in the abyss.

For someone who fought aliens two weeks after waking up from his impromptu seventy year sleep, Steve’s life is pretty monotonous. He contemplates this unfortunate fact as he stands in front of his toaster, hair sticking up on the back of his head as he nurses a mug of coffee and waits for his toast to pop.

It’s 5:45 in the morning and he tries to remember a time when he didn’t rise this early. Before the war, perhaps. Though, he’s always been a bit of an early bird. His home life was sporadic to put it lightly and he’d learned from an early age that the sooner he was awake, the better it was for everyone. Vigilance is not a new concept for Steve.

He hasn’t always stayed up late, though. That’s certainly new, and he feels this fact viscerally as he catches sight of his reflection in the microwave. There are bags under his eyes that will be gone by mid-morning thanks to the serum. Dermatologists hate him, Natasha says. Steve thinks he’s pretty lucky that the serum more or less equipped him with a built-in anti-aging agent. His father had started balding by thirty.

His toast pops and he starts a little, blinking blearily at the slightly burnt bread as he pulls it out of the toaster with his thumb and forefinger. He spreads on the same raspberry jam and butter that he uses every morning and tries not to think of how bland it tastes in his mouth as he eats it standing at the counter. Another routine.

He tries not to look at last night’s dishes in the sink as he stacks his plate and silverware on top and doesn’t bother sorting out his hair before pulling on his sneakers and slipping out of his apartment. The sun hasn’t quite risen yet, only the beginning tendrils of light sneaking over the low tops of the DC buildings, and Steve vaguely regrets not grabbing a sweatshirt before he left. It’s not quite Summer yet and the mornings could still get pretty cool.

He’s about to take off down the street when he freezes. Natasha is sitting on the steps of his complex, wearing a pair of pink tinted sunglasses and tossing up and down the keys to her car. Steve blinks, rubs his eyes, then blinks again. Nope. She’s still there.

“Nat?”

Natasha looks up at him and smiles. “Hello.”

Steve shifts, uncomfortable. “Hi. You need something? Is there a mission?”

“No,” Natasha says lightly, standing. “You’re not running this morning, though. Come on, I’m taking you to Starbucks.”

“What?”

“Starbucks. You’re going to try it.”

“I don’t want--”

“Steve, you do the same thing every day. Step out of your comfort zone a little.”

Steve frowns, but Natasha’s right-- he really doesn’t ever stray from his routine.

“Fine,” he says, and twenty minutes later, they’re strolling into the nearest Starbucks.

He’s only been in one before, and that was to use the restroom while on a run. He’d bought a water bottle in an attempt to not be rude and use their facilities without giving them any business, but he hadn’t even considered the expansive menu. All the fancy names were too daunting.

They’re just as daunting now as he stares up at the board, heart hammering out of his chest as he’s faced with indecision. Natasha takes one look at his face, and reaches out to squeeze his arm.

“I’ll order something for you,” she says. “What kind of coffee do you like?”

Steve gives her a pained look. “Um… just coffee?”

Natasha quirks a smile and orders him something called a caramel macchiato. He’ll take it, he guesses.

The drink is too damn sweet and sugary and he almost gags. Still, he was always told to finish what he was given, so he drinks the whole thing.

To: Mr. Sweet Tooth

You’d fucking love it here. Everything is packed with sugar and sweetness-- enough to make even my teeth rot. I had something called a caramel macchiato today and it tasted like someone took your ma’s caramels and condensed them into a cup. I couldn’t stand it, but I know if you were here, you’d want at least twelve. I hope you’re enjoying all the sweets you can up in space.

Love, Mr. Boring

Steve’s fingers are stiff and frozen as he works at the straps of his stealth suit. The tangy taste of saltwater still sits heavy on his tongue, and he clenches his jaw to keep his teeth from chattering too harshly as he finally peels off his suit. It’s not much better, being naked, but at least the wet fabric isn’t clinging to him anymore.

The mission had been pretty straightforward until some alien tech managed to blast the quinjet to kingdom come, and they all free-fell straight into the freezing Atlantic.

Steve had managed to keep it together as they took down the goddamn mad scientist that fucked them over, but now that he’s home and alone, he can feel the adrenaline crashing.

He’s shaking from more than just the cold as he draws himself a warm bath, and he pulls his knees up to his chest, trying to breathe through the panic that wants to engulf his entire being.

He loses time for a bit, and comes back to himself lying in his bed, burrowed under several thick layers. He feels so cold, down to his very soul-- a chill that he can never seem to truly shake, even when he’s warm.

Not for the first time, he wishes Bucky were there to hold him. He slips off to sleep thinking old, comforting thoughts of Bucky rubbing his hands between his own, coaxing his head under his chin to engulf him in that natural warmth of his. He always was a fucking furnace.

But when Steve wakes an hour later, shaking hard enough to move the bed with the force of the nightmare he’d dropped into, Bucky is not there to soothe away the ice.

To: JB

im so cold and i cant breathe ever and nothing feels right. I dont know what to do, u were always the problem solver between us and i cant think straight right now and i just want you here please. I cant do this anymore, im so tired please come back. I need you please

The Winter Soldier file sits in front of Steve-- a horrifying nightmare wrapped up in a neat brown folder. Residual nausea swirls around in his gut as he comes down from the horrible high of reading through the contents. His hands shake where they grasp the thick paper. His heart clenches hard in his chest.

Bucky is alive. Bucky is alive, and he’s been unmade.

Steve doesn’t know where he is-- if he’s escaped, or if Hydra found him again. It’s been three weeks now since the helicarriers, and he’s only just gotten the courage to sit down and wade through the shit that is Bucky’s reality.

He just hopes he’s safe. God, he hopes.

Sam says he’ll help him look, and Steve needs to know he’s at least out of danger, but he barely knows where to start.

And he’s sorry. He’s so fucking sorry.

Blinking out of his reverie, Steve looks at his laptop. He feels strange and detached as he reaches for it and logs in.

To: Bucky

And yes, that feels right. He should use his name, since he suspects no one has for a long, long time.

I’m so sorry for what happened to you. I’m sorry that you’ve been hurting so quietly for so long. I understand if you’re not ready to come home-- I understand if you never are. I just hope that you know that there will always be a place with me that is safe. I love you so much and I’m here, forever and always.

Love, Steve.

He’s not naive. He knows it would be dangerous to submit that particular message, so he doesn’t. But that’s okay. That one’s just for him-- for them.

“Steve? What is the… Unsent Project?”

Steve frowns and pokes his head out of the kitchen. Bucky is sitting on the couch in the living room, using his laptop, because his own is having storage issues.

Bucky looks at him. “It’s one of your saved tabs. What is it?”

And oh, fuck. Steve had forgotten to remove that from his homepage-- it really wasn’t needed anymore. He blushes all the way to his ears.

“Oh, it’s-- nothing. Not anything important--”

But Bucky has already clicked on the tab.

“The Unsent Project,” he reads aloud. “A collection of unsent text messages to… first… loves…”

He trails off as he processes what he’s looking at, and Steve can’t quite read his expression when he looks at him again. His eyebrows are furrowed, and he’s looking at Steve like he’s some sort of kicked puppy. Steve shifts, uncomfortable.

“Were you sending me… messages? While I was dead?”

Steve swallows. “Um…” and now that Bucky says it out loud, it really does sound quite sad. He shrugs. “It’s Natasha’s fault?”

Bucky shakes his head, clicking on the search bar. He starts to type his name, but Steve shakes his head.

“I didn’t use your name.”

“Oh,” Bucky says, then frowns at him again. “What did you use?”

Steve blushes harder, sitting next to Bucky and taking the laptop from him.

“Um…” he hesitates, then types what he was sure he used as his first alias.

My astronaut

The screen buffers and loads, then fifty or so messages pop up. Steve scrolls down-- it doesn’t take long to find his.

They’re both quiet as they read, and Steve cringes. Jeez, he really had been pretty dramatic. Next to him, Bucky makes a hurt noise.

“Oh, honey,” he murmurs, taking the laptop back from Steve. He reads the message again, then once more, and reaches out for Steve. “Aw, I’m here now.”

Steve huffs, embarrassed. “I know,” he says. “That was way back, like, three weeks after I woke up.”

Bucky stills. “You fought aliens three weeks after you woke up?”

“... More like two.”

Bucky hums. “Are there others?”

“Yeah,” Steve says, reaching out to type on Bucky’s lap, because Bucky is holding him now and he’s quite reluctant to move. He thinks for a moment, then types in the next one he remembers.

Mr. Sweet Tooth

Bucky laughs, and Steve finds himself smiling.

“I find this funny,” Bucky says. “Because caramel macchiatos are definitely one of my favorites now.”

Steve laughs, too, and butts his head against Bucky’s shoulder.

“If only I could tell that to myself back then-- he’d be thrilled.”

“I’m sure,” Bucky says. “Any more?”

Steve hesitates, thinking of the one he’d sent after that nightmare-- when he was low and hurting. Incoherent. He isn’t sure he wants Bucky to see that particular side of his soul, but Bucky has been more than generous in letting him in on his pains nowaday, and it’s not like Bucky hasn’t witnessed Steve’s own current nightmares.

He bites his lip and types in JB. That seems to yield a lot more results, and it takes a while for Steve to find the message.

He hides his face in Bucky’s neck as he reads. Bucky’s arms gradually tighten around him, and a moment later, he feels him kiss the top of his head.

“Honey, I hate that you were hurting so bad,” Bucky mutters against his hair.

Steve shrugs. “We both were,” he says, and it’s true. There’s something to be said about the guilt they both feel for not being able to save the other person at their lowest, but life hasn’t been kind to them. The vitriol, Steve thinks, should be directed at the goddamn universe for keeping them apart, not themselves for fucking dying. They’re working on it.

Bucky’s quiet for a long time. “Yeah, I guess you’re right,” he says. “Is that it?”

Steve shakes his head. “But I never sent the last one.”

“Why not?”

“I wrote it after DC.”

He feels Bucky squeeze him again, and he squeezes back.

“Oh.”

“I just-- I wanted you to know that you didn’t have to come home. That I just wanted you to be safe; needed to know you were safe, but it was up to you. I just needed you to know I was here, if you needed me.”

Bucky pulls back then and cups his face, kissing him soundly. Steve’s surprised for only a moment before he’s kissing back.

“I did know that,” Bucky says against his lips. “I needed time-- I was lost-- but the first thing I knew when I remembered who you were was that you were a safe person, because you’d never force me anywhere.”

Steve kisses him again, then pulls him into a hug. “I’m glad you knew that.” It’s warm, where their chests meet, and Bucky is solid beneath him. Real. He isn’t speaking into an abyss anymore.

There’s a sticky note on Bucky’s pillow next to his head when he wakes up the next morning. Steve’s side of the bed is already vacant, and he can’t hear him downstairs. He must have already left for a run.

Propping himself on an elbow, Bucky plucks up the sticky note.

To: My Bucky

Thank you for choosing me to be your home, and thank you forever, for being mine.

I love you with everything I have.

Love, your Steve

Bucky smiles, heart light as he folds the notes. He’ll keep that one with him, he thinks. A little bit of home to bring wherever he goes.

anyway yeah fslkjflaskjfls i-- ouch. anything to do with letters w these two hurts me immensely

#i did not proofread this at all so i just kNOW im going to read this back later and find a whole bunch of typos oops #stucky #stucky fic #steve rogers #bucky barnes #idiots in love #sad stevie aw

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