#i think i should just try to get a binder or something. just see how that works for me | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

sweetimpurity · 3 months

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"I Shouldn't Have Said It, But I Mean It"

Sub!MiguelxDom!Fem!Reader 6.6k words

Smut with a little fluff <3

“So, you were doing it mostly right… you just have to simplify it before you use the theorem…” Miguel explains and you nod your head. But you are distracted looking at the side of his face. How his glasses sit on the bridge of his nose and his eyes occasionally dart to you as he can feel you staring at him. A slight blush on his cheeks and a certain huskiness to his voice.

He’s been helping you with your homework for a while now. It used to be once or twice a week. You’d tell him to come to your dorm and he’d say yes every time. He’d help you finish your homework and in return you’d suck him off or let him eat you out or bounce on his dick for a while. Sure he was a brainiac but he was super hot and he did whatever you wanted him to do. And he was a big guy in every way. Every. Way. So it was a win win.

“So, you wanna try the next one?” He asks softly and holds out the pencil for you. Bringing you out of your thoughts and your attention to the work in front of you. “Sure.” You sigh and take the pencil from him, brushing your fingertips over his knuckles, looking down at the math problem in front of you and solving it. He watches you type into the calculator to get the different solutions, glancing at your hair and your hands as you work. You’re the prettiest girl he’s ever seen and he tells you that when he can work up the courage.

If you didn't already have a boyfriend and if your boyfriend wasn’t the biggest asshole who ever walked the planet… then maybe Miguel would have already worked up the courage to ask to be your boyfriend, seeing as you’ve spent countless nights with him whimpering into your hair as you milked him of every last drop. That’s all he wants is to be your boyfriend, spend time with you and make you happy.

“Done!” You chirp and turn your head to him. He backs up a bit, realizing how close he was leaning into you and smiling. That damn smile that makes you want to bite his lips and swallow every moan you can pull from his throat. “Oh- g- yeah good…” He blushes and pushes his glasses further up his nose. He still gets so nervous around you even though he’s been balls deep in you more times than you can remember by now. You think it’s because sex isn’t something he ever asks you for. You just give it to him when you feel like it. And you feel like it a lot. “Can I check it?” He asks softly and reaches across to accept the paper as you slide it across your desk. You smile wickedly, thinking of all the things you want to do to him right now. The things that he always so graciously and gratefully accepts.

He clears his throat and starts checking over your work. Silence falls over the both of you as you gaze at the side of him. Now you’re watching his fingers, his thick fingers, typing gently into the calculator and nodding his head when he sees you’ve done it all correctly. “Looks good to me…” He says lightly and nods his head. You can tell he’s getting a little nervous. But not in a bad way. More like in a “he knows the look you’re giving him and he knows what follows” way. The kind of anticipation that makes him hold his breath anytime you look at him.

“Thank you for helping me…” You hum and smile at him sweetly. He looks at you and smiles bashfully. “I don’t even think you need my help anymore… you sorta have this stuff down…” He chuckles and turns to you more, placing the pencil down on the desk. It’s true. You don’t really need his help anymore as he managed to help you bring your grade up. But you like having him around… and his cock makes you happier than any A+.

“What should we do next?” He asks innocently and starts sorting through your binder. You don’t answer, you just keep looking at him, wanting to sink your teeth into his shoulder as he begs you to give him a break. “Uh… maybe Chemistry?” He suggests and grabs your binder and your textbook. You watch him flip to the chapter he knows your class is on now. He’s not even in your class and he knows that you guys are up to Chapter 15. He looks over the work you were assigned and skims the page in the book before starting to explain it to you. “So, this is pretty easy once you’ve done a few of them. What you wanna do is y-” And you cut him off by kissing his cheek. He releases a breathy, pent up laugh from his chest and adjusts his glasses again. “What do I wanna do?” You hum close to his ear and you hear another breath released from his chest. He turns his head to look at you but you gently force his head to look straight forward. “Don’t look at me…” You kiss his cheek once more and lay your hand on his chest. “Look at the book and explain it to me…” His cheeks redden at your actions and he’s holding his breath at this point. “I want to understand…” You whisper in his ear. Waiting for him to continue. “Um… so the way you do it.. is… um…” It’s hard for him to focus when you start ghosting your lips over his cheek and kissing his neck.

“C’mon Miguel, you gotta do better than that…” You mumble and stop kissing him. Seeing him grip the pencil hard and fidget with the edge of the page in your textbook. “Uh…”’ He chuckles nervously and lifts his hand to the back of his neck. You take the opportunity to get up off your seat, grab his shoulders and swing your leg over his lap, straddling him. His breath instantly gets heavier and you can see his chest expanding. His needy hands go to your hips but you grab his wrists before he reaches your ass. With a dark look in your eyes you lift his hands off of you and place them on the desk behind you. “Focus, Miguel.” You tease him and adjust yourself on his lap, pulling yourself further up on his thighs. You lean in and kiss his neck once more, sucking marks into his skin. At the feeling of you giving him hickeys, his lips part in a gasp and his hand comes to your back instinctively. So you stop, pulling away from him and shaking your head gently. “Hands off…” You whisper and he has a sort of pleading lust in his eyes. With just the raise of your eyebrow he takes his hand off of you, balling it into a fist and placing it back on the desk.

“Y/N…” He breathes out and you leave kisses on his throat, making his breath get caught. You roll your hips slowly over him, feeling his dick already hard for you. Pressing up against your clothed sex. It makes him shudder. “Oh my god…” He sighs, practically in agony as you roll your hips with more purpose, smiling against his cheeks as you hold his head in your hands, grasping at his hair as you kiss his skin. Your hand moves down between your two bodies and you palm him through his jeans. He flinches and jolts forward, pushing you back with him. A sharp shaking breath leaving his throat as his hands come up to your back, grasping tightly at the material of your shirt.

“Miguel…” You tut and pull away from him. He squeezes his hands in the material on your back, looking up at you and sighing. “Sorry… I-I can’t…” He whispers and you think to yourself for a few moments. He can tell the gears are turning in your head so he tries to think fast. “I’ll try… just don’t stop… please” He says and pries his hands from you, laying his fists on the desk once more. Hearing him say ‘please’ brings a smile to your face and you caress the back of his neck, finally bringing your lips to his. He hums into your mouth and accepts your tongue. His knuckles turn white as he squeezes his fists tight. Both of your hands run through his hair as you torturously lift your hips and push them down on the tent in his pants. Earning a whine from his throat and into your mouth. You pull away and give him air, brushing some fallen hair out of his face as he pants. His cheeks red and his glasses all crooked on his face. He looks absolutely adorable.

His hands come to your back once more and you pull away. “Do you want me to tie you to this chair?” You ask low and soft as you pull away and he immediately removes his hands and places them back on the desk behind you like you commanded. And he holds his breath again, knowing what this means for the next few hours of his life. “I can do it… I’ll keep my hands off, whatever you want.” He breathes out and nods to you. You shake your head. “Do you want me to tie you to the chair, yes or no?” You repeat and raise your eyebrows at him. Your voice is still sweet, and he knows you’re not doing this to hurt him. At least not any injury that can’t be cured with pumping you full of his cum. “Yes.. I don’t know… do you want to?” He asks, his voice all husky. His leg bouncing slightly at the pressure in his pants. “No…” You hum as your brow furrows, looking over his shoulder at the rest of your dorm room. “I wanna tie you to the bed…” You say and he can’t help but roll his hips up to you. Trying to release some of the tension, his dick screaming at him to be inside you right now. Your eyes widen when you bob up and then down on his lap. “Would you like that, big boy?” You ask him, leaning in close to his lips. “Yes…” He whispers and his hands flex behind you. He’s trying so hard.

“Good…” You hum and get up off his lap. He huffs out the breath he was holding and almost keels over at how painfully hard he is right now. He manages to stand up, resisting the urge to palm himself over his pants. Knowing you wouldn’t like for him to do that.

You go to your closet and find a scarf that you never wear and a pair of tights that you also never wear. He watches you place them on the bed and get up onto the blankets, crawling over to him as he stands near the edge. You kneel on your bed, a little bit closer to eye level with him and bring your hands to the hem of his shirt. Looking in his eyes for approval. He nods his head eagerly and helps you lift it off. His chest, his perfect lean torso, and tiny waist being revealed to you. Every time you see him naked it’s like the first time all over again. You can never quite get over how perfect his body really is. You smile and bite your lip, moving to undo his jeans and he pulls them down for you. His arousal is clear to you once you see the bulge in his boxers. And again, his hands are clenched into fists at his sides. “Now me…” You say and his eyes brighten looking up at you. You usually take your own clothes off since you’re the one that’s always in control. But he’s being good.

“Really?” He smiles and steps closer to the bed, his big hands coming to your hips and moving up to your shirt. You look up at him sweetly when he looks in your eyes to double check that you’re serious. He lifts up your shirt and you help him get it off. Already not wearing a bra underneath and his eyes roam your naked chest. He takes a deep shaky breath and starts to pull off your sweatpants, your panties coming down with them and you lift your knees to pull them off completely. He stares in awe at your body, his hands on your back moving down to your ass as he drinks you in. He looks in your eyes, breathing heavy, needy. “Please…” He breathes out and pulls you a little closer to him. “Please what? What do you wanna do?” You hum, trying to get him worked up, running your fingers up his arms. “I wanna kiss you…” He says almost impatiently, looking in your eyes and pleading. “You wanna kiss me where?” You tease him and a frustrated sigh leaves his lips. His big hands running down your lower back, to your ass and squeezing. “I… I wanna kiss your tits…and your neck…” He whispers. You smile at him, a little proud of him for using his words.

“Okay…” You allow him and immediately he’s on you. His mouth attacks your neck and your shoulder like a starved man. He pulls you into him and leans over you, making your back arch with his hands as he leans down to suck on your breasts. Taking your tits into his mouth and you can feel the vibrations of his hums and moans against your skin. Lapping, licking, and kissing so desperately. Gasping for air all the while. Your hands go to his hair and you can’t help but moan. “Oh!...” The sound escapes your mouth and he breathes hot and heavy against your chest. Feeling like he might cum right now knowing he just made you moan.

He moves up to your neck, savoring his chance to kiss you and hold you. You reach down to the makeshift binds at your ankle. “C’mon Miguel…” You hum and he looks up, seeing the binds and knowing it’s time. You urge him to get on the bed and he holds you tighter. “Please, just… I need more…” He breathes out desperately and his hands splay out onto your back. “You’ll get more, but you need to be patient.” You smile almost too sweetly, knowing exactly what you’re doing to him. “Okay…” He sighs and pulls his hands off of your skin, starting to get on the bed. “Ah. But you need to take those off first” You stop him and gesture to his boxers. His dick basically busting out at the seams at this point. “Right.” He nods and looks at the floor as he takes his boxers off and lets them pool at his feet. Your eyes move from his face to his cock. Seeing his frustration in the veins and red hue that decorates his sun kissed skin. You smile at him and bite your tongue, tilting your head and silently gesturing for him to get on the bed now. He obeys your instruction and climbs up, moving the pillows so he can sit against the headboard. He knows exactly how you like him to be.

He sits against the headboard and you crawl over to him, your legs straddling his thighs as you reach to both of his hands and bind them to the brass headboard. This bed was almost made for tying him up. You smile at him once you’ve finished and he looks at you with a weak, weary expression. Situating yourself over him, your tummy presses his dick to his stomach, putting on more pressure that he didn’t need. Pressure that’s not helping him cum, just making this all harder for him to bear. “Are you okay?” You ask softly, resting your hands on his chest and watching him in his struggle. You do care about him after all.

“Y-yes.. I’m…I just need you…” Miguel admits with heavy breath. “You have me… I’m here” You reassure him and kiss his cheeks. Feeling his breathing slow down just a little bit. And now you’re not so worried about him passing out or something. “But I need you to do something for me first.” You say low and deep. “Yeah?” He asks and opens his eyes. “I need you to finger me.” You breathe out and nod to him. His eyes widen and shine and he immediately nods back, holding his breath again as you move to release the bind on his right arm. “You need me to… do that?” He asks with a nervous smile, hoping you’re serious and this isn’t some cruel joke. “Well I can’t take you all by myself… Need a little helping to take you, baby…” You hum in his ear and he melts at your words and the sound of your voice. Once his hand is released he brings it to your heat slowly, cupping you as your body jolts. Looking you in the eyes as he does it, wanting to do it right.

He presses the pad of his thumb to your clit and applies some pressure, circling his two fingers around your entrance. Hoping this isn’t a dream he’s going to wake up from. “Miguel…” You moan his name erotically in encouragement and he plunges the two digits inside you, causing you to hiss, biting down hard on your bottom lip. Sounds of satisfaction vibrate in your chest as he pumps his fingers in and out, trying to feel the inside of your warm walls with the pads of his fingers. His bound hand squirms as his right hand works to stretch you out. “Does that feel good?” He pants and keeps pumping his fingers within your tight, hot walls as best he can, his thumb working on your clit, of which you’re always impressed with his ability to find. Tilting his head so he can see your face through his glasses which are once again crooked on his face. “Mm…yes… so good… faster…” You pant and roll your hips into his hand. His long, thick fingers massaging the warmth of your cunt. He tries to move faster, leaning up more and using his shoulder to pump his fingers inside you as hard as he can. He really wants to kiss you. But you’re leaning just far enough away that he can’t reach. Your hands pushing on his chest as you feel your orgasm approaching. “Miggy, you’re gonna m- make me…” You squeal and gasp. Your arms wrap around his shoulders, pulling him closer to you and he finally gets to plant his lips on your skin. Ravishing your neck with his tongue and his lips as he keeps pumping you, feeling your walls squeezing around his fingers. He’s close to cumming himself even though you haven’t even touched his dick yet.

“Mmm-ah!” You gasp and your back arches, press your stomach against his, putting more pressure on his aching dick as you gush on his fingers. His cock is squeezed between both of your stomachs as he whimpers loud and cums hard. His seed glistening between your soft tummy and his toned abdomen as you finally lean back from him. “Oh fuck…” You breathe out and catch your breath. His head is leaned against the headboard, his hand leaving your warmth and coming up to hold your thigh, stroking your skin softly with your slick still on his fingers. Trying to regain the breath you’ve taken from him.

You smile and lean forward to kiss his lips. He grins lazily and already looks so fucked out by now. You haven’t even touched him and he already came. He came while he was touching you. Reaching over, you take his hand off your thigh, tying it back up to the headboard tight enough to keep him there but not so tight that it hurts. He sighs deeply and watches you do it. His arms now spread and bound again as you spread yourself over his dick.

“Couldn’t wait, Mig?” You tease him and look down at the cum on your stomach. “I- sorry… you’re so pretty…” He breathes out and you smile, his face flushed, his body almost shaking. “It’s okay… now I just need you to hold it until I say, okay?” You say with an evil sweetness, running your soft hands over his flushed cheeks. Your fingers go up to the arms on his glasses, fixing them on his face. “Do you want me to take these off?” You ask him and start pulling his glasses off his face. His eyes blinking and squinting slightly as he tries to focus his vision on you but you’re too close up. “Can I leave them on?” He asks innocently, his breath still heavy. You figured he’d want them off to be more comfortable but maybe not. “You want to keep them on?” You giggle and put them back on. “Yeah… so I can.. see your face…” He confesses and you watch his eyes as they come back into focus and look over your face lovingly.

“Are you ready, Miggy?” You ask him sweetly and stroke his dick in your hand, lubing it up with a mix of his cum and your slick. He shutters and his hands squirm in the binds, flexing and balling up into fists. “Yes… please I- I’m-“ He stutters and in one motion you lift yourself up and slide yourself down on his aching cock. Even with the stretch from his fingers, his size still splits you open. His head falls forward, mouth agape and his stomach muscles tense and relax over and over as you accept the whole of him. Sinking yourself down to his base and staying there. Your hands move to his thighs behind your ass and you wiggle your hips slightly. Helping yourself to adjust to his thickness before moving forward. His head pulls up to watch you as your head throws back, watching your breasts and the small ripples that spread across your soft supple body as you move. His eyes scan your pretty face as your jaw falls open. Feeling a swell of pride in his chest knowing he’s making you feel this way. His eyes move down to where your bodies connect. Watching your body swallow him whole. Willing himself not to cum again so soon.

“Tell me if you’re gonna cum, okay?” You moan and lay your hands on his shoulders. “O-okay…” He grits out, desperate not to cum right now. Not wanting to disappoint you. “Breathe with me” You whisper and wrap your arms tight around the back of his neck, face to face with him. Your mouth opens as you urge him to take deep breaths. He looks in your eyes, his low-lidded eyes glossed over. He tries his best, takes in a deep breath and as he does you lift your hips, dragging his cock through your tight walls, making the breath he takes get caught and strangled in his throat. As he’s forced to breathe out you push your hips down on him once more. His tip going deep inside you, pushing up against your cervix, feeling him almost painfully deep in your guts. At this his breath is morphed into a moan, an urgent and desperate moan. “Y/N… oh- oh my god-“ He whimpers and his eyes shut tight. “So sensitive, Miggy…” You smile and kiss his cheeks as you start moving your hips as a consistent rhythm. Up and down, back and forth, wiggling your hips as you squish his big dick into you over and over. His hands fight against the binds and his knees pull up slightly in reaction. A moaning mess with a sheen of sweat on his broad chest.

“Y/N… Y/N… oh my god- oh m- oh fuck” He moans and squirms. His voice becomes more hoarse and cracks every time you squish your pussy down onto his sensitivity. Rasping out cries of your name, how perfect you are, how beautiful you are, how much he needs you. He watches your greedy pussy drink him up and listens to you moaning like the porn he watches while he’s thinking of you. “I-I’m.. I’m gonna cum- Y/N!” He whimpers urgently and his arms are shaking, his hands clenched into fists in the binds and his chest heaving. “Hold it, Miguel… hold it for me” You moan as you bob on his cock. The air of sex and the mix of your moans and his pleads filling the air. “I’m gonna- I-“ He pants and you stop moving. Halting your hips and rubbing your hands over his chest. “Shhh… hold it for me… you can do it…” You hum sweetly and kiss his red flushed chest. “Okay…” He whispers and you kiss his cheek. Starting to move your hips once more, slower this time, letting yourself feel every inch of him pulsing through your heat.

He closes his eyes tight, hoping that maybe if he’s not looking at you he can hold out for longer. He purses his lips together, trying to hold back everything. Trying to think of all the ways he can hold back so he can hold it for you. You roll your pussy on his aching, pulsing dick and moan loudly, sending shivers down his spine. “Look at me…” You whisper and hold his face in your hands, bouncing on his cock and squeezing him so perfectly. “Miguel, look at me…” You repeat and kiss his lips. “Open your eyes…”

You watch his pretty brown eyes flutter open, glossed and glazed over. Completely fucked. “I can’t look at you… I can’t…It’s too much…” He whispers and tries to close his eyes again, letting them flutter. “You have to..” You whine and pout, wrapping your hand around the back of his neck, tangling your fingers in his hair. “Y/N, I’m gonna cum, I can’t…” He whimpers and pulls on the binds that restrain him. “Please Y/N… please… I n- I need to…” He pants and begs you. His hips rolling up into you to meet your movements. His dick twitching and throbbing inside you. Needing release.

“Shhh… breathe… breathe for me…” You smile against his cheek and kiss him. “I can’t!” He rasps and groans. “You can.” You assure him and slow down your hips, making him hiss and protest. “Don’t stop! Don’t stop, please don’t stop!” He begs and bucks his hips up. His teeth clenched and bared as he exerts himself in frustration and need.

“Please please please!” He whispers and you’re about to soothe him but your phone starts vibrating and ringing loudly on the bedside table. It draws your attention but he’s too much of a mess to even hear it right now. You flip over your phone, not even looking at who’s calling and press decline

“Miggy…” You start to say softly and run the backs of your hands over the sides of his face. Him leaning his head into your touch. And your phone rings again. Bzzt. Bzzt. Bzzzzt. On the bedside table. A little annoyed, you do the same thing. Press decline without even seeing who’s calling because you don’t really care right now.

“Just a little longer Mig-“ And the phone rings again immediately after you decline it. “Oh my fucking god.” You groan and grab your phone. Miguel is still a shaking mess beneath you. You sigh and look at who’s calling so many times. It’s your boyfriend.

“Please don’t stop please don’t stop” Miguel breathes out and he’s chasing the high that’s slowly dying down. You start moving over him again slowly, earning a deep moan the depths of his chest.

You answer the call and put the phone up to your ear. Immediately met with a lot of noise on the other end. He must be out drinking with his friends again. “Fucking bitch, why don’t you answer the fucking phone?!” He slurs and yells in your ear. “Excuse me?” You’re immediately angry with his tone and his choice of words. You hate when he’s drunk, he’s always such a dick and he’s been going out every night lately. Some nights he doesn’t come home and you know he’s cheating on you. But you’re cheating on him too.

“I know you pressed the fucking decline! You don’t decline my calls when I’m calling you, you fucking pick up!” He yells into the phone and you roll your eyes, moving your hips faster and harder over Miguel’s weeping dick as he fights the binds on his wrists. A hoarse whimper escapes him and you clasp your hand over his mouth. His glossy eyes shoot open and he stares in your eyes. And you slam your hips down on him hard. Watching his eyes roll back as his moans are muffled into your palm. You bite your bottom lip and smile deviously as him.

“Hello??!” Your boyfriend's loud obnoxious voice rings out through the phone and your smile turns to a scowl. “What?” You ask sharply into the phone, listening to Miguel moans humming through the prison of your fingers and his heavy breathing through his nose. “Is there a reason you called me?!” You raise your voice a bit. And your boyfriend is silent on the other end for a while. “Just wanted to let you know that I’m having a great night and if you weren’t so boring you could be having a great night too… and I’m wasted… and just so you know I could get any bitch in this club right now if I wanted to.” He rants loudly into the phone. “Wow, great, thank you for letting me know.” You say sarcastically and your brow furrows. But what he says really bothers you actually. You hate when he’s like this and he gets in your head. Miguel can’t hear what your boyfriend is shouting about but he can see how you’re reacting and he doesn’t like it.

“Fuckin’ whatever…” Your boyfriend scoffs and slurs drunkenly. Abruptly hanging up the phone. You lower your phone from your ear, turning off the screen and angrily slam it down on the bedside table. Taking your hand off of Miguel’s mouth, you slap it to his chest and use it at leverage as you pump your pussy down on his dick. And Miguel gasps for breath.

“C-can… can I cum?” He begs with his teeth bared and his brow creased, his glasses still crooked and too fucking adorable. Way too adorable. “No.” You say sternly and you didn’t mean to say it in such a harsh way. But you’re pissed off right now. Feeling bad about yourself. You fucking hate your boyfriend so much, why do you even stay with him? Is it because you think you really don’t deserve to be treated any better?

You slow your hips to a halt and he whines in protest. “Nooo… no please” He whines softly, panting and trying to catch his breath. You look at his face… and his stupid adorable crooked glasses and you just feel awful inside. All you know is you need Miguel. You need him because he’s the only person who’s always there for you. When you need help with your homework, when there’s a spider on your ceiling, when you’re too scared to go down to the laundry room at night by yourself.

“Are you okay?” Miguel asks softly. His body is still now as his attention is on you. “I’m okay…” You lie and nod to him, resting your hands on his chest, feeling his heart beating under your fingertips. “Are you sure?” He tilts his head and asks, trying to look at your face.

“I wanna try something new.” You suddenly say, feeling tender and needing to be soft. Soft for him. Soft for yourself. “Okay… whatever you want…” He says sweetly. So sweetly it just adds a little more to your frustration. You frown a bit and look up at him in his eyes. Looking at his chest and his neck covered in marks, his perfect face.

“I’m gonna untie you… and you’re gonna fuck me. You think you can do that?” Your eyes darken and he swallows thickly. And you can feel the pressure building inside you as his dick comes alive again. Your brow creases in desperation and it’s the first time he’s ever seen it. Both of your hands go to the binds and take them off as fast as you can. “I need you to fuck me, Miguel, please” You grab his face in your hands and press your cheek to his. “Please Miguel!” You whimper and beg him. And he can’t believe this is actually happening. “Okay… I will” He whispers, his chest already heaving again and he wraps his arms around your back, squeezing your flesh. He runs his hungry hands up to your shoulder blades and down to your ass, squeezing pleasantly and pushing you backwards with his body. As he leans you back your arms wrap around the back of his neck and your legs around his waist. He pushes you back and supports you as you lay down on the other end of the bed. His mouth coming down on your neck and your chest as you rub his back. Feeling angry. Feeling bad. Needing him. He makes you feel good.

He pulls off his glasses and places them on the bed and out of the way. Dipping his face into the crook of your neck. Kissing your skin, inhaling your scent, absorbing your heat, listening to the soft moans that escape your throat. “Miguel!” You practically sob his name, fingers digging into his back as you feel his cock pressing against your thigh. Needy to be inside you again. “I know, I got you…” He hums and kisses down your chest. He knows you better than to know you’re okay. He hates your boyfriend for being able to affect your mood so strongly and so quickly. Miguel would never question why you’re still with him, as he knows the answer is not a simple one. So he’s just thankful for the time he gets to spend with you and avoids your boyfriend in the hallways.

“Okay, okay, it’s okay…” He whispers as your hands run through his hair and down the sides of his face. He positions himself at your entrance and slowly starts pushing in. Capturing your lips in a searing kiss. With his thighs pushing your legs to spread wider, he presses himself deep inside you, shuddering at the feeling. You cry out loudly for him, your hands, one on his bicep and the other on the back of his neck, holding him so close to you. He bottoms out and kisses your neck and your collarbone. Basking in his own little sliver of heaven. One of his big hands comes to cradle your head, holding you like you’re the most precious thing in the world. And you are, to him. His face falls to the crook of your neck, breathing hot into your hair as he holds you. His chest pressing down, weighing on top of you, grounding you as he thrusts into you hard and fast. Pumping into you with all the pent up tension he’s been holding for you. You’re both so sensitive already so it doesn’t take long for that familiar blooming feeling to burn in your thighs, blossoming its way up to your stomach. You clutch onto him, your legs wrapping around his waist and rubbing your thighs over the sides of his hips as he thrusts into you. You squeal and gasp at the rush.

“With me… please Miguel… oh fuck-” You beg him to release. Give you all of himself. Giving him permission. With the last final pushes he slowly stops as your cunt contracts and squeezes him. Your orgasm rips through you like fangs in flesh. He holds you so tight as he finally lets go, pumping you raw and full of him. Moaning your name into your neck before he rasps out:

“I love you… I-I love you, Y/N”

As you come down from the high and you hear his words, your eyes flutter open. Did he really just say that? You feel him tense around you. Realizing his mistake and he loosens his grip, pulling away from you slowly. “Sorry… sorry Y/N…” He mumbles and looks at your face worried. Pulling out of you slowly and sitting up more, looking for his glasses on the bed. Once his hands touch them he puts his glasses on as fast as he can, looking at your face. Seeing your eyes a little wide and your eyebrows raised. He’s not quite sure how to read your face right now. “I’m really sorry, Y/N, I shouldn’t have said that… I didn’t mean that…” He runs a hand through his hair, anxious that he’s ruined everything. He’s pushed you away. “Which is it?” You sit up and ask him, face to face now. “What?” He asks and his eyes tell you all that he’s thinking right now. “Should you not have said it or did you not mean it?” You ask so softly. And your voice to him is like a warm safe blanket he wants to wrap himself in. He looks in your eyes and works up the courage to say what he feels. “I shouldn’t have said it… but I mean it.” He sighs and he’s sure this is the last time he’ll ever be this close to you again.

You stare at him in silence, not knowing what to say. He sighs and dips his head down, his shoulders slumping, his head in his hands. So you lay your head upon his shoulder and wrap your arms around him tight. It takes him a second to realize what’s happening. But he doesn’t question it and he wraps his arms around your waist.

“You don’t have to say it back.” He mumbles into your hair. And you can hear how hard it is for him to say that to you. “I love you too…” You sigh into the crook of his neck and hold him close. You can almost hear the flutters in his chest when you say that to him. His arms tighten around you and wrap you up in the warmest, safest embrace. “I love you” He says again into your hair and you can hear the smile in his voice. It feels like a weight has been listed off of his chest now that he’s finally said that to you. You’re done with your boyfriend. You’re done letting yourself let yourself be mistreated. You love Miguel and he makes you happy. So you have to stop shying away from the way you feel about him for fear of messing things up or getting hurt. You don’t think Miguel could hurt you if he wanted to. “I love you” You repeat in reply and you feel yourself smiling too.

“Please will you stay the night?” You ask softly into his neck and a soft laugh rumbles in his chest, a laugh of relief and pure happiness. “Of course. I’ll always stay. Whatever you want. Whatever you need.” He says softly and you think he’s almost too good to be true. You look forward to the future with Miguel, making love with Miguel and letting him love you freely while you let yourself love him with no restraint. Still, he’ll never pass up the opportunity for you to tie him up.

#miguel ohara #miguel o'hara x reader #miguel ohara smut #smut #miguel #miguel spiderverse

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bradshawssugarbaby · 4 months

Text

Picture Perfect - Smallville!Clark Kent x Reader

A/N: Inspired by the song Picture Perfect by Angela Via. pairing: Smallville!Clark Kent x f! reader warnings/content: fluff, mutual pining, one singular swear word. word count: 2.2k

I should be yours, baby, you should be mine. Meant to be, can’t you see? We’re picture perfect”

Clark watched as you chewed on the end of your pen absent-mindedly as you glanced over the notes in your binder, written in your vibrantly feminine script, large and looping letters forming your thoughts on the page, written in your favourite pink gel pen, as you always did. He couldn’t help but smirk at how even your notes looked like they were transcribed by Barbie herself, but as silly as the thought of media law scrawled out in pink glittering ink in your flourished handwriting was, he loved that about you. He loved that your bubblingly bright personality had its way of working itself into every aspect of your life, including your studying methods.

His piercing Kryptonian blue eyes continued to stare over at you, fixated on the way your hand gracefully glided across the page as you wrote, your fingers curled just so around your pen. He was fascinated by the way you could make even the most simple of tasks, like holding a pen, appear elegant. He knew he had it bad for you, he had for as long as he could remember, since you met. His friends would often tease him about diving in head first when he fell in love, and he tried to work on it in an effort to protect himself from getting hurt, but with you, he knew it was useless. He may not have had many weaknesses, but you were one of the few things that could stop him dead in his tracks.

“Clark? You ok?”

You had looked up from your notes to see Clark seemingly staring off into space at you, unable to break his focus from his thoughts. He chuckled nervously before pointing at his open text book on the table and nodding his head.

“Yeah, I’m fine!” He said, trying to sound confident and hide his embarrassment as she caught him staring.

You tossed your textbook closed and shoved it across the table in front of you with a tired laugh. Straightening your ponytail, you let out an exasperated sigh before rubbing your hand inbetween your thumb and index finger.

“I’m starving, and my hand is cramped up, ready to go grab something to eat? I think if I have to read anymore of this I might implode,” you laughed, shaking your head as you stood up from your seat.

“Yeah, yeah I could go for something to eat. Pizza?” Clark laughed softly, raising an eyebrow as he followed behind you.

He tried to keep his gaze upwards, focusing on anything but your backside as you walked in front of him out of the library. He had to congratulate himself on his willpower - resisting the urge for his eyes to drift downwards, tracing the shape of your curves as you walked. He caught up beside you, chuckling as he pretended to jog up beside you. If anything, it was harder work to pretend he couldn’t keep up with your strides than it was to actually jog, he could run from Kansas to California in a matter of seconds. In fact, he’d often thought about doing just that. He’d worked so hard to keep his secret from everyone, including you, as much as he hated hiding things from you. He loved you, and he trusted you, but he was terrified of how you’d respond. Would you be afraid of him? Would you stop speaking to him? Would you think he was crazy and tell everyone he’d gone insane? The more he’d thought about telling you, the more he realized he’d rather continue the facade he’d created than have any chance of losing you. Having you in his life and not knowing the truth about him was better than telling you and not having you there at all.

“Clark, are you sure you’re ok? You keep spacing out on me.”

Your laughter rang out through Clark’s ears - he could easily list it in his top favorite sounds, second only to the way his name sound when it fell from your lips, making it sound like an answered prayer every time you said it. Clark had it bad for you, and he knew that if he continued to hold it in, it’d end up forcing you away, but he’d been through this before with friends, and it rarely ended in his favor. The last thing he wanted was to push you away, either due to him revealing his true feelings, revealing his secret or by continuing to ignore how he felt for you. His own happiness aside, he knew ignoring his long-standing feelings towards you was the easiest solution. He ran a hand through his thick dark hair for a moment and chuckled awkwardly, his piercingly bright blue eyes glancing over at you as he spoke.

“I’m fine, I promise. Just thinking,” He said, trying his best to be reassuring but he couldn’t help but think he was failing miserably at it.

“Oh, that’s what that smell is?” You teased, giving Clark a playful shove of the shoulder as you spoke.

Clark rolled his eyes and gave you one of his infamous smirks, the kind that had most girls you knew weak in the knees. Clark had often been told he had a nice smile, but he was also oblivious when women found him attractive. Half of the time he had no idea when someone was flirting with him, and the other half of the time, he didn’t know how to respond to or reciprocate the flirting. The best he could do was flash a sweet, charming smile someone’s way and be his usual kind-hearted self, which was how he liked it best. He hated the idea of having to work for someone’s attention. With you, however, he found himself wanting to try. He wanted to flirt with you, he just had no idea where to begin.

He held the door to the pizza place on campus open for you, giving you another one of his warm, heart-melting smiles as he gestured for you to enter first with the motion of one of his long, muscular arms, the sleeve of his navy blue sweater shifting up on his wrist slightly as he moved, the arms just a little short for his frame. At six-foot-four and the majority of his height in his legs, Clark’s clothes were often just that half inch too short, often masked by pushing his sleeves up or by the shoes he wore.

Little did Clark know, while he was busy admiring your every feature, you were doing the same to him - the way his blue eyes would light up and shine when he smiled was enough to make you swoon. The way he always acted like a total gentleman around you, holding doors, pulling out your chair, walking on the outside of the sidewalk, it was enough to make your heart flutter and race each time. The way he’d talk about his mom’s homemade pies back on his family farm in Smallville, the way he’d sing her praises and humbly brag about how her baking was famous across their little town. He’d always jokingly offer to bring you a slice the next time he went home to visit her, teasing you that despite the fact it wouldn’t be at its freshest, it’d still be the best slice of pie you’d ever eaten. You loved all these things about him, as well as the way he cared for everyone - he was always doing whatever he could to be a good person, which was a rarity a lot of the time on campus at Metropolis University, but you treasured his difference from the other men on campus.

To anyone else who saw the two of you sitting together in the pizza parlour that day, they would have sworn you were on a date - the longing, loving stares at each other, exchanged stolen glances and sweet smiles, blushing red cheeks and nervous laughter - all the signs of a budding romance sparking between two young lovers. To the two of you though, it was one-sided, guarded feelings - scared to make the first move, scared to let feelings become known, anxious about how the other might respond, worried about whether or not your feelings might be showing through too much to the other party. You and Clark occasionally got comments about how sweet of a couple the two of you made from passersby, usually elderly women who’d say it as they passed through, commenting how it reminded them of how they were years ago when they first met their husbands, giving you a wink about how Clark was a keeper, or telling Clark to continue being the gentleman he is. The comments were always met with blushing cheeks from both of you, an awkward chuckle and thank you from Clark and a polite smile from you, but unbeknownst to the both of you, you and Clark both secretly felt your hearts flutter in agreeance to the compliment, hoping the other would agree too.

Clark finished his pizza, pushing his plate away from his body on the table slightly, letting out a satisfied sigh as he reached for his glass of soda, bringing it up to his lips to take a sip. He peered over the glass at you, stealing a glance as you blushed to yourself, biting your bottom lip for a second, appearing deep in thought as you sat across from him. Clark wrestled with whether or not he should finally bite the bullet and tell you how he felt. After a few moments of his own deep concentration, he decided tonight was as good a night as ever to finally talk to you about his feelings and find out where he stood with you. He set his glass down, clearly appearing uncomfortable as he shifted in his seat. You tried not to notice his discomfort as you finished eating, and the two of you left to head back to the dorm building in silence. When you reached the front steps of the building, having had enough of the piercing silence and avoiding eye contact that had taken place the whole walk home.

“Listen, I need to talk to you,” Clark said as he shifted the weight of his backpack on his shoulder awkwardly, looking around at the sky, trying to focus his eyesight on anything but your face as he spoke in an effort to avoid the awkwardness that he felt would inevitably come with what he was about to confess to you.

“About what?” You raised an eyebrow as you took in a sharp inhale of air, holding your breath as you hoped he wouldn’t be saying how he met someone or how he thought the two of you could use some space.

“I think you and I should…discuss our relationship, going forward,” Clark shook his head as he chuckled awkwardly and held his hands up for a moment in surrender, “That sounded better in my head, let me try again?”

“I really like you,” Clark finally sighed with a nod of his head, “I’m not good at this, I know I never say the right things, and I know everyone tells me I’m blind to stuff like this, but I really like you. All of you. Everything there is to love about you.”

Clark looked at your bewildered expression, unsure of what to say, but fearing in that moment that he’d just fucked up the only thing he knew he wanted to cling to in life, the one thing that helped him retain some sense of normalcy, some sense of humanity in life while he was living away from Smallville. After a moment of awkward silence had passed, a strained, awkward sounding laugh fell from his lips, almost out of desperation to fill the void that was lingering between you both now.

“I like you too. All of you. And, I know you’re…different, Clark, I don’t know what it is, or how to explain it, but I know you’re not like most people. And I don’t care. I like you anyways,” You finally said, nodding your head in confirmation of your words as you spoke.

Clark breathed out a heavy sigh and laughed, shaking his head, his thick, dark hair tousling slightly as he did so. His deep blue eyes looked at you again, sparkling and glistening as they always did when he smiled. He put a hand on your cheek gently, leaning in to give you a tender kiss. He’d kissed you on the cheek before in a friendly, affectionate kind of way, but this, this was different. This was a soft, tender kiss, full of passion and love for you, as if you were the only woman in the world. In a way, in Clark’s mind, you were, at least in this moment. “You have no idea how badly I’ve wanted to hear you say that, you know,” Clark murmured as he pulled away from your lips, smiling softly as he rested his forehead on yours, “As for the different thing…we’ll get to that.”

#smallville! clark kent x reader #clark kent x reader #smallville clark kent x reader #smallville clark kent #clark kent fanfiction #clark kent fic #smallville fanfiction #smallville fanfic #smallville! clark kent x you #clark kent x you #smallville clark kent x you

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cozage · 1 year

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Hi! Could you write something with Sanji, Zoro, Law (maybe Izo) with a S/O that likes to do graffiti? Like, they have a small ring notebook (idk if it's this, but it's the one that opens and close and u can put more pages) where they keep their small arts, incluiding their name? Pretty pleasee

A/N: I hope I did you justice!! I kept Izo off because I haven’t met him yet (Still in Wano!) but when I get to him I might revisit this and add it!

Characters: gn reader x Sanji, Zoro, Law

Cw: just cute fluff :)

Total word count: 600

Graffiti on His Heart

Sanji

He finds your notebook by accident. He was cleaning up your room to surprise you, and found your binder in a pile of scattered files

You found him a few hours later, mesmerized by your drawings. You rush over to him, trying to cover it, but you see him staring at some decorated block letters “Sanji + Y/N” with a heart around it.

There’s other things around it, quotes you’d heard from the crew and things that happened around the ship that you doodled to make cute page accents, and you can see Sanji’s eyes looking at every single thing you drew, his fingers sliding down the page as he looks.

“You weren’t supposed to find that,” you say, your hands gripping around your notebook.

“What?” his eyes are still on your pages even as you take them away. He looks up at you, and it’s like he just realized you were there.

“Oh, Y/N!” He blushes hard when he realizes he's been caught snooping. “You never mentioned being an artist! This work is magnificent!”

“I dabble sometimes,” you say, closing it quickly. “Nothing fancy.”

“Nothing fancy?!!?” he scoffs. “You could design our logos! You could decorate this whole ship and give it some real character! You should talk to Franky!”

“Oh, thanks Sanji.” His compliment makes you blush. “But I don’t really like to show my work to others or show it off. I just use it as a creative outlet sometimes.”

“Oh!” He looks back at the notebook at smiles. “Well if you ever want someone to show it to, I would love to see the rest of them.”

You sheepishly give the notebook back to him, and the two of you flip through the rest of it together.

Zoro

Zoro walks up to you while you’re sitting on the deck. “Is this yours?” he asks, holding your sketch binder. “I found it in our room. Never seen it before.”

He opens it and flips through it, and you jump up to grab it. “It’s some really good stuff,” he mumbles, and you snatch it out of his hands and snap it closed.

“Thanks!” you say, holding it close to your chest.

“Hey wait, I was still looking!” He reaches out for it but you pull away.

“It’s mine!” you say, taking a few steps back from him so he can’t leap forward and grab it.

He huffs and rolls his eyes, turning away from you to go back to whatever he was doing.

“It looked really good,” he called back to you. “I liked the themed pages you made for each crew members. Especially ours.” He winked at you and walked away without another word.

You’ll occasionally find your binder moved from where you last placed it, or find little extra things (like subtle lines or shading) added to doodles as proof that Zoro was occasionally checking it out, but he doesn’t comment on it or tell anyone else about it. He just waits for you to bring it up and show you again before he outwardly comments on how much he likes your work.

Law

“Law,” you call out, walking into his office. “Have you seen my green binder anywhere?”

“Over here,” he yells from the back room. You walk into his lab to find it sitting on top of his books. He’s measuring out some kind of liquid, focused on getting it perfect. “I really liked what you did with our jolly roger on page three. I was thinking we could adopt it for some of the gear we have.”

“You looked through it?” you gasp, your eyes flicking over to your sketchbook.

His gaze moves away from the beaker in front of him and over to you for a moment. “Was I not supposed to? It was on my desk.”

You cursed silently. You had been doodling last night while he was reshelving some books, you must’ve left it behind when you all went to bed.

He stood up, abandoning his project to put his full attention on you now. “I didn’t know you liked to do graffiti and sketches. We could definitely spruce up the outside of the ship soon and use some of your designs, you know? Or have a crew wall in the common area. The names you did on page ten really captured the essence of each crew member, it’d be cool to have that displayed somewhere.”

You feel anxious at the thought, and Law can feel it. “You don’t have to,” he rushes to say. “It’s just a thought.”

“Can I think about it?” you ask, and he nods in agreement.

“You should show them though. The others. You’re talented, and I’m sure they’d like to see it.”

He goes back to his work, and he doesn’t bring it up again, but he clears off a wall in the common room and sets out some spray paint if you ever feel up for it. And he always keeps his eye out for a chance to steal a glimpse of new work you’ve done in your green binder.

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audhd-nightwing · 1 year

Text

modern trans steddie au where eddie is stealth among the Party, only wayne and corroded coffin know he’s trans. also there’s no upside down & they’re both in high school (16/17)

so one day he’s at steve’s (just the two of them, which has been happening more often lately much to eddie’s surprise and delight) and his ribs start to ache and it gets hard to breathe and shit he’s been binding for too long.

eddie attempts to leave, just wants to go home and take a binding break and wear his dysphoria hoodie for the rest of the day, but steve has already noticed that he’s in pain and no way in hell is steve letting eddie drive when all he can do is clutch at his sides and wheeze.

eddie figures shit, this is it i guess when steve asks what’s wrong. his brow is wrinkled in concern and he’s biting at his nail, trying find any visible injuries on eddie and eddie can’t take it anymore so he just blurts out “my ribs hurt.”

steve pauses, searching his face for something before nodding and sitting on the couch next to him.

“any, uh. particular reason for that?” steve asks hesitantly, messing with the hem of his shirt now.

eddie closes his eyes and takes a few deep breaths, mentally preparing to either lose one of his best friends or explain a lot of stuff. he doesn’t have the courage to open his eyes just yet so he says, through clenched teeth, “i’ve been binding for too long.”

what eddie doesn’t expect is the silence, and he opens an eye to see steve blinking at him, mouth hung open in shock. eddie sighs, getting ready to explain what binding is and why he does it when steve lets out a somewhat strangled laugh before slapping a hand over his mouth.

eddie doesn’t know if he should be offended or not but then steve shakes his head and asks “how long?”

eddie blinks at him. how long…?

steve clarifies, “how long have you worn your binder today?”

eddie, confused beyond belief, simply tells him “ten hours,” and watches as steve’s face scrunches with worry.

“okay,” steve says, getting up and pulling eddie with him, “you’re changing.”

eddie can’t do anything but follow steve to his room and watch as he digs through his closet before holding up a big hoodie triumphantly. steve walks over, dumps the hoodie in eddie’s arms and says “no more binding today,” before leaving and closing the door behind him.

eddie decides he might as well listen to steve and changes, thankful he wore sweats instead of his usual skinny jeans. the hoodie is big, and a deep navy blue with ‘Hawkins Swim Team’ printed on the front. eddie turns to leave but first catches a glimpse of himself in the mirror, specifically… he turns around again and yup, that’s ‘Harrington’ on the back. eddie thinks he might pass out, and not just from overbinding.

eddie can tell he’s blushing when he leaves the room but can’t do anything about it so he fights to urge to just run away and finds steve in the living room. steve looks up at eddie when he walks in and eddie can’t tell if it’s his imagination or if steve is actually blushing at the sight of eddie in his clothes.

steve coughs and averts his eyes, asking “do you feel better?”

eddie smiles hesitantly and sits next to him on the couch.

“yeah, thanks for that,” he replies, fidgeting before continuing, “look i don’t know if you don’t get it or you just don’t care or something but just please don’t tell anyone-”

steve cuts him off, eyes wide and a hand resting on eddie’s shoulder.

“eddie, hey. i would never do that. i swear on my life,” steve meets his gaze and eddie can’t help but believe him. at eddie’s nod steve slumps in relief, the hand still on eddie’s shoulder squeezing in reassurance before letting go.

“so,” eddie starts, feeling steve turn towards him to show he’s paying attention.

“so,” steve parrots, prompting him, and eddie rolls his eyes fondly.

“so, i’m trans. obviously. well, i think obviously. cuz you’re handling this shockingly well so i’m not sure if you’re actually supportive or just really stupid,” steve makes an offended-sounding squawk and eddie grins, “but i appreciate it either way.”

when steve doesn’t respond (again) eddie turns to find him smiling brilliantly at eddie, dimples showing and eyes sparkling, stealing eddie’s breath.

“what?” he asks, dumbfounded.

steve giggles, fucking giggles, and starts pulling his shirt off. eddie chokes on air and is startled into a coughing fit, fucking shit steve is gonna kill him one day, and next thing he knows steve is standing in front of him and handing him a glass of water. eddie downs it gratefully, opening his eyes to see steve standing in front of him still shirtless and eddie can’t help but admire the view before he sees the top surgery scars and realizes what steve was trying to tell him.

eddie can’t help but gape and meet steve’s eyes, who begins laughing even harder at the look eddie gives him.

“you? you, King Steve, prince of Hawkins High, are trans??” eddie exclaims. his worldview is shattering for a second time (both times because of one steve harrington) and he needs a moment to adjust.

steve just nods and continues laughing, managing to say, “what cis guy chooses the nickname King Steve?” before collapsing onto the couch in giggles

eddie can’t help but roll his eyes fondly and poke at steve’s chest.

“you,” he declares, “are an asshole.”

steve makes a mock-wounded noise and drapes himself over eddie’s lap dramatically, clutching his at heart.

“you wound me,” he replies, staring up at eddie. their eyes meet, and eddie feels trapped in steve’s gaze, his heartbeat stuttering when steve tucks a lock of hair behind eddie’s ear.

a moment later steve looks away, face dusted a light pink, and continues, “i didn’t know you were too until just now- otherwise i would’ve told you, promise.”

eddie trusts steve, and knows he’s telling the truth. he chews on his bottom lip a moment, contemplating, before cupping the side of steve’s face with his hand. steve’s eyes flicker to his, a question in them, and this time eddie knows the answer.

“i’m gonna kiss you now, okay?” eddie asks, smiling wide when steve nods emphatically and tucks his hand onto the back of eddie’s neck to pull him down.

the kiss is short and sweet, interrupted by smiles and laughter, and made worse by the awkward position, but eddie wouldn’t change it for the world.

when he pulls back steve is beaming and before eddie say anything else he blurts out, “be my boyfriend?”

eddie stares at him for a second before snorting and lowering his head to laugh into steve’s chest. when he looks up again to see steve’s pout he smiles softly and says, “of course, dumbass.”

when steve’s grin returns, eddie thinks it might be his favorite sight in the whole world.

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rzyraffek · 6 months

Note

This is my first time doing an ask, but I was wondering if I could request an ftm/ftnb reader x slasher fic (any character you think would fit/any character you want to add) where the reader has trouble breathing in the winter/cold and wearing their binder just makes it worse and their whole body is sore due to going up and down stairs so much so they can't keep up with the slashers longer strides and has to run after them.

Like, if the reader and the slashers were at the zoo or somewhere outside and the reader just started to take SUPER deep breaths just to be able to breathe normally or just to get air; especially after walking up or down stairs or hills.

And at one point the reader just gets tired of having to take so many deep breaths so they just go the the bathroom and take off their and layer two jackets over their shirt since they didn't bring an extra bra.

And like about 20 minutes later, reader STILL has to take super deep breaths just to actually breathe and having to run after the slashers just to be able to walk next to them; but with how sore reader is, they can't keep up with their partner and often has to take 3-minute breaks just to be able to catch their breath.

Remember binder users! You should wear them only up to 6hours daily! Dont ruin your ribcage!! I use to wear binder so yeah, I get it.

Anyways👹ofc i will write this!

So bacially, ftm s/o struggles with breathing due to binder and weather! You didn't specified which slashers so I will just go with flow on this one!

Slashers with s/o that struggles with breathing due to binder

Micheal Myers

Don't worry dude is used to noises of people choking to death lol

But fr dude gets a bit worried? He doesn't like how sometimes s/o has to take breaks just to breathe

If you guys are in rush and s/o has to take a break dude will just "hell nah fuck this" and pick s/o up

Micheal really doesn't care about gender or sex. Your a dude? 👍. There's no need to 'prove it' or look certain way for him to belive you

Brahms Heelshire

Dude fr will set a timer on his phone so s/o won't 'overdose' binder 😭

Erm honey you are starting to hyperventilate, its time for a break dont you think?

Brahms acually did his homework and read bunch of articles about binders and now he understands way more😊👍

Darling remember to exercise before and after you wear it so it less uncomfy

Finds s/o very cute and squishes them too hard sometimes

Billy Lenz

????

The fuck?Are you suffocating or something? *judges*

What feels worse? Wearing binder a bit too tight or billy sitting on your chest while your trying to sleep?

Bro doesn't understand what is "gender dysphoria" and tired to hide s/o binder once cuz he didnt trust it

Lucky for you Billy doesn't go outside, so you don't have to worry about him getting lost walking faster than you

What are pronouns?

Jason Voorhees

Oh Jason you big baby

Jason just feels bad, cuz he knows that s/o feels less cool without the binder but baby you cant breathe😭

Of course he will wait for s/o and he won't rush them at all!

Will try to convince s/o to not wear binder so often. Jason sees you as a perfect boufriend weather you wear it or no

Genuinely worried about s/o health

Asa Emory

Ah creature, why would you think that wearing binder for whole day was a good idea?

Dude is smart, he already knew what binders are!

He is aware that trans people often struggle with dysphoria and he can't just be like "dont wear a binder lol" so he tries to calming explain that nono honey you are a man even if you don't have a flat chest i love you

If he finds out that s/o whats a top surgery, Asa went "Alr bet" and then your bank account blew up

Funfact! If s/o was openly trans before they met Asa... dude was convinced that s/o just has severe asthma 😭 he was like ??? Uh do you have your inhalator with you?? Or like is it temporary???

👽guys I ate good chicken today. With sauce

Also im not sure if its good? I kinda forgot how to write entering stuff😭😰

#slasher x reader #slasher headcanons #billy lenz #billy lenz x reader #micheal myers #brahms heelsire #brahms x reader #micheal myers x reader #asa emory x reader #the collector x reader #billy lenz x male reader #micheal myers x you #micheal myers headcanons #jason vorhees headcanon #jason vorhees x reader #jason vorhees imagine #asa emory #brahms heelshire #brahms heelshire x reader

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metalheadsforblacklivesmatter · 9 months

Text

Today's Disability Pride month post

Object permanence

I see this one misunderstood a lot because people think of it in the context of babies. But ADHD object permanence is different from baby object permanence.

What is it?

So remember yesterday when I said if I get a planner to manage my time blindness, I forget it exists? So in the context of babies it's "If you put the planner in the box, the baby thinks the planner is gone." But in the context of ADHD it's "I put my planner away in a drawer. My brain is actively thinking about something else. That planner is GONE to me. But if in 5 days my friend is "I'll write this in my planner." I'll be like "Shit. My planner is still in that drawer." It's not that I forget that the planner exists. The idea of planners ever existing at all completely escapes my mind. (Okay but if it's hidden in that drawer for 5 years I will probably forget that I even bought it).

How do you manage it?

Honestly. I really don't fucking know. I try to not keep things out of site. Out of site out of mind. If it's something like "I need my computer to work." Then it can be put away. Because the idea of needing a computer will remind me that I have one. But if it's "I bought this pretty necklace". I need to store it out in the open otherwise I'll forget I have it because I don't NEED it.

If you store everything out in the open, won't it collect dust...

Yeah... listen. I don't know what you want me to say here. If I don't see it I forget it exists. I just found a pair of headphones the other day that I didn't even know I had, which was really annoying because I really needed a pair of headphones. If you got any tips and tricks let me know.

I still have a whiteboard I need to put up because I keep forgetting I have it. I also have a binder I need to organize my important information in but I keep forgetting to do that because I keep forgetting I have it. And I have weights I keep stubbing my toe on because if they get put away I'll forget I have them and my doctor says I need to exercise more.

Wow this is the first time you've raised awareness for a thing and not had advice

Yeah. Because I don't understand how you have all of the things that can possibly exist perfectly organized in your minds. Like how the fuck are you like "Ah shit. I need to wrap this present. I'll use this wrapping paper I bought 3 years ago." It's weird. It's weird and it's creepy that you just remember shit like that.

I was like "I should do some exercises because the doctor said so". And I was doing the exercise like "this would be a better exercise if I had weights." I DID HAVE WEIGHTS. THE ONES I NEEDED WERE RIGHT BY MY FEET. HOW DID I FORGET I HAD THEM.

-fae

#object permanence #disability pride month #disability awareness month #disability awareness #disability pride #adhd

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lakesbian · 3 months

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Put the Undersiders in a busy airport or train station. How do they handle it? Who gets onto a the wrong flight/train? How many times would Aisha use her power to get into the cockpit or engine room of the train?

oh my GOD how is putting the undersiders in a busy airport or train station not one of the Situations we've put them in yet. this is great. paging @simurghed urgently. everyone please share your undersiders go to busy airport or train station thoughts this is my favorite kind of autism to engage in

brian is like. You know he's being brian about this. you know he's got his schedule printed out and all the tickets pointed out and they're in some little binder and he's making sure he specifically is carrying it the whole time. and the one time lisa casually reminds him to make sure he has xyz necessary item he's like I Have It, Don't Be Neurotic, because his coping mechanism for being nervous and feeling like a woman is questioning his Authority (<- assumed as the main and eternal coping mechanism) is misogyny. love him.

obviously taylor is bringing bugs with her wherever they go and i like to imagine if theyre sitting down in an airport waiting for a really long time and they were in one of the areas where the birds have gotten inside and are nesting + looking for food (that's a universal airport feature right? the birds that got indoors and just live there now?) she might entertain alec and aisha and also herself by flying bugs around 4 the birds and leading them on little hunting excursions and into loops and shit.

aisha takes selfies in the cockpit or engine room (shes posing next to the pilot and making bunny ears behind their head with her fingers) whenever she gets bored and then comes back to show them to alec and brian realizes theres Muffled Laughter happening in their row after aishas been Not There for a while and is like. hmm. that cant be good. and is doing a really bad job of trying to twist himself out of his seat casual-style to find out whats all that then. i can also imagine him insisting on seating himself next to aisha

...three seat plane rows. brian sitting in the middle of aisha and alec and having a wretched time. taylor rachel and lisa lezzing it up in the row in front of them.

i think alec would really enjoy take-off on a plane because Wheee he's all floaty :) and then spend the next however many hours experiencing boredom-induced ego death. possible activities include: fiddling around on his ds. making a little teenager-typical 2011-era flipaclip animation. accidentally falling asleep on brian's arm and starting to snore and drool while aisha is doing the same thing on his other arm. watching a bad movie on his little in-flight tv screen and hopefully trying to engage both brian and aisha in conversation about it because he wants to have friends.

okay i diverged from the point of air Port or train Station sorry. ive never been in a real train station so i have less to speak for there but i think it would be fun to watch the undersiders get crotchety with each other in a long line for overpriced airport food.

imagine if you will brian and taylor trying to fit comfortably in a Nappable Position in the chairs in the flight waiting area. leg cramp city

i think this would all probably be very stressful for rachel :( maybe she andt aylor should hold hands about it. to be safe.

i want to see how lisa tries to make waiting in an airport an enriching and fulfilling activity for taylor so bad. honestly it would probably be no matter what. real bonding experience.

brian laborn tries to carry 9 suitcases at once: and other fun adventures in toxic masculinity

alec vasil has to go pee, right now, for approximately 10-15 minutes, when he's asked to find something in a heavy bag: and other fun adventures in shirking responsibility

aisha laborn's mysterious magical snack manifestation: and other fun adventures in robbing the airport

you know if they were at a busy train station brian would do that thing where he ushers the undersiders around physically and it is fully an indicator of his psychological issues but also it'd be cute. it'd be cute to watch him blocking the crowd so everyone else could move more comfortably and use his Height Advantage to guide everyone most efficiently by pressing on their backs. his psychological issues are endearing

people keep asking about How Much Longer Until Boarding and lisa starts getting bored and providing real-time updates of the Precise amount of time left. if theres a delay she reads out why too

???

its nice. to imagine if they could have a fun time going to locations.

#ask #wormblr #parahumans #this isnt my best its nothing actually im just Rotating

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oftenwantedafton · 2 months

Text

Personal Space - Steve Raglan/William Afton x Female Reader

Chapter 2

Rating - Explicit

Warnings - none for this chapter

Also available on AO3

Tuesday morning.

Steve decides to try to show you around the computer programs that are used the most frequently. He appreciates technology; how could he not, given his engineering background? But he’s a creature of habit. He likes the old tech that’s familiar, comfortable. It’s the reason he hasn’t let them switch out his computer or phone for something newer. The electronic typewriter on the table behind his desk still sees a lot of use. He likes the old adage “If it’s not broken, don’t fix it.” Nothing wrong with innovation. He admires that. But. When it comes to this job. Well, he just prefers the tried and true methods.

He’s still not an expert on the new scheduling program. He doesn’t use it much. But he figures he might as well try to show you. Every time he moves the mouse to click on something he finds himself on the wrong screen. Confusing the menus. He’s getting frustrated already.

“Here, let me try.”

“No, I think I’ve got it…no, that’s not it.”

“Can I just…” You lean over without waiting for a response. Your fingers close over his to guide the mouse.

Raglan inhales sharply. This close, he can smell your fragrance. Something fruity like raspberries, maybe. Your hair is tidy today now that the skies are finally emptied of water. You’re wearing a black pantsuit that fits better than the outfit you’d worn the previous day. The skin on your fingertips is soft. Your eyes are focused on the screen. He should just remove his hand and let you take over. But he’s frozen, immobile. He can’t remember the last time someone’s touched him beyond the courtesy of a handshake.

“There it is. You were close. It’s just a little convoluted…” Your voice trails off as you release his hand, leaning back. Staring. Something’s happening. You hadn’t quite moved back to your original position. Still close. Heat wafting. That sweet scent.

Steve’s mouth goes dry. He struggles to work moisture into it. “Well, good, I guess we don’t need to waste any more time on that, then. I’m going to go make coffee.” Pushing the swivel leather chair away. At last some clearer air. He fusses at the coffee bar. A little clumsy. Nearly drops the pot on the way to the sink. You’ve unnerved him. Not an easy thing to do. He doesn’t like it. He makes sure his seat is further from yours when he settles again. Grabs some binders from the nearby shelf and dumps them on the desk blotter. Something to distract you until the next client arrives.

The untouched coffee seated on the coaster goes cold.

***

Wednesday afternoon. Another workday behind him.

You’re parked closer to his car today. You’d taken his advice and gotten to work earlier.

Steve halts near the rear bumper of yours. He notices an outline of Hello Kitty affixed to the left corner. “I’ll see you tomorrow.” He turns to leave but your voice halts him.

“Are you doing anything? When you get home, I mean.”

“Nothing in particular. Why?”

“Want to go get coffee first?”

He frowns. “You don’t drink coffee.”

“Well, I’ll get something else then. Know where to get a decent milkshake?”

“I do, actually.” He’s still hesitating. “We just spent eight hours together. You really want to spend another hour?”

“I don’t know anyone else,” you remind him.

So that was the motivating reason behind it. You were lonely. Homesick already. It was certainly beyond any obligation of his. He was only responsible for you at work. Outside of that was your own affair. But a milkshake actually sounded great. He surrenders. “Alright, let’s go.”

“We can take my car.”

Raglan has a difficult time settling into the passenger seat of the compact. His knees press uncomfortably close to the dashboard.

“The lever to move it back is underneath the seat, in the front…yeah, you got it. I guess that’s as far back as it goes,” you murmur apologetically. The seat only moves a few scant inches. The older man is still quite crammed in. “Um, where are we going?”

“Take a right out of here and head to the second set of lights. I’ll tell you the rest when you get to that point.” He reaches for the shoulder strap of the lap restraint and notices there’s a Hello Kitty cushion velcroed over it.

“Is your masculinity threatened yet?” You glance over at him as you reverse the car out of the parking spot.

“Hardly,” he responds drily.

“How come you know who Hello Kitty is, anyway?”

“My daughter.”

“How old is she?

“Around your age.”

“Do you have other children?”

“Yes.”

“How old are they? Are they home with your wife or…”

“No. I live alone.”

“Oh.” You exit the parking lot. There’s a fair amount of traffic this time of the afternoon. “Sorry. I didn’t mean to pry.”

“It’s fine.” It’s not, actually. But you couldn’t possibly know the reason why. So he’ll accept your apology in good faith.

“So where are we going, anyway?”

“A diner.”

“Do you go there a lot?”

“Everyone does. It’s something of a local attraction. That’s it there on your left.”

Steve sighs in relief when he’s able to extricate himself from your cramped vehicle. There are a lot of cars in the parking lot. Probably better off getting something to go. Which meant getting back into the sardine can again right after. Great.

“It’s so cute!”

Raglan grunts, watching you take in the chrome trim, red vinyl seating and checkerboard patterned flooring. Classic 50s styling.

As he’d predicted, there’s a line for seating. “We’ll get drinks to go, okay? Otherwise we’ll be waiting forever.” You nod. “Flavors are up there on the right.” He points to a row of signs with red printing. You protest when he pulls out his wallet after you order and he waves the argument away. “I’ve got it. You can treat me next time.” You look a little too pleased with the promise that there will be a next time and he inwardly curses. He has to be more careful with his wording.

He doesn’t even know why he’s going through this charade at all. He should have just declined and gone home.

Steve jams himself back into the passenger seat and takes a sip of his shake, the burst of sweetness on his tongue mollifying him a bit. Well, he guesses it was maybe worth it. Maybe.

“So since I told you about my family, why don’t you tell me about yours. Siblings?”

“None. Oh, that is good. I get why this place is so popular.” You take another long swallow. “It’s just me and my parents.”

Well, that conversation dead ended quickly. He tries to adjust his knees. He knows he’s going to have bruises before this evening is over.

“Let me ask you something. How do you think I’m doing so far? Be honest.”

He looks at you. “You’re performing adequately.”

“Adequately,” you repeat. “That’s it?”

“You’ve barely just begun. What did you expect?”

“I don’t know. Just not ‘adequately’. What can I do to improve?”

Raglans frowns. “Your handshake is too weak, for one thing.”

“So show me the right way to do it.” You settle your cup into the center console’s holder and the older man mirrors your movements.

He hesitates a moment longer, then reaches out to take your hand. As expected your grip is very tentative. Also cool from the chilled drink. “Harder. Be confident. It will automatically help you when you begin the conversation.”

He feels your fingers tighten, exerting more pressure. Then your hand drops and his goes with it. Still clutching each other, resting on the padded surface between you. Yours so small and soft in his. He withdraws his hand abruptly, jerking free with perhaps a bit more force than necessary, snatching his cup back up and taking a long pull from the straw. Instant brain freeze. He winces.

“How was that?”

“Better.” He busies himself with studying the other cars in the parking lot.

“What else do I need to do to improve?”

“We’ll discuss it at work. I’d like to go home now.”

“Um, okay.”

A silent ride back to the office parking lot. You pull in beside his car.

“Thanks for coming out with me.”

“I’ll see you tomorrow.”

Back in his own vehicle. So much roomier.

So much emptier, too.

***

Thursday. There’s a seminar being offered nearby. Steve isn’t really interested, but he thinks you might benefit from it so he agrees to attend with you. Taking one car because it just seems easier. He insists on being the one to drive this time.

“Wow, there’s a cassette player in here. How old is this car, anyway?” You ask, settling inside and drawing the seatbelt strap over your shoulder.

“Old. Like me.” He turns the key in the ignition. The rabbit’s foot swings gently on its chain.

“You’re not that old.”

“That old?”

You grin. He’s starting to like your smile. Soft and sweet and warm. Natural. Genuine.

Once you arrive in the conference center, he allows you to choose where you want to sit. You opt for the back row, occupying the two seats on the end. You’re handed a copy of the PowerPoint presentation. There are lines for taking notes to the right of each printed slide. Steve glances over to see what you’re writing. You’re not. You’re doodling. Drawing. A little cartoon rabbit. He fights the urge to smirk. “Stop that and pay attention,” he hisses. Another smile. There’s no way you’re unaware of how disarming that gesture is.

“It’s for you,” you whisper back, sliding the packet over to him. He hands you his own copy in exchange. Admires the little caricature that is nearly an exact replica of Spring Bonnie, the mascot from the picture on the restaurant coaster in his office. Jaunty bow. Rows of buttons. He stares at it until his vision blurs.

There’s a one hour break for lunch. Fast food has been acquired. Burgers, fries, soda. He chooses a spot at the end of the parking lot. You dip a French fry into sweet and sour sauce. Raglan scowls disapprovingly. “That’s a crime you’re committing right there.”

“No, it isn’t. It’s the salty sweet combo. It’s good. I bet you’ve never even tried it.”

“I don’t need to.”

“You should. It’s not fair to judge it unless you have.” You dip another sliver of fried potato into the plastic cup and hold it before his lips. The pale brown sauce drips down. He takes a reluctant bite. Your fingers brush his tongue in the process. It’s just as you’ve said. Salty. Sweet. You lick the stray dribbles from your fingers, watching his reaction. “It’s good, right?”

He won’t admit it. Just like he refuses to acknowledge he’d liked tasting your skin just then. He stares hard outside the windshield. Lets you babble and grunts noncommittal answers until it’s time to return inside.

Late afternoon. Steve pulls up outside your apartment building to drop you off.

“Thanks. It was fun.”

“It wasn’t supposed to be fun. It was supposed to be educational,” he mutters reprovingly.

“Come on, Steve. It was kind of fun, right?” Your head tips back into the cradle of the headrest, watching him.

“Kind of.” His voice is rough.

“I’ll see you tomorrow.” You struggle with the seatbelt buckle.

“It gets stuck sometimes, here…” He leans over. His fingers collide with yours. The mechanism finally surrenders, releasing. The sound of nylon winding back into place. You make no move to leave. Whatever you were expecting clearly hasn’t happened. “See you tomorrow,” he says gruffly, his fingers wrapping around the steering wheel, dismissing you.

***

Steve had forgotten he’d given you his home phone number. Early on, in case you needed to contact him about something work related.

It surprises him when he hears your voice that Friday evening. He doesn’t get personal calls often. Doesn’t usually get calls period unless it’s from a solicitor. He leans forward, easing off of the cushion against his back on the living room couch. “Are you alright? What time is it?” He’s too embarrassed to admit he’d dozed off. He rubs at sleep bleared eyes, trying to focus his gaze on his wristwatch. Only ten.

“Were you asleep? Did I wake you?”

“No,” he lies. “Are you alright?” He repeats. He remembers you mentioning you were going out with some of the other employees after work for drinks. He’d politely declined the invite. He never goes out to socialize. “You didn’t drive home drunk, did you?”

“Yes. No.” A sigh. It’s loud in his ear. Your mouth is very close to the receiver. “I can’t sleep.”

He frowns, leaning back. “You seriously called me in the middle of the night to tell me you have insomnia?”

“It’s not the middle of the night,” you protest. “How early do you usually go to bed?”

“That doesn’t matter.”

“Are you mad? You sound upset. I hate it when you’re upset with me.”

“I’m not upset. Just confused. What do you expect me to do about it? Drink a glass of of warm milk.”

“That’s so gross!”

“Count sheep. Put some television on in the background, I don’t know what you want from me. Take a shower.”

“I just took a bath.”

“Oh.” An image of you swathed in bubbles shoved from his thoughts just as quickly as it appears. “Well how did it go tonight, anyway?”

“It was kind of boring, to be honest. They’re kind of boring.”

“They’re you’re coworkers. You should try to get along with some of them, at the very least. In case you ever need—”

“—I wish you had gone.”

His hand tightens on the receiver. “I don’t see what possible difference it would have made.”

“Because then someone I actually wanted to talk to would have been there.”

He doesn’t have a response for that. Doesn’t really comprehend any of what’s happening beyond you being inebriated and lonely. Again, not his problem.

“I think you should try to sleep now.”

“Okay, I guess. If that’s what you think I should do.”

“Yes, I do.”

“You’re sure you’re not mad?”

“Starting to be,” he mutters.

“Wait, Steve, really?” You suddenly sound sober.

“Forget it. Just get some rest. I’ll see you Monday.” He hangs up the phone, deciding on a shower before bed.

Comforter and top sheet flipped back and he’s tucked beneath both. Eyes snapping back open as soon as they’re closed. Staring up into the void. Sleep eluding his capture.

***

A new week of work begins.

You arrive looking well rested. If you’re at all embarrassed about the other evening’s phone call it doesn’t show. Maybe you’d even forgotten it. Well, he certainly wasn’t going to dwell on it.

“Can we eat outside today? It looks nice by the pond.” You let the blinds snap back into place and rejoin him behind the desk.

“You can have lunch wherever you want.”

“You’ll come with me, though, right? I don’t want to eat by myself.”

“Maybe.” He’s not committing himself to that. “You need to focus on the task at hand right now. The next client is coming in soon. You’re going to be leading the discussion.”

You nod, tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “How do I look?”

“Nervous.”

You frown.

“Poised, articulate, confident. Those are the three qualities you need. Even if you’re not feeling them, you should exude them.”

You blink, looking surprised. “You want me to lie?”

“Sometimes lying is the correct choice. The only choice,” he adds.

“That’s…I don’t even know. Give me one example of when it’s better to lie.”

“Fine. Say a young child’s lost their parent in a violent death. Isn’t it kinder to say they went to sleep, they’re in heaven with loved ones, watching over them, whatever platitude people like to spout, as opposed to telling them they were murdered, hacked to pieces by some serial killer?”

“Geez, that’s really dark.”

He shrugs. “You wanted an example.”

You shake your head. “I still don’t think people should lie.”

Steve grunts. “Do as you like. I’m only trying to give you pointers to ensure your success.”

“Do you lie a lot?”

Oh, what a question. If you only knew. “Yes.”

“To me?”

“What would I lie to you about?”

You squirm in your seat. “I don’t know.”

“I wouldn’t worry about it.”

“But why? Why would you?”

He sighs. His fingers drum on the desk blotter. The conversation is becoming tedious. He wishes the applicant would hurry up and make an appearance. “For the same reason as the example I gave you. For your own good.”

“I don’t understand.”

“You’re not supposed to. Where the hell is this woman? Maybe I should have reception give her a call. See if she forgot, got tied up or…”

“Steve.”

The drumming fingers still. “What?”

“I don’t want you to lie to me. I’m not a child.”

“Then don’t act like one.”

“Is it because of my car?”

You’re trying to make light of the situation and it irritates him to no end. “It’s everything. Everything about you screams immature. Your appearance. Your demeanor. And yes, that ridiculous car. Getting drunk and calling me up.” He sees you wince but he barrels forward. “Even asking me for permission to eat outside. Take some initiative. Be an adult and make a decision on your own.”

The light, teasing tone evaporates. “I thought we were friends.” Your voice is faint, barely audible.

“Friends? We’re not friends. We’re coworkers. That’s it. I didn’t volunteer for this. You were foisted upon me. All because you had some preconceived notion that I was going to be some ideal instructor for you to follow. You shouldn’t even be here. You belong up north. Back with your parents. Whatever friends you had there. There’s nothing for you here.”

It’s like a floodgate has been opened. He knows he’s being unnecessarily cruel. It’s hardly the first time. So why does he feel so guilty for saying these things to you?

Your eyes are getting shiny. Making him feel even more uncomfortable. “Don’t even think about crying. I’m not dealing with th—” The phone rings, interrupting his next tirade. “Raglan. Great. Yeah, find a block to reschedule.” He hangs up, glancing at you. “She cancelled. We’re free until the afternoon now. After lunch.”

You nod, averting your gaze.

“I’m going outside.” He doesn’t wait for a response, grabbing his lunch tote and heading for the elevator. He punches the down arrow with more force than necessary. Stupid, feeling remorse. Over some new hire. Who was immature and overly sensitive. He was doing you a favor. The real world was not a kind place. You needed to toughen up. The training wheels had to come off sooner or later. Might as well be sooner.

The career counselor settles onto one of the shadier picnic tables. Doesn’t even bother unzipping the bag. He’s looking out at the water. A pair of mallards and a row of offspring following. Gentle quacks. Preening feathers. Beaks dipping for a drink.

You sit beside him. Drop a plastic shopping bag on the weathered wood. Make no move to open it, staring at the pond.

“I brought you a brownie.”

He blinks, looking over at you. Your gaze is still focused on the scenery. You sniffle. He thinks some of those tears made good on their threats and escaped after he’d left you in his office.

“Thank you,” he says stiffly.

You nod. “I’m not…I’m not really hungry.”

“Neither am I. I’m going to go for a walk.” He stands. Glances at your seated form. “You can come along, if you want.”

You rise from the bench. Still not making eye contact. The older man begins walking. The trees grow thicker the further away from the pond you travel, a dense stand that reaches back to the edge of the property. Conservation land that can’t be developed. Sunlight struggling to reach through the leaves. Dappled shadows. He likes it better here. Too fair skinned for all that light beaming down. Better in the cool green shade. The pond is no longer in sight. Even the office building is out of his field of view. In truth he’s never been back this far.

Steve halts abruptly and you stumble to stop beside him, nearly tripping over a tree root. What he means to do is simply break your fall. Curse you out for being clumsy. But his body has other intentions. The arm that was to be a barrier curling around you. Pulling you against him.

It’s not in him to say he’s sorry. He’s not one to apologize. He thinks it’s a sign of weakness. A degradation of character. Erosion of pride. He won’t allow it.

Your back rests against his chest. He hadn’t set a very brisk pace. More of a leisurely stroll. But now he finds it hard to breathe. The harsh rasp of it echoing loudly. His arm is still wrapped around you. Both of your hands curled over it. His lips pressed against your hair. Inhaling the scent buried there. Strawberry shampoo. He releases you gently. Doesn’t push you away, merely loosens his grip. Feels your hands hesitating over his dropping arm. Reluctant to let go. You turn to face him. His lips part as if to speak. What will he say now? What can he possibly say?

He says nothing. The coward’s way out. He turns back in the direction of the pond. You follow beside.

The trees keep this secret.

#william afton x you #william afton x reader #steve raglan x reader #steve raglan x you #dividers credit @ saradika-graphics

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lou-struck · 5 months

Text

Snow-Covered Slippers

Katsuki Bakugo x reader

25 Days of Ficmas Day 3

W.C: 1.6k

~Bakugo's frosty winter morning with you is interrupted when you bring a guest into your home.

It’s one of those rare, cozy winter mornings with Katsuki. Your living room windows are covered in last night’s frost as you sit cross-legged on the couch watching some morning talk show. The host is learning how to make a delicious-looking maple glaze salmon dish.

You make a mental note to save that recipe for later by slipping it into your boyfriend’s recipe binder so he can make it for you.

“I know that look, you’re up to no good aren’t you?” Katsuki asks, pulling you from your thoughts with a steaming cup of coffee. It smells like cinnamon and vanilla.

Like Home

Like Him

“thank you,” you hum, blowing on the west of steam before taking a tentative sip. You tiredly sigh into the drink. It tastes like heaven, and you look up at the Blond in thankful wonder. Coffee always tastes better to you when someone else makes it. And he knows it. It only takes him a few minutes to do, but it’s one of the easiest ways he can think of to remind you just how much he cares. Especially since he’s not too fond of the mushy stuff.

“You should make me that.” You giggle, pointing out the recipe on the screen.

His eyes narrow as he reads the description. “I can make you something way better than that babe,” he scoffs.

You raise a brow. “Can you really?”

“Hell yeah, I can,” he smirks. Knowing that he had fallen for your very obvious dinner-related plot.

You are interrupted by the knocking on your front door. A happy smile appears on your face as you set your coffee cup down and spring up from the sofa.

“Huh, what’s Shitty Hair’s car doing out front?” Katsuki asks as your fuzzy socks pad across the hardwood floors.

“You’ll see.” Open the door to see the familiar-looking redhead. Little flakes of snow stand out against the brilliant red shade of his hair, and you notice he is wearing his winter Hero Costume and clutching a tiny black and gray pitbull puppy that wiggles in his gentle yet firm grip as it tries to get closer to you.

You smile brilliantly as you see the puppy. “You brought my Godson!”

He greets you with a smile full of pointy teeth. “Hey y/n. Thank you guys so much for helping me out with Rocky.”

“Who the hell is Rocky?” Bakugou grumbles, rounding the corner. Stopping in his tracks when he sees the little dog in his friend’s arms. The last time the two of you had dog-sat, he was tormented by your neighbor’s teleporting puppy. So you know this is messing with him.

“Hey, Bakubro,” the redhead beams, looking at his bestie. “I got called in to work at the last minute and didn’t have time to drop Rocky off at his doggy daycare so y/n said you guys would watch him for a few hours.”

Upon hearing your name, Katsuki turns and looks at you with a look of betrayal on his face. “When the hell were you gonna tell me about this?” He asks.

You go up on your tiptoes to kiss his cheek. Your version of an apology, even though your words say otherwise. “I wasn’t.”

“Why, you little-” he starts to growl, and you ignore him, turning your attention back to the poor Hero, who is still standing out in the cold. He’s too polite to say anything to you, but you can tell that he’s not just cold but also stressed about the time.

“Hey, don’t worry. Rocky is in good hands,” you say, holding out your arms to take the little guy. He squirms in Kiri’s grip, trying to get closer to this new, good-smelling person while letting out the most adorable little yips.

The Hero looks relieved and, with a sigh, hands the little dog over to you. His paws press against your chest as his little pink tongue gives you a little lick on the cheek. You can’t help but notice that these little paws may seem little to you right now but are far too big for his tiny body. Rocky is going to be huge.

“I’m glad to see he’s in good hands.” Kirishima smiles, taking one less look at his smartwatch, frowning when he reads the time. “I really gotta go, but thank you guys so much. I’ll bring food over when I’m done.”

He turns and walks away, his clunky boots nearly slipping down your snowy driveway as your boyfriend calls after him. “We don’t want your food, Shitty Hair. And stay off my grass. I can see your footprints in the snow.”

“See you later, Grandpa.” The redhead laughs, climbing into his truck and pulling out of your driveway before the blonde can chase after him in his plaid bathrobe.

You hold the puppy happily, using your nails to scratch behind his little ears. “Hi Rocky,” you murmur, turning away from the cold door and heading back to your couch and setting him down on your hardwood floor. Thoroughly entertained as he runs around, too short to actually jump onto any of the furniture.

“He’s so cute.” you gush as Katsuki walks back into the room. Immediately, without fear, the puppy creeps up to your boyfriend’s slippered feet, trying to play with the slightly fuzzy decals.

“What are you lookin’ at?” he grumbles, pulling his slippers away from the dog. You think this is a great opportunity to bring out one of the puppy-safe chew toys you had purchased for your godson the day Kirishima had rescued the little guy.

You toss it on the floor and Rocky gives it a little sniff before pouncing on the little carrot dude. His little teeth are not strong enough to damage the guy but you watch in fascination as he drags his new friend around your living room proudly.

“If that thing pees on anything, I’m blasting him into next year.” Bakugou tsks, narrowing his eyes at the puppy who hasn’t done anything to him at all except steal your attention away from the secretary-clingy Blond.

“That’s my godson you’re threatening there Katsuki.” You say seriously trying to think what little ole you can do to threaten the Hero convincingly. “Do that, and you’ll be sleeping on the couch.”

“You’d miss me too much,” he smirks, stepping closer to you.

You hear Rocky’s little footsteps pad past you, but when you turn to see where he has gone, Katsuki tilts your head back towards him to pettily steal your attention with a kiss. You kiss him back shamelessly, losing any backbone you had the second his lips meet your own.

He pulls back, and you can tell that he is more than proud of his ability to distract you from the puppy.

Puppy?

Shit…

You look around the room but don’t see the little dude or his Plush Carrot buddy anywhere. “Katsuki?” you ask with wide eyes. “Where the HELL is Rocky?”

He looks around quickly, worry etched onto his model-like features. He may have been jealous, but he would truly hate if anything were to happen to his best friend’s dog. “He’s gotta be somewhere around here. He’s too short to climb upstairs.”

Nodding at his words, you silently agree as you slowly walk through your home. Looking for any sign of your little house guest. Silently cursing at yourself for managing to lose the little guy less than fifteen minutes after he was dropped off.

What kind of godparent are you?

“Shit.” you hear Katsuki yell. Your feet slide across the hardwood flooring as you rush over toward the sounds. Right away, you notice Three things.

First, your front door is wide open. Hinges creaking slightly in the wind as it opens wider and wider.

The Second, Mr. Carrot laying outside on your little porch.

And the Third. Rocky happily frolicking through your snow-covered lawn towards the road.

You start to move, but your boyfriend is quicker. In a flash, Katsuki, in his slippers and robe, sprints out the door with fighting speed. He stumbles on the slippery surface and his slippers furiously kick up snow as he barrels towards Rocky. The Pup is too focused on catching snowflakes on his tongue he doesn’t realize he is getting closer and closer to oncoming traffic.

“Gotcha,” Katsuki huffs, grabbing the little guy surprisingly gently and holding him close to him. A few cars pass by. An ominous message as to what could’ve been. Katsuki sees this, too, and holds the puppy just a bit close to his chest as he makes his way back inside. His robe and slippers are completely soaked from the snow, as he shrugs them off. You try to shut the door, but there appears to be a loose fixture that requires a bit more of a push than normal. It must be how Rocky was able to get out in the first place.

“Is he okay?” you ask worriedly, reaching out to gently pet the dog’s snow-speckled ears. He still looks just as happy as before, so you feel way less concerned as Katsuki hands him to you. And he goes back to snuggling up to you.

“We gotta get that door fixed.” he mumbles, “That was close.”

“Too close, you say, setting him back on the ground. He continues on with his exploration of the house as if he wasn’t in danger minutes ago. “Rocky goes up to the snow-covered slippers and gives them a curious sniff. His little brown nose inhales a clump of snow, and he runs away from the sensation, sniffling adorably.

You giggle and see the soft smile on Katsuki’s face. “At least you don’t have to worry about him chewing up your slippers today.”

Tagging: @enchantedforest-network

#bnha x reader #my hero academia #bnha #bnha fluff #katsuki bakugou #bakugou x reader #bakugou katsuki #katsuki bakugo x reader #katsuki x reader #x reader

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remuswriting · 5 months

Text

YOU KEEP ME CLOSE; SAWAMURA DAICHI

The only time Y/N gets during his shift to take off his binder is his lunch. It goes similarly every day when waiting for it to come around.

WARNINGS: Trans Male! Reader; Fluff; Cashier Things

WORD COUNT: 1,242 words

NOTES: Bestie/coworkers Iwaizumi & Y/N is so important to me. Also, you should be taking breaks with your binder!!! I try to take mine off during my lunch so I don't hurt my ribs. Y/N's ribs aren't bruised in this, just sore from wearing it.

No gender dysphoria in this. It doesn't add anything to it, so I'm just going to keep the lighter vibe going on here.

Breathing hurts—well, it’s more his ribs than breathing. As he breathes, everything expands, and it hurts. So, he looks at his watch for the third time in 10 minutes to see how long until his lunch break. However, minutes feel like hours whenever it gets like this.

“Time doesn’t pass by faster spending it like that,” Iwaizumi says, and Y/N looks over at him. They’re standing at the end of the aisles for the registers waiting for customers to checkout.

“Time doesn’t pass by fast no matter what you do here,” Y/N says, and he notices a woman with an empty shopping cart walk past them. He gives her a warm smile. Retail has to be one of the most painful jobs anyone can have for lots of reasons. One of them being time never passing by quick enough.

Iwaizumi rolls his eyes, and it’s a better reaction than when he hits Oikawa for something stupid shit. He’s never hit Y/N before, but Y/N doesn’t think he’s hit anyone but Oikawa before. It’s most likely a childhood best friend thing that he only gets away with because no one in management has seen him hit sense into Oikawa.

Christmas music plays over the speakers as they straighten up around their registers. It’s that time where there aren’t too many customers in the store, but even if there are, they want self-checkout. Y/N focuses on straightening the gum boxes, pretending his chest isn’t aching.

Don’t look at your watch. Don’t look at your watch. Don’t—

“Are you okay, L/N?” Iwaizumi asks, and Y/N doesn’t look at him, trying to get things perfectly straight.

“Uh, yeah?” he says, and the boxes aren’t cooperating. “Why?”

“You just… You seem a little off.”

Y/N looks over his shoulder at him, and Iwaizumi just seems concerned. Y/N is grateful to have Iwaizumi as a coworker, but he can’t just say that he’s in pain because of his binder. Lunch is the only time he has to take it off and breathe during his eight-hour shift, so he wants it to come faster. He can’t say that, though. It doesn’t matter that Iwaizumi wouldn’t hate him. Y/N just doesn’t tell people. It’s safer, and he has more control that way.

“I’m just hungry,” he says, which isn’t a lie. Having to scan warm food from the deli that smells heavenly is making his stomach grumble. His pocket vibrates, and he quickly pulls his phone out. He can’t stop himself from grinning. “I speak of food and get a text about lunch.”

“Is Sawamura-san stopping by?”

Y/N nods as he tries to bite down his smile. “Yeah, he needs to buy some ingredients. I told him what register I’m on.”

“So he’ll be coming to my register,” Iwaizumi says, and he doesn’t sound upset. There’s actually a faint smile there. (Oikawa once told Y/N that Iwaizumi thinks Daichi is great for Y/N and that he loves seeing Y/N happy. Iwaizumi would never tell him that, though.)

“Yeah, but it’ll be a while, so you still have to have me for the time being.”

“Hopefully, a customer needs to be checked out soon.”

Y/N gasps, a hand immediately covering his heart. “Iwaizumi-san! You wound me!”

Y/N laughs while Iwaizumi just shakes his head slightly and goes back to straightening things. Y/N’s laughter dies down, and he looks at Iwaizumi for a moment before going back to what he was doing.

He was 19 when he came out. It was an impulsive decision that he figures happened because he was so exhausted from shoving himself into some box that didn’t fit him. He was forced to be somebody else—future and all. Absolutely no control of what he could do. So he snapped. He cut his hair, informed everyone around him he’s trans, and cut out so many people for not accepting him. Although it seems so easy to some people, it was so isolating. It was the most alone he’d ever been, but then he met Sugawara and Daichi, and things fell into place. Sometimes it feels like a lifetime ago, even though it’s only been three years.

“Are either of you open?” someone asks, and he looks up to see an older woman. He smiles at her—his retail smile—and nods.

“Yes, I can get you right over here,” he says, and hopefully this makes time move by faster.

Scanning the woman’s groceries takes far longer than he originally thought. He hadn’t fully processed she had two full carts of groceries until she had unloaded half the first cart on the belt. It’s fine, though. He gets through all of it right as Daichi is in Iwaizumi’s line. They make eye contact, and Y/N smiles at him.

“Your total is going to be—”

“I’ve already inserted my card,” she says, and he nods as he goes through the motions. That’s when Aran, his manager, appears behind him.

“Go on your lunch after this,” Aran says before looking at the woman with a dazzling smile. It’s the one he gives customers since it’s so forced, but from first glance, you wouldn’t realize that. “Ma’am, would you like a carryout today?”

She looks at Aran with wide eyes, probably not expecting to be spoken to by him. “Yes,” she says, and the word sounds slightly choked. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome,” Aran says before hurrying around to the other side of the register to help her and Y/N filling up her cart. As he does so, he speaks into the walkie talkie. “We need a carryout on register 14.”

Kiyoko comes up behind them, and Y/N quickly logs out so she can log in. He looks at Aran. “I’m going to lunch now. I’ll tell them to page someone when I pass customer service.”

“Bye, Iwaizumi-san,” Daichi says, and Y/N nearly runs into him at the end of the aisle. Daichi looks at him and smiles. “Hey there, stranger.”

Y/N smiles back, and he wants to hug him. He wants to pull him in close, even if it’d hurt a little. It’s okay because they’ll go home for a while, and he can take off his binder to breathe for a bit.

Instead, he looks down at the reusable bag Daichi always brings with him to the store. Y/N should be more like his boyfriend in that regard, but he finds that the plastic bags work just fine. He also doesn’t have to add another step when getting ready to go to the store.

“Hey there,” Y/N says as he looks back at Daichi. “Want to get out of here?”

“And cook you a meal while you breathe?” Daichi asks, and he’s smiling so hard it’s easy to hear in his voice. Y/N loves him. He loves him so much, and he wants to say it. Instead, he nods. “Count me in.”

“Alright, but I have to stop by customer service really fast,” Y/N says, and Daichi quickly glances behind them.

“Does she need a carryout?” he whispers, and Y/N laughs as he nods.

“Yes, and you’re not helping her, Mr. I-help-everyone-I-meet,” Y/N says, and Daichi rolls his eyes. He follows Y/N to customer service before they head out the door and Y/N waits for his phone to clock him out. Once it’s finished, he looks up at Daichi. “I’m free for an hour!”

Daichi grabs his hand and pulls him closer. “Then let’s get you home to relax.”

#haikyuu #haikyuu x male reader #haikyuu x reader #daichi x reader #daichi x male reader #sawamura daichi x reader #sawamura daichi x male reader

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rfxiii · 5 months

Note

Love your writing sm🩷 could you possibly write something for the main three with a artistic s/o like their home is covered in their work (specificly paintings)

(This is such a cute request! I can honestly see all of them being so enamored seeing their S/O’s art 💕)

TW: none

Trevor, Michael, and Franklin with an artistic S/O:

Trevor Philips:

He doesn’t understand a bit of it. But he loves it! He’s a fairly on the nose guy. If your art doesn’t practically spell out what you’re trying to say, he probably won’t get it. But he appreciates the effort you put toward it, nonetheless.

He’d love to do Jackson Pollock-esque splatter painting with you. Take him outside, set up some canvases, and just let him throw shit and make a mess of paint. You’ll both probably end up with more paint on yourselves than on the canvas.

Will criticize art you’ve bought like he’s a professional. He has no idea what he’s talking about, but he’s always so confident about it. But art you’ve made, he talks about it like it should be worth a million dollars.

Would absolutely be the “oh, you paint? Paint me then!” type of guy. He will not stop until you’ve at least done a small sketch of him.

Michael De Santa:

He has more appreciation for art and your artistic eye than Trevor. That being said, he still has no idea what he’s talking about. He’ll learn to parrot things you’ve said in passing though to fake like he gets it though.

Loves to sit back in silence and watch you draw/paint/etc. He could sit back for hours watching you with your whole focus on the canvas. He honestly thinks you’ve never looked more perfect than when you’re focused on something you love like this.

He takes note of any new project you’re working on, or any new additions to the collection of your works on the wall. He’s the first to point it out and compliment you on it.

He’ll buy you expensive paints, good canvases, the newest tablet if you’re into digital art. He’ll even try to get your art put up in galleries. He’s your biggest supporter, always.

Franklin Clinton:

He used to draw on his binders or in the margins of his pages during school, and he and Lamar used to do graffiti down at the tracks on the parked trains and on nearby abandoned buildings. He’s not as into art as you are. But he does have some talent and would love to work alongside you while you’re drawing/painting.

He’d ask to hang some of your paintings in his house. He puts them up in places where they’re the main focal point. It lets him brag to people who ask where he got them- then he can proudly say that you made it.

He’s actually really eager to learn from you. If you want to show him how to paint or draw, he’ll sit there for hours listening to you. But, he’ll want to return the favor by showing you how to do graffiti art.

He wouldn’t ask you to paint him. But he’s super handsome, so how could you not want to? So, even if you could just take his picture and paint him from that reference, he’ll offer to sit the whole time for you. He’d literally do anything you asked if it made you happy.

#gta v #gta 5 #grand theft auto v #grand theft auto 5 #trevor philips #michael de santa #franklin clinton #gta x reader #x reader #/reader #franklin clinton/reader #franklin clinton x reader #michael de santa/reader #michael de santa x reader #trevor philips/reader #trevor philips x reader

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vodika-vibes · 8 months

Text

Fox x Thief!Reader

Summary: After completely destroying your life, you go to the one place on Coruscant you feel safe.

Pairing: Commander Fox x Reader

Word Count: 1298

Warnings: Fluff, mentions of theft

Songs: None

A/N: Here you got @starrrgazingbunny I hope it's close to what you wanted, but I didn't want to make it too long.

Divider by saradika

You huff out a breath of annoyance as you haul yourself over the balcony, and drop your bag in the corner, where it can’t be seen if the owner of the apartment comes home while you’re raiding his fridge.

You’ve been a thief your whole life. Your earliest memory was of the man who raised you teaching you how to pick pockets, and how to tag marks for the rest of the crew.

But things have changed recently.

And the reason for the change can be laid at the feet of one man. Marshal Commander Fox, the head of the Coruscant Guard, is very good at what he does. He’s a stern, no-nonsense man, with a knack for tracking down criminals.

In fact, he’s had you in binders on more than one occasion, but has never managed to make anything stick. Much to his annoyance and your delight.

He’s never been cruel though. And you think he actually likes spending time with you. After all, why else would he personally interview you every time you get brought in, rather than leaving you to Thorn or Stone?

You like Fox. More than you should, seeing as he’s a cop and you’re most definitely not.

You check the door, and let out a noise of amusement as it slides open. A cop should know better than to leave the balcony door unlocked. Even if he does live on the 47th floor in his impossibly tall apartment building.

You grab your bag and toss it on his couch, taking a moment to peel off your shoes by the back door, and then you silently pad into Fox’s kitchen and open a cabinet. You grab a jar of peanut butter and a spoon and you plop yourself at his kitchen table.

There was a time, not so long ago, where you wouldn’t have had to worry about food.

But, well, things are different now.

You pause, your spoon halfway to your mouth, as the door slides open. You grimace but don’t bother trying to run, instead just finish shoving your spoon in your mouth.

Fox steps into the kitchen and stops. He stares at you for a moment, sighs, and sets his bag on the kitchen counter, “Sarad, how did you get into my apartment?”

“You left your balcony door unlocked,” You reply through a mouth full of peanut butter, “Dangerous, you should know better.”

He leans against the counter, “I live on the 47th flood, Sarad.”

“Yeah, I know. I didn’t say it was easy to get to,”

He rolls his eyes, and walks over to you, just to tug the jar of peanut butter out of your hands, “Why are you eating my food?”

“Because I’m hungry,” You answer, as if it is the most obvious thing ever, which, really, it is. You reach for the jar, only for him to hold it out of reach.

“Okay,” He sounds annoyed, “Why did you break into my apartment to eat my food rather than buying something?”

Because I have no money. Because the crew kicked me out. Because I’m trying to be a better person. Because I want you to stop looking at me like I’m a criminal. “I don’t believe in capitalism.” You say, instead of the truth.

“I assure you it’s real.” Fox counters dryly.

“...Well, maybe it shouldn’t be.” You reply.

He snorts out a laugh, and walks back across the apartment, storing the peanut butter back in the cabinet, and then he pins you in place with a piercing gaze, “Maybe not. But you wanna try telling me the truth this time?”

“...how do you know I’m not telling the truth?” You ask sullenly.

“Because I know you, Sarad. After two years, I’d better. Now, the truth. Please.” Fox prods.

You fold your arms, and glare at him, and he stares evenly back. And your shoulders slump, “I don’t have any money.” You admit.

“A thief without any money?” Fox asks with a raised brow, “What, did your crew cut you off or-” He stops when you shrink in on yourself, “...they did.”

“I don’t want to talk about it.” You grumble.

He crosses the kitchen again and he sits next to you at the table, “Sarad, your crew owned the apartment you were living in.”

“...I’m aware.”

“Did they kick you out of your apartment?” He asks, his voice very gentle.

“...It’s fine. The apartment had rats, you know.” You reply, without meeting his gaze.

“Where are you staying, Sarad?” His gaze drifts to the small backpack sitting on the couch, and a muscle in his jaw twitches, “Is it safe?”

You absently spin the spoon you’re still holding, “There’s a refugee camp in the works, and I’ve been staying there for the last couple of days. But-” But it’s not safe, not for someone like you. A criminal. “But I was told I should probably not come back.” You admit.

“Why?”

You don’t answer for a long time, “The Crew,” You finally say, “Didn’t kick me out, so much as I cut ties with them. And they’re not happy about it.”

Fox leans back in his seat, his eyes scanning your face, “You know, I never thought you would willingly leave them, Sarad. What changed?”

“Got tired of you looking at me like I’m nothing more than a criminal.” You admit, after a very long silence. You can’t meet his eyes, instead your gaze is locked on the table.

Fox doesn’t say anything for a really long time. Long enough that you take a chance to glance up at him. He looks stunned. And then his expression shifts to something else. A look you’ve never seen before on his face.

“What do you want for dinner?” He asks.

“...what?”

“Food. What kind of food do you want?”

“Uh…pizza, I guess.” You answer, “Fox, what are you-?”

“My apartment is big enough for two people, but we’ll have to share the bed, and the shower.” He continues, as if you hadn’t spoken, “And I can help you get a job in the Guard, if you’re willing.”

You stare at him blankly, “Fox, what are you talking about?” You ask.

He shoots you a look of amusement, “I’m offering to let you move in. It’ll have to be a partnership, though. And I’ll want you to pay half the rent and groceries when you start getting a proper paycheck.”

“You don’t have to- I mean, there’s a homeless shelter-”

“Will you be safe in a homeless shelter?”

“I…no. Probably not.” You admit.

“Then you can move in. We’ll have to tell people that we’re dating, but, well-” He smirks, “That’s not that much of a hardship.” He stands and grabs your bag off the couch, “We’ll go shopping for more clothes and other things you need tomorrow.” He grabs his datapad and hands it to you, “Order some food for us, will you Sarad.”

“...okay.”

He smiles at you, “Don’t worry, we’ll figure it out, Sarad.”

“...thank you, Fox.”

His smile widens, “You know, you’ve never been just a criminal to me, Sarad. Why do you think I never let Thorn interview you?”

“I thought it was because you liked getting under his skin.” You reply blandly.

“Oh, that too. But also because I like talking to you. And looking at you. And listening to you.” Fox winks at you and your face burns, “Order our pizza, Sarad. I’ll be right back.”

You look down at the datapad and start the order, your face is still burning, but you have a small smile on your lips. For the first time since you completely torpedoed your life, you feel like maybe you’ll be able to land on your feet. With the able assistance of Commander Fox, of course.

#star wars #tcw #star wars fanfiction #commander fox x reader #fox x reader #x reader fanfiction

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honeybear-yammy · 2 years

Text

Study Buddy

Warnings: cursing, mentions of drug use, oral sex

Pairings: Maddy Perez x Female Reader

Summary: In which Maddy and Y/N get partnered up for a project at school but, when Y/N comes to Maddy's place to work, things take a turn.

Character: Maddy Perez (played by Alexa Demie)

Show: Euphoria

You pulled into the driveway at Maddy's place. She had invited you to come over to work on the project together so, you decided to come. You got out of your car and locked it then walked up and knocked. Maddy opened the door and smiled.

"Hey Y/N." She said.

"Hi Maddy.." You smiled a little. You followed Maddy as she walked back inside. You felt weird to be here. You were not friends with Maddy but you saw her around all the time at school. She was so pretty and you honestly wanted so badly to be her friend, or more than that.

You were always just way too awkward to talk to her but now that your teacher partnered you up with her, you thought this would be a good chance to get to know her and hopefully become her friend. She led you to her room and opened the door. You walked in first and she followed behind you before closing the door.

"So, are you ready to get to work?" You asked.

"Well obviously. That's why I invited you over here." Maddy said with a chuckle.

"I- right.." You chuckled awkwardly. She sat down on her bed and you just stood there awkwardly. She looked at you and corked her brow. You locked eyes with her but then looked away and looked out the window.

"Y'know you can sit down, right?" Maddy asked.

"I- uh- yeah.. sorry." You mumbled as you sat down. You were suppose to try to be her friend, not be socially awkward. You felt so stupid. You tried to push past your embarrassment and got started on the project with her.

"Well, we have been working on this for awhile. I think we should take a break." Maddy said.

"Okay." You nodded and put the text books away along with your binder. "So, what should we do?" You asked.

"Something fun." She said.

"I- like what?" You laughed. Maddy sat there thinking for a moment. You were hoping that she would not bring drugs up. That was not your thing at all and you had no interest in taking part in that type of stuff. You knew that she did that type of stuff so, you were just worried that drugs was going to be her idea of fun.

"I have an idea." Maddy said with a giggle and smirked.

"Okay, what is it?" You asked.

"Well, before I tell you... I have a question." She said.

"Okay, shoot." You said.

"Are you single?" She asked. You blinked, super shocked that she would ask you about that. On top of that you were shocked that she even cared.

"I- what does that have to do with what we are going to do?" You asked.

"Just answer the question Y/N." Maddy chuckled.

"Well, yes I am single." You said.

"Mm.. good." She said with a giggle.

"But why did you want to kn-" Before you could finish your sentence, Maddy giggled and gently pushed you down onto your back on her bed. You were shocked at what she was doing.

"I- what are you doing?" You asked nervously.

"Well... I want to eat you out and see how fast I can make you cum." She said with a giggle. You were so shocked at what you were hearing right now but, you couldn't lie, you did love what you were hearing.

"If that is okay with you." She said. You laid there for a minute in shock before you spoke.

"I- yeah.. it's more than okay." You said biting your lip. Maddy smirked and then pushed your skirt up and pulled off your thong. She spread your legs. You felt both nervous and excited about what she was about to do to you.

She ran a finger through your folds and smirked.

"Mm.. you're so wet for me already, you must have been wet for awhile now." She said smirking. You felt your cheeks heat up and you bit your lip before looking away. Seeing your reaction just made Maddy smirk more.

She then licked a long strip up your folds making you gasp and bite your lip more. Right after that she dived right in. You moaned out and your hands flew to her hair, your fingers tangling in her raven black hair.

She smirked and kept going as you pulled her even closer to your pussy. You loved the feeling that she was giving you. You had been eaten out many times before but, no one could ever do it as good as she was doing it right now.

Maddy began to suck on your clit before she slid one finger into you without warning. You gasped and threw your head back, moaning out louder. You were lucky that you and Maddy were the only ones in the house since you were being so loud.

When you had first arrived at Maddy's and you were so awkward, you honestly regretted agreeing to come over, but now, you were so fucking glad that you did come over. She was able to make you feel so fucking good with just her tongue and now with her finger too.

She then slid a second finger inside your tight hole. You gasped louder and moaned out even louder. With every thrust, she went faster and faster still sucking on your clit. You tugged on her hair gently as she slid a third finger into you making your eyes roll.

You felt a knot bubbling in your stomach and you knew you were gonna cum. You clenched around her fingers, signaling to her that you were going to cum.

"Mm.. you love this don't you?" Maddy asked with a smirk.

"Fuck yes!" You moaned out.

"Such a little whore for me." She said with a smirk as she thrusted her fingers into you harder. "Are you gonna cum?" She asked. You nodded quickly. She smirked and got an idea.

"Beg for it." She said.

"God please let me cum Maddy! Please!" You moaned out.

"Okay, come on, cum for me." She said. With that your eyes rolled back, your legs began to tremble and a scream tore through your throat as you squirted onto Maddy's fingers and tongue. She smirked and she sat up, looking at the mess you made.

"Damn, who knew she was a squirter." She said with a smirk. You face got as red as a tomato and you bit your lip looking away. "Don't be embarrassed, it was... super fucking hot." Maddy said. You looked back at her and she gave you a smile.

You smiled back at her before she crawled up to you and planted a kiss onto your lips. You smiled and kissed back. You came here to try to become friends with Maddy or even just be her study buddy but, now looks more like you were fuck buddies.

a/n: This was my first fic of Maddy so, I hope I did good! I hope y'all enjoyed!

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yxngbxkkie · 1 year

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secret secret (y.j)

so, my lovely @thewxntersoldier made this moodboard, and it inspired me to write this fashion designer au 🤭 i hope you guys enjoy it! i think it's pretty cute ❤️‍🩹🫶🏻

You drink the scalding hot chocolate from your mug, humming a bit as you stare down at the design you're working on. After setting the mug down, you rest your chin against the palm of your hand.

"Why doesn't this look right?" You ask yourself with a sigh. You set your pencil down and lean back, cracking your back with the chair.

You decided to stay late at the office, wanting to work on your project without having your roommate up your ass. You're working on the last piece for the summer collection, but you're just not feeling it.

"Y/N?" Jeongin's voice softly calls out your name, startling you.

You twist around in your chair, seeing your friend and fellow co-worker standing in the doorway. "Jeongin, you scared me," you chuckle with a hand over your heart. "What are you doing here?"

"There's a fashion show coming up, so I was working on getting things ready for that," he mentions while stepping further into the room.

"Ah, yes. Pace's very first show. Are you excited? I bet Hyunjin is," you smile.

Jeongin hums in agreement as he sits down beside you. You grab your mug again, taking a longer sip from it. "It's all he can talk about, honestly," he laughs, his eyes looking over your design. "This is cute."

"You really think so? I'm not sure about it," you slump in your chair, shifting your gaze towards the sketch.

"No, it's definitely cute," he reassures you while grabbing the piece of paper. "I would choose a different color, though."

You scoot your chair closer to Jeongin, looking down at the design. "Is it too dark? I know the other outfits are a brighter color. Doesn't really match the same vibe," you mention and lift yourself from your chair before grabbing the other designs.

You grab the binder that sits on your desk, bringing it back to the table Jeongin's sitting at. His eyes glance towards you as you sit back down, opening it to show him what you have.

"This is what I have for the other pieces. And, I knew there wasn't something right about this one," you spread out your finished designs before pointing back to the one you're still working on.

Jeongin looks through your other designs, and you keep your eyes on him, trying to judge what he's thinking. He hums, nodding his head as he turns the page.

"Yeah, so, I personally would match the colors. I've noticed a lot of people really enjoy a collection that has a theme of sorts," he explains to you, his gaze meeting yours.

"Okay, yeah, I can do that," you smile at him. He pushes your binder back towards you before standing up from his seat. "Thank you for the advice, Innie. I appreciate it."

He waves his hand, a shy grin coming to his lips. "Oh, it's nothing. I know how dedicated you are to your work," Jeongin shrugs his shoulders.

"That's true, but your eye for fashion is… incredible," you laugh, gesticulating.

"Come on, stop," Jeongin almost whines, hiding his face in his hands.

Your heart flutters at his bashfulness, reaching a hand out to him. You smile fondly at the dark-haired man, getting out of your chair before wrapping your fingers around his wrist.

"It's the truth, Innie," you whisper, your faces inches away from each other.

Jeongin lifts his gaze, and your breath hitches in your throat when you lock eyes. Butterflies swarm around your stomach before you look away. You clear your throat while taking a step back, feeling your cheeks blush.

"It's getting late. I should really get going," you change the subject, tucking some hair behind your ears. "I'll see you in the morning."

After gathering your stuff up quickly, you walk towards the elevator when Jeongin calls out your name. You stop in your tracks to look back at him.

"Let me walk you home," he offers, catching up to you.

"Okay," you comply without hesitation, providing the taller man a small smile. "Oh - I don't want it to be out of your way, though. If anything, I can get a taxi or something."

Jeongin laughs and he shakes his head. "I overheard you talk to Felix about your apartment building one day. It's actually quite close to mine, so it's okay," he mentions as the two of you enter the elevator.

"Do you work tomorrow?" You ask him while stepping out of the elevator.

"I do," Jeongin laughs, running a hand through his hair. "I have a fashion show to prepare for, remember?"

You snap your fingers and let out an "ah!" The wind blows through your hair as you both walk down the street together. "What's your coffee order? I'll bring you one when I come in."

"Oh, you don't have to do that," Jeongin shakes his head, trying to dismiss the idea.

"Come on," you drag out, grabbing a hold of his arm. "It's the least I can do. I mean, you're walking me home."

You smile sweetly at him, giving him your best puppy-eyed look. "You're not going to take no for an answer, are you?" He asks with a shy chuckle, diverting his gaze to the ground.

"Nope!"

"Y/N?" Hyunjin calls out your name, causing you to lift your head. You hum in answer, pausing what you're doing. The tall brunette comes into the room with a Starbucks drink in his hand. "This is for you."

You furrow your brows as you take the pink drink from him. "I didn't order anything," you mention with a frown, setting the plastic cup on the table.

"Jeongin got it for you," he states with a slight smirk, leaning his hands on the table. "The two of you have been close lately."

You roll your eyes at Hyunjin before going back to sewing. "I told him I'd bring coffee one morning, and ever since then, we've been bringing each other drinks," you explain to him while finishing up the shirt you're designing.

"You two would be cute together," he suggests.

"We are not going to discuss my love life, Hyune," you laugh, taking a quick glance towards him. "Innie and I are just friends."

Your boss hums and pushes himself up, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well, if the two of you ever decide to be more than friends. You have my permission," Hyunjin winks before patting your shoulder.

"Get out of here," you joke with him, swatting your hand at him. Hyunjin laughs and avoids your attack.

He leaves you alone again, and you take a deep breath. You grab the pink drink from beside you before looking at the little sticker on it.

For my gorgeous designer <3

Your cheeks blush, and you can't help but smile. "Oh, you're cute," you whisper to yourself before taking a sip. You hum in delight, nodding your head as you set the drink back down.

You grab your phone and pull up your and Jeongin's messages.

To: Innie 🫶🏻

Thank you for the drink, handsome! 🥹 You didn't have to

It doesn't take long for him to respond, your phone vibrating only a minute later.

From: Innie 🫶🏻

You're welcome, gorgeous! 💓 I know I didn't have to, but I saw Starbucks, and I know just how much you like pink drinks 🤭

You giggle to yourself after reading his message, feeling like you're back in high school with how much you adore him.

To: Innie 🫶🏻

Ugh, you're too kind. What would I do without you?! Oh, BTW, Hyunjin said that we'd be cute together.

From: Innie 🫶🏻

Did he now? You're not upset about keeping us on the dl for now, are you?

To: Innie 🫶🏻

No, no, absolutely not. I know you wanted to wait until the fashion show was complete. I totally understand, and I don't mind keeping you to myself 😘

"Okay, good," Jeongin's voice echoes off the walls, causing you to jump in your seat.

You place a hand on your chest, narrowing your eyes at the dark-haired man. "What is with you scaring the shit out of me?" You huff, leaning back in your chair.

Jeongin laughs and places his hands on your shoulders. You look at him with a smile on your lips, and he looks around quickly before kissing your forehead.

"How's it going?" He asks you, his hands gently rubbing your arms.

You hum before sitting up straight. "It's going well. I'm about halfway done with creating the initial designs," you tell him, spinning in your chair.

His eyes stay on you as you get out of your chair, walking towards the mannequins on the other side of the room.

"Oh, is that it?" Jeongin asks while following you.

"Yeah! What do you think Mr. Stylist?" You ask him with a proud grin.

Jeongin drags his fingers along the pieces you made. "I like them. They're very… you," he mentions. "Can I see them on you?"

A laugh leaves your lips as you glance towards Jeongin. "You wanna see them on me? Why?" You ask curiously.

"I just want to see how they'd look on the most beautiful girl," he flirts, sending you a wink.

Your cheeks blush and you turn your head, looking away from him. "Oh, shut up," you mumble loud enough for him to hear, getting flustered.

"Come on," Jeongin presses, grabbing a hold of your hand. "Felix isn't here today so my office is free."

You wet your lips before looking back towards your designs. "Fine, but I'm only trying one of them on," you cave, looking up at your boyfriend.

"Can I pick?" He asks with a slight smirk.

You motion your hands towards your designs, silently telling him to go ahead. His smile widens before taking a step closer to the mannequins.

After Jeongin takes a few minutes to look each outfit over, he finally points to the one he likes best. "I like this one," he mentions while looking back at the dress. "I feel like it'd highlight your curves well."

"You think so?" You ask with flushed cheeks, moving to take the outfit off the mannequin.

He hums in response, gliding his hand across your lower back. "Oh, absolutely. Trust the Stylist, okay?" He jokes with you.

You giggle, hugging the outfit to your chest. "Okay," you whisper as the two of you leave your office space.

Both of you quickly walk to Jeongin's office, as a few of your fellow designers bid you goodnight. You smile and wave to them before you walk into his large office.

Jeongin closes the door behind him. "The dressing room is straight through the curtains," he informs you.

"Okay," you whisper, feeling a bit nervous. "Is it weird that I'm nervous?"

You turn to face him, standing right in front of the closed curtain. "Why are you nervous?" He asks with sincere brows. "Are you uncomfortable with doing this? Don't feel the need to do this for my sake."

"No, no, I'm not uncomfortable," you reassure him with a shake of your head. "I've just… I've never put my own designs on before."

Jeongin walks over to you before taking your face in his hands. "Do you want to?" You nod your head briefly. "Okay then. There's nothing to be nervous about. I'm quite obsessed with you."

You let out a snort. "Shut up," you mumble embarrassingly. Jeongin takes a quick glance towards the door before placing a short kiss on your lips.

"It's the truth. Now, go," he laughs, lightly pushing you past the curtains.

You smile widely and lean your forehead against the storage door beside you. He's so cute. You think to yourself before starting to undress.

While you're changing, someone knocks on Jeongin's office door. You pick your head up and stay quiet as Jeongin answers it. "Hey, Hyunjin," he greets his friend.

"Hey, have you seen Y/N? I want to make sure she's not staying too late again," he asks out of concern.

Your heart flutters, feeling grateful to have a boss and friend like Hyunjin. "I think she already left. I saw her leaving a bit ago," Jeongin lied to him.

"Okay, great. Oh, hey, I think you should ask her out," Hyunjin mentions, causing your cheeks to turn pink.

You tune out their conversation and focus on quietly changing into the outfit. You check yourself out in the mirror, feeling a bit flabbergasted.

"Y/N?" Jeongin's voice snaps you out of your thoughts. "Are you done?"

"Yeah!" You call out to him.

The curtain opens up, and Jeongin steps into the changing room. His eyes lit up at the sight of you. "Wow," he whispers, and you watch his gaze roam down your figure. "This looks incredible on you."

You fiddle with the skirt of the dress, smiling widely. "You think so?" You ask him, twirling around.

"Absolutely," he sighs contently, reducing the distance between the two of you. "You think you can make another so you can keep this?"

"Oh, I don't know," you tease him, feeling his hands rest on your hips. "I'll have to talk to the designer."

He smirks, leaning his face into your neck. "I can put in a good word," he giggles before gently kissing your neck.

"You can?! Well, that's good," you giggle some more.

Jeongin trails his lips up your neck, placing light kisses on your face. You scrunch your nose before kissing him, your hands going into his hair.

"How about you walk me home, lover boy?" You hum, nudging your nose against his.

"I can do that."

tagging: @thewxntersoldier @reddesert-healourblues @spacegirlstuff @foxinnie8 @moon0fthenight

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wild-karrde · 9 months

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hi Karrde!!! Congratulations on 800, you deserve every single one and more 🤩 you’re so talented and a bright, bold member of our community. The way you care for your characters, and how amazing your OCs are just blows me away!

If I’ve made it in before 20, can I request a ficlet please?

Fox + “what did you think was going to happen?”

Congratulations again 💙💙

AHHHHH THANK YOU SEV!!! YOU ARE TOO KIND AND I AM JUST GRINNING LIKE A FIEND!! Seriously, thank you SO MUCH for the kind words! I'm glad I can make some positive contributions!

I struggled with this one for a bit, but had a sudden idea that I wound up liking A LOT. I hope you do too!

Pairing: Commander Fox x gn!Reader

Rating: T

Warnings: language, some suggestive themes, Fox telling jokes

Word Count: 1.5k words

Your heart thunders in your ears as you race down the alley, already leaping for the chain link fence that blocks off the end of it, fingers digging into the metal to pull yourself up and over. Heavy footfalls slap the pavement behind you, and you tuck and roll as the duracrete on the other side of the fence breaks your fall. You slam into a trash bin, skinning your knees and bruising your shoulders. You’re already pushing yourself to your feet when you see a switch just to the left of the fence.

Bingo.

You scramble over to it, slapping on the power, and you hear the electricity in the links hum to life, making them glow and effectively cutting off your pursuers. A red light comes on at the top of the fence, warning anyone around that it’s electrified now, and that they should only touch the fence at their own peril. You kick a half-eaten fruit that had tumbled from the trash bin at it, and it sizzles satisfyingly when it makes contact with the fence. You grin as the familiar voice of a Coruscant Guard echoes down the alley from the direction you came from.

“STOP!”

Three Corries skid to a halt on the opposite side of the fence.

“I think she’s activated it sir,” one of the troopers states.

He’s new.

“Oh, are you sure, Brick? Was the big fucking red light your first clue?” snarls the commander sarcastically, the telltale wings on his helmet glinting in the glow of the fence.

You extend your middle finger haughtily as you back away from the fence. “Eat shit, Thorn!” You can’t help but grin to yourself as you round the corner. You hear him swear through his vocoder as you trot out of view.

The bracelet that you’ve swiped off of one of the senators jingles in your pocket as you pull out the credit pouch you snatched off of her husband and begin tallying your score. You’re so absorbed in counting your credits that you don’t even notice the wall of red and white plastoid standing in front of you until you slam face-first into it. You fall backwards onto your ass, the credits bouncing across the pavement with a light tinkling noise as you stare up into the familiar visor of Commander Fox. His arms are crossed over his chest.

He sighs, muttering your name under his breath. You grin.

“Fancy meeting you here, Commander,” you tease.

“Not as fancy as that jewelry poking out of your pocket,” he growls.

“Oh this? I just picked this up for my uhhh grandmother. It’s her birthday tomorrow, and you know, she just loves her jewels," you lie, shoving the bracelet back in your pocket. He doesn’t move as he watches you clumsily try to scoop some of the credits back into the pouch.

“Am I to assume that credit pouch is for your grandmother also?”

“Yup. You know. In case she wants to get something else if the bracelet isn’t her style.”

“How nice of you to get it monogrammed for her with Senator Siil’s husband’s initials,” he says flatly.

You wince as you finally note the flowery Aurebesh branded into the leather. “Grandma’s a uh… big fan of his work. As a senator's husband.”

Fox leans down and offers you a hand, which you take. Like an idiot. He pulls you up before spinning you and pushing you against the wall, slapping a pair of binders on you. You tug at the restraints behind your back, shooting a glare over your shoulder.

“Oh, come on, Fox!”

He spins you around. “What did you think was going to happen? That I was going to pat you on the ass and let you wander off to shake more people down?”

You shrug, tongue poking between your teeth. “I mean, if you want to pat my ass, I wouldn’t be that opposed.”

You can’t see his eyes, but you can practically hear them rolling in their sockets beneath his bucket.

“You’re unbelievable.”

“And you find it endearing.”

He scoffs. “Not the word I’d choose.” His hand clamps around your forearm as he starts to guide you out of the winding network of alleys. You walk slowly, dragging your last moments of freedom out. You’ve always enjoyed your chats with Fox on the way back to the station anyway, at least before he books you on a petty crime and sends you to lockup for a week or two. You’re pretty sure he likes your interactions too, as much as he’ll deny it. But he isn’t rough with you, and he's not making any effort to rush your pace. That’s all just you speculating though; his bucket does a good job of hiding what he’s actually thinking, which you suspect is the point.

You walk in silence for a few minutes, and you feel his grip on your arm loosen slightly. He knows you won’t run; you know when you’re caught.

“So, Thorn’s gotten slower,” you note casually.

He huffs what you think might be a laugh. Hard to tell with the way the helmet's vocoder alters his voice.

“I’m serious," you insist. "Maybe tell him to lay off the beer and work more cardio into his routine.”

“I’ll be sure to pass your feedback along.”

“Was that a joke, Commander?”

“Been trying them out every now and then.”

You can’t help but snicker at that.

The silence resumes for a few more minutes, but this time, he’s the one to break it.

“Why do you always come here to pickpocket? You know we’re all over the place with all of the rich assholes walking around. The marks may be high-reward, but you can find plenty of Coruscant’s most wealthy in the lower levels, sleazing it up with less savory types. You'd probably have a better shot at getting away too.”

“Thanks for the tip,” you snipe. “I’ll be sure to keep it in mind for my future criminal endeavors.”

His grip on your arm tightens enough to stop you. “I’m serious,” he says, the exasperation in his voice clear. He shakes his head before raising his visor to look at you. “Look, things are starting to get a little more harsh up here. With the level of petty crime increasing as the war goes on and who it's impacting the most, there’s a push to start doling out harsher punishments. You’re going to land yourself more than a week in lock-up if you keep adding to your record. I’m talking years in prison.”

You wish you could see under his helmet right now. You’re studying his visor carefully, looking for any sign as to what’s led to this concern for your well-being.

“I like it up here,” you reply.

“Why?”

You shrug, trying to hide the heat in your cheeks. “I don’t know. Maybe I hope I’ll get to see more of a certain commander when he arrests me.”

“Thorn hates you, just so you know.”

“I’m not talking about–”

“I know. That was another joke.”

You stare at him blankly for a moment before you burst out laughing loudly. You could swear some of the tension leaves Fox’s shoulders as he watches you, his helmet tilting to one side.

“That’s good. You’re getting good, Fox.”

He nods, and you think he might be a little proud. His fingers flex nervously at his sides. “You said it was Thorn that lost you?”

“Yeah him and a couple of shinies. Why?”

You can see Fox considering something, something that makes him nervous, something wildly out of character for him. He reaches forward, spinning you to face away from him, and you feel the binders click loose. You bring your hands to your front, rubbing your wrists as you whirl to face the commander of the Coruscant Guard, who’s tucking his binders back on his belt.

“What the fuck are you doing?” you ask, completely gobsmacked.

He shrugs. “Thorn cheated at sabacc last week and still won’t own up to it. I like the idea of being able to hold this over his head and give him shit about it.”

“Won’t you get in trouble?”

“Only if you keep standing here talking to me.”

You grin, stepping forward and standing on tiptoe so that you can boldly place a kiss on his bucket. You pat the side of it as though it were his cheek. “Thanks, Fox.”

His hand catches yours as you step away. “If you really want to see more of me,” he says quietly, “just come to the 79s and ask me on a date. Less paperwork and binders involved that way.”

"But what if I like the binders?"

"I save those for at least the second date," he deadpans.

Heat flushes across your face at his offer. You poke a finger into his chest plate, trying to recover your footing with him. “Fine, but you’re buying.”

He tosses you the credit pouch, which you clumsily catch. “Nope. The Senator’s husband is. But I’d get rid of that monogrammed pouch.”

You playfully salute him. “Yes, sir.”

He nods again before turning on his heel, disappearing into Coruscant’s fading light.

Thanks for participating in my 800 Follower Celebration!

Tag List: @seriowan @partoftheeternalsoul @rosmariner @misogirl828 @ellichonkasaurusrex @the-sith-in-the-sky-with-diamond @gjrain20-starwars @staycalmandhugaclone @redheadgirl @fordo-kixed-rex @wizardofrozz @ariadnes-red-thread @extrahotpixels @justanothersadperson93 @leftealeaf @kmeekaielmyerhs99 @kaminocasey @echos-girlfriend @lucyysthings @obihiddlenox @merkitty49 @littlemissmanga @clonecyaree @baba-fett @sleepingsun501 @rexxdjarin @samspenandsword @babygirlrex0504 @ladytano420 @fxlsealarm @runforrestr @rennyboo9 @djarrex @corrieguards @the-cantina @witchklng @gelflet @wolffegirlsunite @teletraan-meets-jarvis @rain-on-kamino @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @hidden-behind-the-fourth-wall

#karrde writes #800 follower celebration #follower celebration #commander fox #commander fox x reader #commander fox x you #commander thorn #coruscant guard

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