#i didn't mean to go on a rant about it here in the tags but i wanted it to be clear that i don't hate the guy without reason

[technically-human]

Hi! So I was scrolling through the dbda tags on Tumblr after seeing someone I follow reblog things from the tag; and all the art, gifs, etc. there made me curious about the show (though kind of especially your art). So I decided to look for some clips on YouTube and... spoilers... but I saw the last scene in which they hugged... and like I said, I've only recently been exposed to fan-made stuff about the show, so I didn't think I was particularly invested in the show... but that scene literally made me break down lmao. Seeing Charles stare at his hand after hugging Edwin? I was going insane. It could also be due to not getting enough sleeping, but I was legit sobbing while ranting to a random spider (the house is empty and my dogs are sleeping lol) about how that scene mirrors the scene in which Edwin realized he was in love... I wrote a two page rant. I don't even know if it's really even accurate or if I'm just making random assumptions based on fan-made art.

So now, now idk what to do- I mean, I'm definitely going to watch the show after getting some rest but like, any advice? (on how to be chill and normal about the show?) and sorry about the long ask, I'm jusy very unwell rn.

I'm very glad you have found the show, it seems like you will like it.

That particular scene truly is something else, huh? I mean, I would be completely willing to accept Charles doesn't reciprocate Edwin's feeling if not for that small detail. It is so subtle but so, so important. I'm sure the spider you ranted to agrees (and it's funny it was a spider, considering... Well, you'll see)

To be honest, if I knew how to be chill and normal about this show... Well, I still wouldn't be. But luckily, you have a lot of people here who are just the same!

To enjoy this show, I think I would advice... If you're the kind of person who cries while watching shows, have some water and tissues ready for all episodes. You never know what small detail might thrill or sadden you, and this show has a lot of them if you watch closely enough. And have someone to share your rambling with! If the spider is too busy, you can always tell me, I would love to hear your thoughts as you watch! :)

[imerian]

My (very old) loscar brooch (?) that i just now made doodles for

More pictures under cut

[neil-neil-orange-peel]

I love reading your asks, so I wanted to ask you if you had any favorite female characters from Rik and Ade projects?

Helloooo! Thank you, that's so sweet. ❤️ Let's see... I'm going to single out some TYO characters specifically and then talk more generally. This post is absolutely going to become a big, incoherent mess. 😂

Sue from Sociology is my favourite minor TYO character. Don't get me wrong, I love Helen the Murderess too, but there's something that draws me to Sue. To be fair, I'm just seriously weak for Jennifer Saunders in general, and she's basically done up as a female Rick here, if Rick was actually cool. I like inserting her into fanfic sometimes (okay, once... but I have plans). She's very much a background character for the majority of Interesting, but Interesting itself is one of the first (and only, possibly the only?) time there are lots of women in a TYO scene at once, even if they're not getting to do much. Shout out to Dawn's Christian who gets crushed by the gigantic sandwich too, of course! (As an aside, I find it funny that both Jennifer and Dawn got to strangle/smother Mike on the sofa on different occasions.)

Vyvyan's mum. Pauline Melville pops up a couple of other times in TYO as well, and she's just very good whenever she does. I believe she gave French & Saunders a bit of guidance when they were all on the standup circuit. Vyv's mum is a great character because she's just SO awful. Let female characters be awful! She's so spiky and sharp in every way, and she's probably the only semi-developed female character who appears on the show. I think letting the audience meet her gives Vyvyan a bit of texture and depth - sure, we could imagine any family background for any of them, but we're being told THIS HERE is Vyvyan's. Poor Vyv. Pauline Melville herself, of course, is a prize-winning writer now! The dream.

The devil and her condemned soul is one of my favourite TYO cutaway segments. The condemned soul is Helen Atkinson-Wood, who is most well-known for playing Mrs Miggins in Blackadder the Third. She also has a small role in the Comic Strip episode Consuela (and possibly others, but I looked up the cast list to that one yonks ago because it's my favourite). I wonder if Lise wrote this sketch, considering the subject matter. Either way, Dawn and Helen's delivery is great, especially the faux discrete way Dawn says "period pains". I hope it put stuffy men's heckles up.

Aside from TYO, Jen and Dawn were often the only female presence in the Comic Strip episodes, particularly the earlier ones. Of the first two series, Dawn wrote Summer School and Jen wrote Slags - neither were standout episodes of their series, the kind often recalled today, but with Slags especially, the female characters within them were given more agency and stake in the plot than usual. Jen played five different characters in Happy Families in 1985 - a little gem written by Ben and also starring Ade.

I'd like to give a little shout out to Helen Lederer, who popped up a lot in Rik and Ade's - and French & Saunders' - comic output, while never really being given her own opportunity to shine on TV. Oh, and I'd also like to give a shout out to Marsha Fitzalan, who played Sarah B'Stard in The New Statesman - she did such a good job of playing an intensely flawed, funny female character. There are countless male characters who are basically terrible people - I mean, Alan B'Stard for one - and it's vital women are also allowed to be that awful in comedy.

Comedy has always been a pretty male sphere. Even these days, there are definitely still men Ricky Gervais who believe women can't be funny. Misogyny is still massively prevalent in society. Male comics attract female attention; female comics attract male abuse. That's a simplification and generalisation, of course, but it's broadly true. And I don't see younger generations of men getting better with this, to be honest. Actually, I see them getting worse (thanks, Andrew Tate). Sorry to be all doom and gloom!

When Rik and Ade started out in comedy, women getting to play characters other than wives or the like - that is, straight characters and caricatures there largely for the male characters to bounce off of for their laughs - was still uncommon. Despite the existence of successful female comics across the pond like Lucille Ball, and beloved 1970s sitcom The Good Life having a main cast split evenly gender-wise (I know Richard Briers technically had first credit, but Penelope Keith as Margo Leadbetter was absolutely the funniest of the four of them), there was a genuine belief that women couldn't (and maybe shouldn't) be doing comedy.

Women like Victoria Wood were pushing boundaries in important ways around the time of the alternative comedy boom by writing specifically about women (and, quite often, northern women - which I personally think is important, since Last of the Summer Wine had such a chokehold on portraying almost all of its female characters as ostensibly the same). Her sitcom dinnerladies was both melancholic and hilarious. Her sketch shows and other comic output, quite often featuring Julie Walters (her friend and muse), Celia Imrie, and many others, were all written entirely by her. She was also a gifted pianist and wrote several comic songs.

All of this is to say, Victoria Wood definitely helped pave the way for French & Saunders. She even referred to herself as an alternative comedian in her material. But honestly, I don't think it was until much later that women stopped being regularly restricted to straight roles in comedies created by men (which, of course, most comedies were). This was part of why Absolutely Fabulous, written by Jen, was such a breath of fresh air in the 1990s. For once, every single major character was a woman - men were the scarcity! And Jen has mentioned before that producers would constantly pressure her to write more roles for men. Meanwhile, we can observe that Girls on Top (dubbed the female TYO, which is... sort of true and sort of not), which Dawn and Jen starred in with Ruby Wax and Tracey Ullman in the 1980s, isn't very well-known today. I'm not 100% sure how well it was received at the time, but clearly it wasn't as popular as TYO had been before it. Ruby Wax and Tracey Ullman have both also had successful careers in comedy, but I'd argue that's mainly thanks (particularly in Tracy's case) to opportunities in America.

So I'm not saying women never got to be the funny (also I'm just talking about the UK), but the fact is: if your comedy has a completely/majority male cast, with women only popping up in supporting roles or in guest appearances, it's obvious which characters are going to be better developed, more beloved, and just funnier. I mean, even the Vicar of Dibley, which was obviously written for Dawn and showcases her comic prowess, features a supporting cast of funny men (there was also Emma Chambers as Alice and Liz Smith as Leticia - before she was killed off - but the women were outnumbered by the men). I get that this perhaps fits with the idea of a tiny, slightly backwards village in Oxfordshire - and the fact Geraldine was a female vicar shocking these men was very important to the premise - but still.

We know certain men just REALLY struggle at writing women, too, so they've either done a really bad job or just avoided trying altogether. I do have an example for this, but I don't want to name them since I do love the show they created - it's just, y'know, writing women is definitely not their strong suit! And I'm really not trying to poo poo any shows here by pointing this out. I'm just making observations. All of these comedies I'm referencing here are very old now.

So! To get back to where I started with this!

I love that Lise Mayer was one of the writers of The Young Ones. In some ways, the fact one of the writers was a woman feels pretty incredible for 1982. At the same time, though, it's not surprising that she's often the forgotten one when people talk about who wrote TYO.

Rik and Ade were/are feminists, and it obviously wasn't their fault as individuals that comedy was so male - comedy was also restrictive in other ways before them. In terms of social class and political attitudes, they were definitely something refreshing and new. That said, it wouldn't be until later, with people like Caroline Aherne (who really changed the fundamentals of the sitcom genre with The Royle Family), that working class voices who weren't fucking Bernard Manning actually got some notice in comedy. And I've not even mentioned race in this ramble. If comedy was male, it was even more pale. There were comedies starring black and Asian comics in the 1980s and 1990s that started to break through - The Lenny Henry Show, Chef!, Desmond's, The Real McCoy, Goodness Gracious Me - but there's no denying BAME people, BAME women especially, have had to struggle a lot for a voice in comedy. Comedy is more diverse today than it was 40 years ago. There has been progress. But it's absolutely still male dominated, and still very white, at the top.

Rik was pegged as the golden boy of the alternative comedy movement, and he was and is undoubtedly remembered for so many different comedies. But in terms of pure success and fame? Actually, I think Dawn and Jen have been the standouts of their cohort. I don't think anyone would've predicted this 40 odd years ago - I mean, Christ, Rik had to speak up just to ensure they got equal pay at The Comic Strip. The boys were given their chance to shine first, there's no doubt about that. But it was Dawn and Jen who were the subjects of a BBC documentary last Christmas.

...Maybe there is hope for funny women, after all.

[youjustfeelthemforever]

btw how someone wants to be loved comes before how you want to love them

[alchemiclee]

I wish tumblr had a mute account feature so you dont have to block someone. they can still see your posts, interact with you, and show up in your notifications, but they don't show up on your dash/for you/tags page.

there's this one person I don't follow and also doesn't follow me who narrates their daily life and their posts show up on my for you page every day. like 10 of them a day. I keep hitting "not interested in this post" and they show up again 5 posts down. I have never interacted with their posts outside of that even once so I don't understand why they keep appearing. i don't want to block because they did nothing wrong. but their long posts about their life multiple times a day when I dont care are very annoying. tumblr. stop showing them to me!

also, a mute feature would mean I can complete mutuals with nice people so they feel good and not think I hate them or something, especially if they want to be friends. then I don't have to see their posts if all they post about is stuff I don't like/care about. i'm trying to make tumblr my "happy place" where I can escape all the bad things in the world and my life and look at pictures of my narrow special interests to try to convince my brain there's still good in the world

[definitelyjunehomestuck]

i've never been insistant enough on not seein somethin on here to blacklist a tag before, but with dream apparently doin a face reveal soon, i think i'm gonna have to

[saving-people-haunting-things]

Out of all of the things to go full conspiracy theory over, why Destiel?

[skrunksthatwunk]

been wringing my hands about the concept of family therapy. scary stuff. like maybe it could help and we sure as hell need SOMETHING to change but i think it would be like taking a potato peeler to the soles of my feet

[jetii]

On Impulse

Pairing: Tech x fem!Reader

Words: 10,703

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! friends to lovers, kind of enemies to lovers? but in a goofy silly way, Tech's autism rizz, fluff, arguing as a form of flirting, smut, thigh riding, unprotected sex, fingering, semi-public sex, naked female clothed male

Summary: You've made it your personal mission to convince Tech that letting loose and taking risks for the sake of fun can be a good thing. During your day off on Coruscant, your efforts are unexpectedly rewarded.

A/N: There's no excuse for this I just love writing feral Tech. Also wow! 400 followers! Hello! Thanks for being here.

Previous Work | Next Work | Masterlist

Tech knows he can be a little... much.

It's not really his fault. The Kaminoans who designed him and his brothers didn't really think to account for things like social awareness, or tact, or "when not to talk." All they programmed him with was an insatiable thirst for information and a single-minded desire to be useful.

The others in the squad had been able to pick things up on the way, seeming to possess a natural sense for the sort of thing one says or does at any given time. Tech, though, just doesn't have that. He has a brain that's constantly running and processing data, and an all-consuming need to do something about it.

So he can't help it that his mouth tends to get away from him when he's excited. The information just comes pouring out.

His brothers call it a data dump.

The Kaminoans call it an unfortunate defect in his otherwise exceptional programming.

But you call it charming.

"And furthermore," Tech is ranting, following you as you walk through the halls of the Senate building, “the use of such a heavy gauge power coupling is inefficient and a waste of valuable resources which could be better spent in other areas. The new couplings are half the size, and can be manufactured on-planet instead of having to be shipped from across the galaxy."

"Not my fault if you were wrong, Tech," you toss over your shoulder at him, smirking as he splutters in offense.

"Wrong?!" he repeats, sounding aghast at the mere suggestion. "I don't think so."

You roll your eyes, but there's a fond smile on your lips. Tech is a genius, really, he is. But his ego is sometimes as big as his brain, and you love to wind him up a bit. 

He gets so flustered and huffy and cute when you do, and you can't resist. He's just too adorable not to tease a little. So you keep walking, even though you've long ago lost track of where you're actually going.

"I mean, I can admit when I'm wrong," you go on, slowing your pace just a bit. "It's a sign of a healthy psyche."

Tech scoffs, crossing his arms over his chest, and you bite back a laugh. He's wearing his full armor, minus his helmet, and it only adds to the ridiculousness of the moment. The two of you are quite the duo, sticking out like a pair of sore thumbs among the throngs of politicians and Senators going about their daily business.

You'd thought this outing would be something fun, an opportunity to get Tech out of the Marauder for a bit. You know that he gets antsy, and he loves nothing more than a good lecture or an impromptu lesson. 

Plus, it was your off day, and you wanted to spend some time with him, since you knew he was only planning to hole up in his bunk and work on fixing up some broken circuit board or another. Not the most thrilling way to spend an afternoon.

And you can't even count the number of times you've come back to the Marauder, only to find him elbow-deep in some project, surrounded by scrap parts and wires and tools and completely oblivious to the world.

That's fine, though, really. It's just who he is, and you know better than to interrupt, but you can't deny you like it better when his brain is occupied with you instead.

The way he lights up when he gets the chance to talk about whatever is on his mind is endearing, and you love listening to him speak. You'll take Tech the lecturer over Tech the hermit any day.

So, you'd come to the Senate to let him geek out. One of your friends was an assistant to a Senator, and you'd asked if you could give Tech a tour. It was more of a chance for Tech to give you a tour, actually, because you were clueless, and he knew exactly where to go and what to see. But he doesn't know that.

What had started out as your attempt at tricking Tech into a date has quickly turned into another argument, but that's nothing new between the two of you.

It's become your routine, something you've done since the first time you met. You and Tech bickering about this and that, teasing and mocking each other but with a light in your eyes and a smile on your faces. Sometimes it feels like it's the only way the two of you communicate.

You can't even remember now what the first fight had been about. But you know that he had said something blunt and off-hand, and you'd gotten offended and given him a piece of your mind. He'd argued back, and the two of you had gone back and forth until you had run out of steam.

It's what always happens.

But you had seen a glimmer of something in Tech's eyes that day, and when he'd started arguing back, there had been a spark there. It wasn't boredom, or apathy. It was excitement, passion, a fire in him that you had never seen in anyone else before.

He had liked it.

You had, too.

And that's when the real games had started.

It's not the same now. You've gotten used to each other, and you can tell when he's trying to rile you up. He does the same thing every time. He'll say something rude, or condescending, and you'll shoot him a dirty look and a sharp comment. Then, he'll say something even more rude and condescending, and then, finally, you'll lose your temper, and the two of you will bicker and banter until the both of you have worked through whatever is bothering you.

It's kind of like therapy.

Or foreplay.

Maybe a little of both.

And now, here the two of you are, doing it again. You're wandering the halls, not even paying attention to where you're going anymore. You're far too distracted by the way Tech's brow is furrowing in concentration as he thinks of how to prove himself right, and the way his nose is wrinkling in irritation at your constant teasing.

You're both enjoying this a little too much.

"I assure you, my psyche is perfectly healthy," Tech is saying as he follows behind you, and you grin at him over your shoulder.

"I don't know, Tech," you taunt. "I can't help but notice how much you love being right. That sounds like a classic case of an inflated ego to me."

He scoffs.

"My ego is perfectly sized, thank you," he tells you, his tone haughty. "It's not my fault that my intelligence is far superior to the vast majority of beings in the galaxy."

"Oh, and humble, too," you add, rolling your eyes. "My mistake."

He ignores your quip, still following you down the corridor, his steps slowing just a bit.

"Where are we going, anyway?" he asks, peering at you curiously. "This isn't the way back to the hangar."

You smirk, stopping in your tracks and turning to face him. Tech nearly runs into you, stopping short at the last moment, and the two of you stand only inches apart, your face turned up to his. He's almost a full foot taller than you, and the way he's staring down at you makes your heart beat a little faster. He's not smiling, not really, but you can see the amusement in his eyes.

"We're not going back to the hangar," you inform him, and his expression changes to one of confusion.

"Then where are we going?"

You don't answer. Instead, you grab him by the wrist, pulling him after you as you continue walking. "I have something else in mind."

He stumbles after you, tripping over his own feet in his hurry to keep up with your sudden change of pace.

"Where are we going?" he repeats, his tone slightly higher than usual. He sounds flustered, and you can't help the little laugh that slips past your lips.

"You'll see," is all you say.

He grumbles, but follows along nonetheless, allowing you to tug him after you.

"We don't have time for detours," he tries.

"We made a detour for power couplings, didn't we?" you counter. "What's the difference?"

"A power coupling is a necessary component of the Marauder's hyperdrive," he protests. "A 'detour' is merely a waste of time."

"But the ones we had were just fine," you argue, still pulling him along.

"Just fine is not good enough," he replies. "I will prove it to you. Once I have the new couplings installed, I will run a simulation, and you will see how much more efficiently the Marauder will perform. You will admit that I was correct."

You can't help but laugh at his self-assurance.

"If you say so," you tease.

"I do say so," he counters. "I am a man of science, and I always back up my claims with evidence. If I say something is fact, it is a fact."

You snicker again, and Tech glares down at you.

"You can be rather vexing," he says with a sigh of resignation.

"I try."

He rolls his eyes, but you catch the hint of a smile on his lips.

"I'm sure you do," he mutters, and you bite back a grin.

You love teasing Tech, but not just him. You like doing it to the others, too, especially when they least expect it. You have a reputation for being sweet and innocent and nice, but the truth is, you can be just as devious as the rest of them when you want to be.

You just choose your targets more carefully, and Tech is the perfect victim.

He's so serious, and so uptight, and so easy to get worked up. It's a challenge, keeping up with him and his constant rants and lectures, but you're nothing if not determined, and you have a lot of fun doing it.

But your favorite is the way Tech will get so frustrated and worked up, and then, once he's exhausted himself, and he knows that you're not going to change your mind, he'll start grumbling. And pouting.

And it's just the cutest thing in the world.

You don't mean to upset him, or anything, but the way he puffs up like an angry bird when you challenge him is just adorable, and you can't help yourself. You just can't stop.

And if the way he's looking at you is any indication, he can't stop, either.

"Oh, come on, Tech," you chuckle. "Lighten up a bit. Today is supposed to be fun. We're on Coruscant, there's nothing dangerous happening, and the weather is actually nice for a change. Just try and enjoy yourself a little."

"I am enjoying myself," he argues.

"By arguing with me?" you counter.

Tech looks down at you, the faintest smile tugging at his lips. He doesn't look as irritated anymore, and there's a twinkle in his eyes that tells you that he's having a good time. He's enjoying himself, despite his protests, and he knows that you're onto him.

"Yes. I enjoy our debates," he answers simply. He pauses, then adds, "Though I would hardly consider it a debate. It is a mere fact that the new couplings are better than the old ones."

You roll your eyes, and Tech's lips twitch at the gesture. There's a warmth that spreads through your chest when you see him like this, happy and relaxed. You like seeing him smile, and you like it even more when it's because of you.

"Sure, sure," you placate him. "Whatever you say, Tech."

"That is what I say," he confirms, and you can't help but laugh.

"Okay, well, whatever."

"I win, then?"

"Fine," you sigh, pretending to be put out. "You win."

He smiles, smug and self-satisfied. "Of course I do."

You snort, rolling your eyes again, and he just keeps grinning. He looks so proud of himself, and you can't help but feel a surge of affection for him. You like this side of Tech, the one that's playful and teasing and fun. It's a side that not many people get to see, and you can't help but feel lucky that you're the one he shows it to. 

You like this, the two of you together, alone, no one around to hear your conversations or watch the way you look at each other. There's something intimate about it, something that makes your stomach flutter and your heart beat a little faster. 

It's different, when it's just the two of you. The arguments and banter are still there, but there's something else, too, something warm and gentle and special. You want to drag this moment out as long as possible, and you intend to.

"So, where are we going, then?" he asks, and you bite your lip, trying to hide your smirk.

"Nowhere," you say, and he gives you a puzzled look. "Or, well, nowhere interesting."

"Then why did we take the detour?" he asks, and you can hear the curiosity in his voice. He's not annoyed or angry or irritated. He's genuinely interested in what you're doing, and why. It makes you smile.

"Because, Tech," you explain, "sometimes, it's the journey that's important, not the destination."

He cocks his head to the side, considering your words.

"But if the destination is not important, then why bother going at all?" he asks. "What is the point of the journey, if not the destination?"

You can't help but laugh again. He's so literal sometimes. You've tried explaining the concept of "just because" to him, but it's a hard concept for him to grasp. There is no rhyme or reason to some things, no logic or scientific explanation. Some things just are. They're fun, or beautiful, or special. And sometimes, that's reason enough to do them.

You tell him as much, and Tech rolls his eyes. He doesn't believe you. He can't understand why you'd do something for no reason at all. But you know that he's listening. He's still following along with you, and there's no indication that he wants to leave.

"So you just wanted to wander around the Senate?" he asks, and you nod. "Why?"

"I don't know," you admit. "I just wanted to. And I thought it might be nice to do something together. You and me."

He looks at you for a moment, a thoughtful expression on his face. There's a softness to his features, and his eyes are warm behind his goggles. It's a look that you've only ever seen him give you.

Sometimes when Tech looks at you, you feel like a bug under a microscope, like he's dissecting and cataloguing your every move. It's unnerving, and it makes your stomach twist with anxiety. But sometimes, like right now, he looks at you like he's seeing something new and wonderful, like you're a mystery he's trying to solve.

You don't mind it so much when he looks at you like that.

"It is...nice," he admits after a moment, his voice quiet. "Being together."

He says the words carefully, almost hesitantly, and you can see a slight flush creeping up his cheeks underneath his goggles.

You smile at him.

"It is, isn't it?"

You're still holding onto his wrist, and you slide your hand down to meet his, your fingers intertwining with his own. Tech doesn't pull away, and he doesn't seem surprised, or uncomfortable. He just lets it happen, and a soft, shy smile appears on his lips, his thumb gently stroking the back of your hand.

"I—"

Whatever Tech was about to say is cut off by a shout from behind him. Both of you jump, and Tech whips around to face the source of the sound. He steps in front of you, instinctively shielding you with his body, his free hand going to the blaster on his hip. You can feel his muscles tensing, and his grip on your hand tightens.

You peer over his shoulder and see a Corrie Guard, one of Fox's men, coming down the hall toward the two of you. Your blood runs cold.

"Hey!" he shouts. "This is a restricted area."

Tech glances at you over his shoulder. "It is?"

"Oops," you mutter back. "Guess we better get out of here."

The two of you turn and bolt down the hall. You can hear the guard's boots pounding behind you, and Tech's fingers are still interlaced with yours. Laughter is bubbling up inside of you, a mix of adrenaline and nervous energy. Tech lets out an amused huff, and the two of you turn the corner.

You nearly slam into another group of troopers, and Tech pulls you out of the way, keeping a firm grip on your hand. You barrel past the guards, who shout in alarm as they see the first guard chasing the two of you. 

It's chaos, and the laughter spills out of you as Tech drags you through the maze of halls and corridors. The sound of your feet and the guards' boots echoes off the walls, and Tech is pulling you along behind him, not letting go. You can see the smile on his face, even as he turns and yells at you.

"Why are they chasing us?!"

"No idea!" you shout back, laughing.

"We should not be doing this!"

"Too late!"

The two of you sprint through the building, twisting and turning down hallways, the sound of the guards' footsteps following close behind.

"Tech! Over here!"

There's a door at the end of the hall, and it's unguarded. The two of you make a beeline for it, and you're both panting by the time you reach it. Tech slams his hand against the access panel, and the door slides open. He shoves you inside, and you have to duck under his arm before he follows close behind.

"Where are we?!" he asks, looking around.

You shrug, breathless, and he looks at you incredulously.

"We're in a closet," he says, and you can't help but giggle.

The room is dark, empty, and quiet. It’s also extremely cramped, and there's barely enough space for the two of you. The closet is clearly built for a maintenance droid, and the shelves are lined with cleaning supplies.

It's a tight fit, and you're pressed close together, chests heaving as you try to catch your breath. Tech is forced to bend down toward you to avoid hitting his head on the shelves above you, and his nose is practically touching yours.

"This is not an ideal hiding place," he complains. “It's not defensible. If they find us here, we'll be trapped."

"I know." You sigh, looking up at him. "I'm not an idiot."

"But you are the one who pulled me in here," he points out.

"Well, we had to get out of sight, didn't we?" you argue. "They were right behind us."

He shakes his head, a reluctant smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. "You are unbelievable."

"I'll take that as a compliment," you say, and you can hear his amused huff.

"You would," he murmurs, his tone dry.

"What are they gonna do?" you ask, looking up at him with a smirk. "Arrest us? For taking a shortcut?"

"I don't know why you're being so difficult about this," he grumbles. “We—mmph!”

Your free hand clasps over his mouth, silencing him. Tech's eyes widen behind his goggles, and he blinks at you in surprise. His other hand is still holding yours, and the two of you are standing so close together that you can feel the warmth of his body through his armor.

"Quiet," you hiss, and he gives you a look that is part exasperation, part amusement.

You keep your hand over his mouth, and the two of you stand there in the dark, the only sounds the hum of the ventilation system and the muffled footsteps of the guards outside. Your heart beats wildly in your chest as you stay as still as you can, and the feeling of Tech's lips beneath your palm is sending tingles down your spine.

You can feel his breath, warm and uneven, and you're suddenly hyper-aware of every inch of him that's touching you. Your fingers drag along the curve of his jaw, catching on the stubble there, and he shivers. It's barely noticeable, but you feel it, and you can't help the flush that creeps up your neck as you pull your hand away.

Tech's eyes are still wide, and his lips are parted, but he stays silent. He straightens, shifting a bit in the tight space, and you can feel his chest brush against yours. You can smell the leather of his armor, and the faint scent of grease and soap that lingers on his skin.

He's so close.

His leg is wedged between yours, and his body is radiating warmth. You're practically plastered to him, and every part of him that's touching you feels like it's burning. The hand that's holding yours is trembling, just a bit, and the closeness of the space, the heat, and the adrenaline from the chase are making your head spin. And you can't seem to stop staring at his mouth.

The voices in the hallway grow louder, and the two of you tense as you listen. They're right outside the door, and you suck in a sharp breath.

"Maybe they went the other way," someone is saying.

"They couldn't have gone far," another voice replies.

Tech's free hand comes up to rest on the shelf next to your head, bracing himself as he looms over you. His eyes are fixed on the door, and his brow is furrowed, a small frown on his face. You know he's probably running through a million different scenarios in his head, calculating the odds of each one, weighing the options and possible outcomes.

You know he's trying to figure out a way to get the two of you out of this, a plan, an escape route, something. Meanwhile, all you can seem to think about is how soft his lips look, and the way they had felt, warm and gentle against your hand.

"Let's just radio Fox and let him deal with it," a guard says. "I don't get paid enough to run around the Senate."

"We don't get paid at all," the other retorts.

"Exactly."

Tech adjusts his stance again, trying to get a better angle on the door. The motion presses his thigh harder between your legs, directly against your center. The touch sends a shock of arousal through you, and you have to bite your lip to keep from gasping aloud, praying he doesn't notice.

Of course, he does.

Tech snaps his head to look down at you, his eyes locking with yours, and you can see the surprise written all over his face. His lips part slightly, and his gaze flickers down to where your bodies are connected, then back up to your face.

You can see the moment realization dawns on him, and the way his pupils dilate behind his goggles is unmistakable.

"We'll search this side," someone is saying.

"They've gotta be around here somewhere."

You can barely hear them over the sound of your pulse pounding in your ears. You swallow thickly, and Tech's eyes dart to your throat, his lips parting a bit more. He looks a bit dazed, like he can't believe what just happened. Or maybe he can't believe the effect it's had on him.

You're having a hard time believing it yourself.

Tech is never one to be lost for words, or speechless, but now, he doesn't say a thing. His eyes are fixed on yours, and he's so close to you that you can see the flecks of gold in his eyes. He looks like he's about to say something, but then thinks better of it, his lips pressing together.

"Do you think they went upstairs?"

"Nah, it's too risky. They're probably still on this level."

Tech lets out a shaky sigh, his hand flexing against the shelf. His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his eyes flutter closed before he takes a deep breath, and then his leg is moving up against you again, and this time, it's deliberate.

A small, choked gasp slips past your lips, your hand squeezing his, and Tech's eyes fly open. 

You know you should say something, or do something, but you can't seem to form words, or even a coherent thought, really. All you can focus on is the way his leg is rubbing against you, sending sparks of pleasure through your entire body with every minuscule twitch.

Tech's breath hitches, and his grip on the shelf tightens. He's watching your reaction closely, his eyes roaming over your face. He's testing you, you realize, seeing what you'll do, how you'll react.

You don't move, and the pressure against your core increases, just a little, but it's enough. A whimper escapes you, and Tech's nostrils flare. You can feel the heat rising in your cheeks, and you're pretty sure you're the color of a sun-ripe pomfruit.

"Tech," you whisper, your voice coming out husky and breathless.

He doesn't say a word, his eyes boring into yours, his leg still moving, ever so slightly, against you. The guards are arguing now, but neither of you are paying attention. There's nothing but the two of you and this tiny, dark closet, and the friction that's building between you.

"Tech," you breathe again, a little louder this time.

His tongue darts out to wet his lips again, and his eyes flutter shut as he lets out a shaky breath. He's enjoying this, you realize. He's getting off on it. And the thought makes a fresh wave of arousal rush through you.

Tech is not usually an impulsive person. He's meticulous and precise and methodical. Everything he does is calculated, planned. He's not spontaneous, and he doesn't do things without thinking them through first. But right now, he's acting on instinct, and he doesn't seem to care about the consequences.

And the thought is making you feel things that are definitely not appropriate for this particular situation.

Another insistent brush against your core, and you're done for.

"Fuck," you whimper, your hips rolling forward into the contact. Your free hand shoots out and grabs his shoulder, giving you leverage as you press yourself harder against his thigh.

Tech makes a strangled sound, somewhere between a moan and a whimper, and his fingers curl harder around the edge of the shelf above you. The metal groans and bends under his grip.

The two of you are lost in a haze of pleasure and desire, your bodies moving together, desperately seeking more friction, more pressure, more contact. Tech is panting now, his breath coming in harsh, uneven gasps, and the sound is like music to your ears. He's always so in control, so put-together, but now, he's completely undone.

You can't stop staring at him, drinking in the sight of him, and his eyes are locked on yours, too. You're close, so close, and Tech must be able to tell because he's grinding his leg against you faster. The hand that was holding yours has moved to your hip, and he's pulling you closer, tighter, helping you grind against him.

His goggles are fogging up, and he's got that look on his face, the one he always gets when he's working on something. But this time, it's not the Marauder's circuitry or a busted datapad, it's you, and the realization makes your blood burn hot.

The voices outside the door are still going, but they're faint and distant, moving farther away, the words nothing but a meaningless buzz in the back of your mind. All that matters right now is the way Tech's thigh is rubbing against you, and the heat pooling in your core.

"Tech—"

Your words are cut off by a whimper, his name coming out like a plea, and you can't help the way your hips are jerking, seeking more contact. Your fingers are digging into his shoulder, and he's practically shaking, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps.

"I can't—" he gasps. "I can't think like this."

"Don't," you choke out, your voice trembling. "Don't think. Just...just..."

You're not even sure what you're asking him for, but you don't need to say anything else. He knows.

The pressure against your center increases, his leg rubbing harder, faster, and you can't hold back anymore. Your climax washes over you like a tidal wave, and your knees nearly give out, only Tech's firm grip on your hip holding you upright.

You barely make a sound before he's crushing his lips against yours, swallowing your moans and whimpers, his own muffled grunts echoing in your ears.

You cling to him, riding out the aftershocks of your release, and his mouth is hot and insistent against yours, his tongue stroking against yours. He's warm and soft and sweet, and he tastes like caf and something else that is distinctly Tech. His kisses are hungry, and his hands are roaming, and you're not sure if you're dreaming or if this is actually happening.

Tech kissing you. Tech, who has barely even touched you before today, who has avoided any and all physical contact with you since the moment you met, who has never, ever, shown any kind of interest in you, is kissing you, his hands and mouth and tongue setting your nerves on fire.

And all because of an impulsive idea, an accident.

You should stop. You know you should stop, but you can't bring yourself to.

"Tech—" you breathe, and his mouth moves to your jaw, kissing and licking and biting at the sensitive skin there. You're practically melting under his touch, your fingers carding through his hair, tugging gently. "Tech, the guards—"

"I know.”

He sounds just as wrecked as you do, his voice raw and husky, and you can't believe this is happening.

"We—"

Your words are cut off by his mouth again, and you're panting and writhing against him. His hands are on your ass, and he lifts you, forcing you to wrap your legs around his waist. The shelves shake and rattle as he presses you against the wall, and the new position allows him to grind his codpiece against your heat, the feeling making you both groan into each other's mouths.

You've never wanted anything more than you want him right now, and the desperation in his kisses is telling you that he feels the same way.

"Tech," you whimper.

"I know," he breathes, his lips moving against yours.

The guards' voices are fading, growing quieter and more distant, but neither of you notice. You're both too lost in each other, in the feeling of finally, finally, giving in to the tension that's been building between you for weeks, months even.

"Tech—"

"I know," he says again, kissing you harder, deeper.

The guards' voices are gone, now, and the only sounds are the hum of the ventilation system, the creak of the shelves, and the wet, desperate noises of the two of you devouring each other.

"We have to—we can't—" you manage, and he pulls back, his mouth moving to your neck, trailing hot, open-mouthed kisses across your skin.

"I know," Tech breathes, his voice a low growl that sends shivers down your spine. "We can't. This is—"

His hips buck, and he presses himself harder against you, making you both moan.

"This is dangerous," he finishes, his mouth moving lower, to the sensitive spot just below your ear.

"It's wrong," you gasp, but your fingers are tangling in his hair, and you're tilting your head to give him better access. "We can't let anyone find out about this."

"No," he says, his teeth nipping at your throat. "No one can know. If the others found out, they'd never let us hear the end of it."

You shudder, and his hands are everywhere, roaming, grabbing, groping, and his lips are tracing patterns across your skin. You're not sure if he's trying to prove a point or not, but you can't stop the little gasps and moans that are falling from your mouth.

"What—what are we gonna tell them?" you ask, your voice breathless and shaky.

"I don't know," he groans, his hands sliding down to the backs of your thighs, squeezing hard. "I can't think."

You laugh, the sound coming out as a desperate, breathless thing. "Me either."

His mouth is on yours again, and he kisses you fiercely, hungrily, like he can't get enough. Your hands are in his hair, tugging and pulling and holding him to you, and his hips are bucking against yours, grinding his codpiece against you. It's not enough, and you need more, but you can't take it. You're too wound up, and the friction is delicious torture.

You grab his face in both hands, forcing him to look at you. His eyes are wild, his pupils blown wide, and he looks like he's going to come apart at the seams.

"Tech," you gasp. "Tech, please."

"Yes?" he asks, his voice rough and strained.

"I want you," you admit. "I want this. I want you, right now."

He groans, his fingers digging into your hips, and his forehead drops to yours.

"I want this, too," he breathes, his voice barely a whisper.

You're clinging to him, and his mouth is on yours, and it's all a blur, a mess of tongues and teeth and moans. You're clawing at his armor, and he's tugging at your clothes, and there's barely any space left between the two of you. It's a frenzy, a frenetic energy, and you're both chasing the same thing, the same end goal.

Tech's fingers slip beneath the waistband of your pants, and he tugs, his movements jerky and uncoordinated. His hand is fumbling, clumsy, and you know he's not used to this. He's not used to the intimacy, or the desperation, or the lack of control. He's not used to being this wound up, and it's showing.

It's cute.

He's cute.

He's so fucking cute, and you have no idea what you're going to do with him.

You don't know where it comes from, or who started it, but suddenly, you're both laughing, a mixture of nerves and excitement and relief. You're smiling, and he's smiling, and you're just so happy, and so overwhelmed, and you're not sure if you've ever been this happy before.

Tech gives up on the clasp, and instead, he tugs off his glove with his teeth and shoves his hand down the front of your pants, his bare skin hot against your flesh. His fingers slide between your folds, and the moment they meet the wetness there, you're both moaning.

You can feel his fingers stroking you, rubbing at your clit, and your hips jerk, bucking against him.

"You feel incredible," he murmurs, and the sound of his voice, all breathless and awestruck, sends a shiver down your spine.

"You—ah, fuck," you gasp, unable to continue as his fingers swirl over your sensitive bundle of nerves.

He smirks, and he looks so goddamn smug, so satisfied, and you're pretty sure you've never been more turned on in your life.

"Tech," you whine, and he chuckles, a low, deep sound that sends a tremor through your body.

"Is this good?" he asks, his voice teasing, and you can't help but giggle.

"You know it is," you manage, and he grins.

"I do," he says. "I just wanted to hear you say it."

He's still smirking, and you roll your eyes, even as he slips a finger inside of you. You're panting, and your hands are scrabbling at his chest plate, trying to find purchase. He's got you pinned, and you're practically hanging from him, your thighs locked around his waist.

"Tech," you gasp, and his hand is working, pumping in and out of you.

"I can't believe how wet you are," he mutters. "I've barely even touched you."

"I'm not usually like this," you argue. "It's—mm, fuck—it's just you."

He moans, his forehead dropping against yours. "You have no idea what that does to me."

"Show me," you reply, and his grip on your hip tightens, his fingers flexing against your skin.

"I will," he promises. "I will."

You can feel his breath on your face, hot and uneven, and his mouth is so close, his lips brushing against yours.

"Just—fuck, Tech, just fuck me," you plead. "Please."

He lets out a ragged groan as he pulls his hand away, and you nearly sob at the loss. You can feel him fumbling with his belt, his other hand holding you up, and he's cursing, his fingers shaking.

"Why—why are these damn things so—ugh!"

He finally manages to undo his belt, and it hits the floor with a thud, the ridiculous amount of pouches and gadgets clattering to the ground. The sound makes you laugh, and he shoots you a glare.

"Stop that," he chides. "This is a serious matter."

"I'm sorry," you gasp, barely able to contain your mirth. "It's just—the sound!"

He rolls his eyes, but his lips are twitching, and his fingers are back on his codpiece, fumbling with the clasps.

"I will never understand why you need so much equipment," you tease, and he scoffs.

"The amount of equipment I carry has nothing to do with my ability to—"

"Just take it off, Tech," you groan. "I'm dying here."

He glares at you, but the effect is ruined by the flush that's creeping up his neck. You can't help but smile at the sight.

"I'm trying," he huffs, "but I can't do anything when you're distracting me."

"Sorry," you apologize, biting your lip.

Tech gives you a look, but his attention is already back on his codpiece, and his fingers are flying over the clasps. He's got a look of intense concentration on his face, and he's practically vibrating with impatience. You undo the buttons on your shirt, tugging it down and exposing your chest, and Tech's gaze flickers over to you, his lips parting as his eyes travel down your body.

"That is not helping," he mutters, and you laugh, leaning back and bracing yourself against the shelves.

"Maybe if you had less equipment, it would be easier to get out of it," you tease, and he lets out an irritated huff.

"If I had less equipment, I wouldn't be able to do half the things I do."

"True," you concede, a grin on your face. "And then I wouldn't be nearly as interested in you."

He looks up at you, his eyes wide, and the corner of his mouth turns up in a half-smile.

"Are you trying to tell me something?" he asks, his voice soft and teasing.

"Maybe," you say, biting your lip.

He doesn't say anything, just stares at you, and his expression is so earnest and sincere that it makes your heart flutter. He closes his eyes and shakes his head, letting out a huff of laughter.

"You are," he says, his voice quiet. "You're telling me that you're interested in me."

"Well, duh," you laugh. "Why else would I have dragged you along today?"

He doesn't say anything, but you can see the flush on his cheeks darken.

"You're such a dork," you tease.

"And you are the most infuriating, confusing, aggravating, and fascinating person I've ever met," he replies as his eyes open again, his gaze locking with yours.

"That's one hell of a compliment."

"It's a fact."

You're not sure what to make of the sincerity in his tone. You're not sure what to make of any of this. It's not exactly what you'd planned, but you can't help the thrill that's running through you.

"I have no idea what I'm going to do with you," Tech says, and the fondness in his voice makes your heart swell. 

He finally gets his codpiece undone, and it falls to the floor with a clang. You can't help but glance down at his groin, and you see his erection straining against his blacks.

"I have a few ideas," you murmur, and he lets out a strangled laugh.

"So do I."

Tech sets you down on the floor, and your legs are shaky, but he keeps you steady, his hands on your hips. His hands hook into the waistband of your pants, and you can feel his knuckles brushing against your skin as he tugs them down. It’s an agonizingly slow process, and the anticipation is making your blood pound in your veins.

"Force," he hisses as your underwear sticks to your skin, the fabric clinging to your slick folds.

"You did this to me," you say, your voice trembling. "It's your fault."

"I'm willing to take the blame," he replies, his eyes locked on your cunt.

He pulls your pants down, and you step out of them, your shirt still hanging open. You're bare before him, and he's still fully dressed, the plastoid armor covering almost every inch of his skin. You're about to ask him to take something else off when his hands are on you again, gripping your ass and lifting you up.

You let out a startled yelp as he pins you against the wall, his hands spreading your thighs and holding them apart. You can feel the hard line of his cock pressing against you, separated only by the thin fabric of his blacks, and you can't stop the moan that spills from your lips.

"I want you so much," he breathes, his hips thrusting, the friction making you cry out. "I want this, so much, and it's—"

"Tech," you gasp. "Don't stop."

"I want to take my time," he says. "I want to do this properly. I want to do this right, but I can't, not right now."

"Tech," you plead. "It's okay."

He lets out a frustrated groan, his fingers digging into the flesh of your ass.

"This isn't—we shouldn't—"

"Tech," you gasp. "It's okay."

You grab his face, forcing him to look at you, and his eyes are wild, frantic.

"We can take our time later," you whisper. "We can take all the time in the world, but right now, I need you, okay? I need you, and we don't have time."

He shudders, and his cock twitches against your heat, making you moan.

"We can take this slow, later," you promise, and his eyes search yours, looking for any hint of uncertainty. He must not find any, because he nods, and the tension drains from his body.

"Okay," he says, his voice shaky. "Okay."

His hips rock, and you whimper as his clothed erection slides between your folds, the friction making you tremble. You're practically drenched, and you can feel the slickness dripping down your thighs, soaking the front of his blacks. He's not doing any better, his cock throbbing and straining against the fabric.

"Fuck," he hisses.

"Yes, that," you groan.

“You’re impossible," he growls, his hand moving to pull down his blacks. His cock springs free, and the sight of it, thick and heavy and dripping, makes your mouth water.

"And you're taking too long," you shoot back, your fingers curling around his length.

He's hard and silky soft, and his skin is feverishly hot, and the feeling of him, so hard and desperate, makes you moan. You drag your fingers along his shaft, tracing the vein, and his hips buck. He's panting, his eyes fixed on your hand as you pump his cock, and you can feel his muscles twitching and trembling.

"I'm not going to last," he gasps.

"Good," you reply, guiding his cock toward your entrance. "I don't want you to."

You can feel the head of his cock brushing against your slit, and you both moan. He's leaking, and his pre-cum is mixing with your arousal, slicking him up and easing the way. You can feel him sliding through your folds, teasing you, and it's driving you wild.

He pushes forward, his hips jerking, and you both moan as the head of his cock slips inside. You’re about to tell him to keep going when he slams into you, his entire length sheathing itself in your cunt in one swift thrust. 

The cry that falls from your lips is muffled by Tech’s mouth as he captures yours, swallowing the sound. He's so big, and the sudden intrusion is almost painful, but the pleasure is overwhelming, and you cling to him, fingers scrambling for purchase on his shoulders.

His hands are bruising your thighs, and his hips are stuttering, the rhythm uneven and sloppy. There’s not much room to move, but he manages, thrusting shallowly, grinding his hips against yours.

"I'm sorry," he pants, his words slurring. "I'm not—fuck, I can't—"

"It's fine," you gasp. "It's fine, just—ah, Tech!"

Your back arches as he hits that spot inside of you, and he groans, his forehead dropping against yours. His goggles are pressing against your face, and you can feel the cold metal against your heated skin.

"You feel amazing," he pants, his hips rolling.

"You—you're not bad yourself," you gasp, and he laughs, a low, husky sound.

"Not bad? That's the best you can do?"

"You're ruining the moment," you groan, and he scoffs.

"Apologies," he says, his tone mocking. "What can I do to make it up to you?"

You roll your hips, and Tech grunts, his grip on your thighs tightening.

"You can start by fucking me properly," you breathe.

"As you wish."

His thrusts pick up speed, his hands moving to grip your ass, lifting you up and down, helping you bounce on his cock. The shelf behind you rattles, the items stacked on it shifting and wobbling, and Tech lets out a breathless huff of laughter.

"You're—Force, you're a hazard," he gasps, and you laugh, the sound morphing into a moan as he grinds against you.

"I've always wanted to say this," you pant, your nails scraping across his scalp, "shut the hell up and fuck me, Tech."

He growls, his pace picking up, and the angle of his thrusts changes, and suddenly, he's hitting that spot inside you again. Your orgasm is building, and you're teetering on the edge, your body thrumming with pleasure.

Tech is panting, his breaths coming out in ragged gasps, and his forehead is resting against yours, his lips brushing against your skin.

"Touch yourself,” he orders, his voice rough and hoarse. "I want to feel you come."

You comply, your hand slipping between your bodies, your fingers finding your clit. Your eyes flutter shut as the first jolt of pleasure hits you, and Tech lets out a choked groan.

"Look at me," he pleads, and you open your eyes, gazing up at him.

He looks utterly wrecked, his cheeks flushed, his mouth hanging open, his brow furrowed in concentration. He's gorgeous, and you can't believe this is actually happening.

Tech is fucking you, in a closet, while a bunch of Corries are patrolling the halls outside. It's the craziest, most insane, and most arousing thing that has ever happened to you. There's no doubt in your mind that you're going to be sore for a week, but it's totally worth it.

"You're so beautiful," he pants, his words slurring together. "You're so perfect, so tight, and Force, the sounds you're making—"

He cuts himself off with a groan as he drives into you, and you cry out, the pleasure building. He's babbling now, and it's not even coherent, just a stream of nonsense and curse words and half-formed sentences. He's saying something about how good you feel, and how much he's wanted this, and how he never thought he'd have this chance, and it's all a jumbled mess, but it's the sweetest thing you've ever heard.

His rhythm is erratic, his hips jerking, and his face is twisted with desperation and need. He's getting close, you can tell, and you're right there with him, teetering on the edge.

"Tech," you hiss, your hand speeding up, your fingers rubbing furiously at your clit. "Oh, fuck, Tech—"

He slams into you, the tip of his cock hitting that spot deep inside, and you shatter. You come hard, clenching around his cock, and you barely have time to clap a hand over your mouth before your orgasm crashes over you. You're biting down on your palm, your teeth leaving deep indents, and the sound that escapes your lips is muffled and raw.

"Oh," Tech gasps, his eyes fluttering closed. "You're going to make me—"

He doesn't get a chance to finish his sentence. The tension inside of him snaps, and he thrusts into you one last time, burying himself to the hilt and grinding against you, forcing you to take every last inch of him. His cock twitches, and his whole body goes rigid as his orgasm hits him.

He doesn't make a sound as he comes, his lips parting and his mouth opening in a silent cry. His hips jerk, his movements stuttering and uneven, and you feel the bloom of warmth as he fills you, his release spilling out of you, dripping down his cock.

Finally, he slumps forward, his head dropping to rest on your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him, pulling him close, and he lets out a low, satisfied hum.

You can't stop the stupid grin that spreads across your face.

Tech is nuzzling at your neck, and you can feel him smiling, too, his lips pressed against your skin.

You're not sure how long the two of you stay like that, wrapped in each other's arms, breathing hard and basking in the afterglow. It feels like hours, but it's probably only a few minutes.

Tech pulls back, and you look up at him. He's gazing down at you, his expression soft and content. His goggles are crooked, and his hair is mussed, and his lips are swollen and red. You reach up, smoothing his hair down and straightening his goggles.

"Well," he starts, his tone dry despite his ragged breathing, "this has been a most enlightening day."

You burst out laughing, and he smirks, his nose bumping against yours.

"Nothing like a bit of field research to broaden the horizons," you tease.

"Indeed," he chuckles, his hand cupping your cheek.

You smile at him, and he smiles back, and the moment is so tender, so sweet, and you can't help but kiss him again. It's slow and lazy, and he sighs against your lips, his mouth warm and inviting. You could kiss him forever, and never get tired of it.

Finally, he pulls away, and you reluctantly let him go.

"I must admit," he says, his tone light, "that was far more satisfying than I'd imagined."

"Oh, you imagined it, did you?" you ask, and he smirks, a faint flush creeping across his cheeks.

"Perhaps once or twice," he confesses.

"Just once or twice?" you ask, raising an eyebrow.

"Perhaps more," he amends, and the admission sends a thrill through you. “Though I had not anticipated anything quite so vigorous."

"I didn't know you had it in you," you tease. "I never would have guessed that you were such a deviant."

"Evidently you bring out a certain side of me," he replies. "One that I had not been aware of until today."

"Well, I'm happy to explore more sides of you, if you'd like," you murmur, and Tech hums.

"I would enjoy that.”

His lips brush against yours, and the kiss is soft and sweet, and your heart swells.

"But," he says, breaking the kiss and looking down at the floor.

You follow his gaze, and you both wince. Your pants are lying in a pile on the floor, along with your shirt, and Tech's codpiece and gloves. There are a few pieces of cleaning supplies strewn about, and your boots are on opposite ends of the closet. Tech's belt is laying on the ground, his pouches spilling out and his blasters resting haphazardly on the floor.

"We need to clean this up," he mutters.

"Yeah," you agree.

Neither of you move. You stay where you are, clinging to each other, and savoring the moment. It's not going to last forever, and you both know it. 

Once the two of you step out of this closet, things will change. Everything will change. But you can't find it in yourself to regret anything. Not the teasing, or the flirting, or the banter, or the argument, or the frantic, desperate sex. None of it.

And from the way Tech is looking at you, with a mixture of tenderness and awe and fondness, you know that he doesn't, either.

Eventually, though, Tech is the one to pull away. You both groan as he slides out of you, and the sound echoes through the tiny room. He sets you down gently, and your legs shake as you try to find your footing.

"Are you alright?" he asks, his eyes roaming over you, concern written all over his face.

"Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little…" you trail off as you glance down at yourself, taking in the sight of your bare thighs and the streaks of white that are slowly dribbling down them. "Uh, sticky."

"Yes," he agrees, his eyes glued to the mess between your legs. You watch his tongue flick out to lick his lips, and the hunger in his gaze is enough to make you blush.

"What?" you ask, and he blinks, seeming to snap out of his trance.

He flushes and looks away. "Nothing," he mutters, pulling his blacks up over his cock.

"Tech, come on," you say, a grin tugging at the corner of your mouth.

"I must admit the sight of you like this is rather... enticing," he says, his tone nonchalant. He's not looking at you, and he's pretending to straighten his armor, but you can see the pink flush on the back of his neck and the tips of his ears.

"Yeah?" you question, and his eyes flick up to meet yours.

"Yes," he murmurs, and the look he gives you makes your knees weak.

"Good to know,” you breathe. He raises an eyebrow at you, and you can't stop the grin that spreads across your face.

Tech shakes his head and picks up his belt, fastening it around his waist. He begins stuffing his pockets, and you watch him, amused. He's always so proper, so put together, and to see him like this, all riled up and horny, is an incredible sight.

"Are you just going to stand there?" he asks, eyeing you, and you grin.

"Maybe," you tease, and he rolls his eyes.

"I will leave you here."

"Sure, you will."

"I will," he insists, but the look in his eyes gives him away.

"Okay, okay," you chuckle. You grab a cloth and wipe off the worst of the mess, and Tech hands you your pants and underwear. You pull them on, wincing at the damp fabric, and Tech holds out your shirt.

"Thank you," you say, and he nods.

"Of course."

You take the shirt from him, and your fingers brush against his. His touch sends a shiver through you, and you can't resist the urge to lean forward and press a kiss to his cheek.

Tech stiffens, surprised by the gesture, but you see the corners of his lips quirk up in a smile.

"Now what was that for?" he asks, and you shrug.

"Do I need a reason?"

"I suppose not," he admits, a faint blush staining his cheeks.

You can't stop the smile that spreads across your face, and neither can he. You finish getting dressed, and the two of you straighten up as best you can. Tech smooths down his hair and adjusts his armor, and you wipe the smudges off his goggles with the cloth in his belt. He helps you button your shirt and tuck your hair back into place, and he looks like he's enjoying himself. 

You have a sneaking suspicion that he likes undressing you, and putting you back together again.

When he finishes, he presses a kiss to your forehead, and his lips linger on your skin.

"Thank you.”

"For what?" you ask, confused.

"For helping me see the value of a little spontaneity.” Tech gives you a small smile, and his eyes are warm. "I may have been...wrong, about today. It's been an illuminating experience, and I'm grateful for it."

The rush of affection you feel for him catches you off guard. He's such a dork, and he's so sincere, and the way he's looking at you makes your heart flutter.

You reach up and cup his face in your hands, pulling him down for a quick kiss. He lets out a startled sound, but he kisses you back, his lips gentle and warm.

"Who would've thought," you murmur as you pull away. "You have a healthy psyche after all."

Tech scoffs. "I told you—"

A shout echoes down the corridor, and the two of you freeze.

"They've gotta be around here somewhere," a voice calls.

"Shit," you whisper.

"Time to go," Tech replies, and the two of you burst into motion. You both dart to the door, and Tech cracks it open, peeking out.

"Ready?" he asks, and you nod, your cheeks still pink.

He pushes the door open, and you dash out. Tech's fingers curl around yours, and you follow him as he leads the way. Your feet slap against the floor, and your breath is coming in short, harsh gasps. Tech's hand is hot in yours, his grip firm, and his thumb rubs comforting circles into your palm.

You don't even bother trying to remember where you're going. You just follow him, trusting him to lead you to safety. You can hear the voices of the troopers echoing behind you, and their footsteps are growing louder.

"There!" a voice shouts, and Tech curses under his breath.

He tugs on your hand, pulling you around a corner. The two of you are sprinting now, and you're panting, and your heart is pounding. A bubble of laughter escapes your lips, and Tech shoots you a look, but the corners of his mouth are turned up in a smile.

"This is insane," he mutters, and you grin.

"It's fun," you correct.

"This is the last time I ever listen to one of your ideas.”

"We both know that's not true."

"Unbelievable," he sighs, shaking his head.

"I'm just saying," you argue, "we both enjoyed ourselves, didn't we?"

"Yes," he admits reluctantly. He suddenly pulls you to the left, ducking down a side corridor. "But next time, I choose the location."

"Next time, huh?"

"Yes, next time," he huffs.

Tech pulls you through another doorway, and the two of you race down a flight of stairs, then another, until you reach the ground floor. You can see the entrance up ahead, and you muster the last of your strength, putting everything you have into one final burst of speed.

The doors slide open, and the evening light streams in, bathing you both in its warm glow. Tech's fingers are still laced with yours, and he doesn't let go, not even as the two of you burst out of the building and onto the streets.

Tech tugs you to the right, and you follow, his hand warm and firm in yours. You can still hear the shouts of the Corries behind you, but they're getting fainter. You're both out of breath, and your hearts are racing, but the excitement is intoxicating.

Tech finally slows to a walk, and he glances over his shoulder, checking for any pursuers. He doesn't let go of your hand.

"That was certainly a memorable excursion," he remarks.

"Told you it would be fun," you grin.

"Yes, yes, you were right, and I was wrong," he concedes with a long-suffering sigh.

"Never gets old, hearing you say that."

"I can tell," he grumbles, but there's a smile playing on his lips.

The two of you continue on, your steps slow and leisurely, and the streets are quiet around you. It's later than you thought it would be, and there's no doubt the others are wondering where the two of you are. But you can't find it in yourself to care. Not when Tech is looking at you like that.

"So," you start, and Tech raises an eyebrow. "What do we do now?"

"Well," he replies, his voice taking on a thoughtful tone. "I suppose we should head back to the ship."

"Right. Of course." You try your best to keep the disappointment from your voice, but the way you deflate must give it away. Tech glances at you, his expression inscrutable, but there's a hint of a smirk on his lips.

"And then," he continues, his hand tightening around yours, "I'm going to need some help with the power couplings."

You blink and look up at him. His eyes are twinkling, and the corners of his mouth are turned up in a small smile.

"Oh, do you?" you ask, a smile tugging at the corner of your own mouth.

"Yes," he replies. He lets go of your hand and places his palm against your back, his thumb stroking your spine. "I'm afraid I need someone to help test them. Someone with a very discerning eye."

"I see," you murmur, biting your lip to keep from smiling. "I guess I could help."

He slows to a stop, and turns to face you. The evening sun is setting, and the light is catching in his dark brown eyes, making them glow golden. His hand is still on your back, and he pulls you closer, until the two of you are nearly touching.

His free hand tilts your chin up. "I'd appreciate it."

"And maybe after," you continue, a mischievous glint in your eye, "we could test the other parts of the ship."

"That's an excellent idea," Tech replies, and his fingers tighten in the fabric of your shirt. "We will need to make sure we are thorough. It wouldn't do to leave any part of the ship untested."

"No," you agree, a grin spreading across your face. "It would be irresponsible."

"Precisely."

Tech meets you halfway, capturing your lips in a heated kiss. Your hands find his neck, and he pulls you closer, his arms wrapping around you. You can't stop the sigh that escapes you, and he swallows it, his mouth slanting over yours.

He breaks the kiss, and he's smiling, his cheeks flushed. Your hand comes up to cup his cheek, and his eyes flutter shut, his head tilting into your touch.

"So," you start, your thumb stroking his skin, "shall we head back to the ship?"

"After you, darling," he replies, his voice low. He presses one more kiss to your lips, and then he's stepping back, offering his arm.

You reach out to take it, and then you pause, considering. Your fingers drift over his bicep, and you look up at him, your eyes sparkling.

"Race you," you say, and then you take off, your footsteps echoing down the street.

Tech stares after you for a moment, before he shakes his head, a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Infuriating," he mutters, and he sets off after you. 

The two of you run, chasing each other through the streets of Coruscant, and the air is filled with your laughter. It's a beautiful night, and the city is alight with the glow of the sunset. There's a breeze blowing, and it rustles your hair, and the scent of flowers is in the air.

And there's a warm feeling in your chest, something bright and light and free, and you can't stop laughing.

It's impulsive, and foolish, and everything Tech would normally hate. But it's perfect, and as he chases after you, the smile on his face only widens.

Maybe there's something to be said for spontaneity, after all.

Taglist: @baddest-batchers @covert1ntrovert @stellarbit @bruh-myguy-what @qvnthesia

@spicy-clones @kindalonleystars @cw80831 @totallyunidentified @heidnspeak

@lovelytech9902 @frozenreptile @chocolatewastelandtriumph @etod @puppetscenario

@umekohiganbana @resistantecho @dindjarins1ut @tech-aficionado @aynavaano

@burningnerdchild @ihatesaaand @lolwey @hobbititties @mere-bear

@thegreatpipster @lordofthenerds97 @tentakelspektakel @notslaybabes @mali-777

@schrodingersraven @megmegalodondon @dangraccoon @dreamie411 @sukithebean

@bimboshaggy @anything-forourmoony @9902sgirl @jedi-dreea @salaminus

@ghostymarni @gottalovehistory @burningnerdchild

[teamatsumu]

gentle. (aone takanobu x reader)

summary: he’s not the same with you as he is with everyone else

word count: 1,399

warnings: swearing, but pretty fluffy otherwise, fem!reader, high school setting

tags: @keiva1000 @kindnessspreads @msbyomimi

this is written for @honeybleed’s Underrated Character event! I had so much fun writing this because it’s the perfect opportunity to give love to our blorbo aone (he deserves the world).

After Date Tech's loss to Seijoh at the Inter High preliminaries, you didn't know what exactly to do with yourself.

You had been managing the team since your first year. The previous manager hadn't really stayed to show you the ropes, and you had to learn everything from scratch. You had often felt lost and disoriented, and it felt like you were drowning as the novice team built themselves slowly but surely.

You truly felt that this time around, Date Tech's Iron Wall would be strong enough to get you all to Nationals. Now, not only did you have to stomach that loss, you had to deal with the fact that your precious third years were leaving.

You felt like you were drowning all over again, like you had back in your very first week with the team. Like you had no clue what to do. As you sat on the steps outside the volleyball gym on campus, you contemplated your next move. How the team would operate with Futakuchi as the new Captain. How you all had to somehow hone the talent in your inexperienced new setter, Koganegawa. It all seemed like too much work. How were you supposed to manage it all?

You nearly jumped out of your skin when something moved in your peripheral vision and you realized it was Aone, sitting on the steps next to you. When had he gotten here?

"You scared me!" You breathed, laughing a bit. It was almost comical how someone as huge and imposing as Aone could somehow make himself so invisible. But considering how quiet he was, it wasn't surprising to you.

Aone didn't react to your words, but his stare was intense on your face, eyeing you closely before he reached a finger out to poke at the skin under your eyes. Oh.

You felt your face heat a little at his touch, but you gave him a reassuring smile. "I'm fine, Aone. Just a little tired."

It seemed like he didn't believe you, the scowl between his eyebrows only deepening. You fidgeted a bit.

From your very first day managing Date Tech's volleyball club, you had had a soft spot for Aone Takanobu. He was, by all means, a scary looking dude. Taller than any boy you knew, and built like a brick wall. Despite his massive size, he was agile too, a very scary combination. Silver hair, a deep scowl that always seemed to twist his face (you later realized that he wasn't scowling, it was just the lack of eyebrows that made it appear so). It was no wonder people tiptoed around him.

But two years on the same team, spending every day together, meant that you knew Aone in ways that his audience did not. His personality was anything but scary. He was as docile as they came, and slowly but surely, you felt yourself drawn to his quiet disposition. In the storm that came with Futakuchi constantly butting heads with your third years, Aone was the silent bubble you found comfort in. He knew you inside out, and he was perceptive. Like right now, pointing out the dark circles under your eyes with an uncharacteristically gentle touch.

No wonder you had an embarrassing crush on him.

He kept an intense stare on you, his way of insisting there was something wrong. You shook your head again, sighing. You knew he wouldn't let this go. So you let yourself vent, letting out every dark and uncertain emotion inside you.

You ranted about everything that was plaguing your mind, body turned towards Aone but curled into yourself. You pulled your knees up to your chest, wrapping your arms around them to curl into yourself as you spoke, looking up at the boy next to you every now and then.

Aone did not interrupt. He never interrupted. He let you go on and on about how you didn't think Futakuchi was mature enough to lead a team, or how Koganegawa was nowhere near ready to stand on a court. All your doubts were spilled out into the air surrounding you, welcomed by Aone as he sat and listened to everything you had to say. His eyes did not leave you once, but he didn’t react in any other way.

"Sometimes I think you are the only thing holding the Iron Wall together." You gave him a little smile. "And I don't know how you do it."

When you finally finished, silence stretched between the two of you, as if everything around you was absorbing your words. You watched Aone, waiting for him to lean towards you and nod encouragingly, like he did whenever you had one of these ranting sessions.

"I do it because of you."

Your eyes widened, not expecting that he would speak. You knew Aone, and you knew he wasn’t a talker. He loathed having to voice anything because he felt like he didn’t have anything to say which wasn’t already understood. His voice was hoarse and deep, making your breath catch.

"Do what?" You asked, not understanding his words.

"You said I hold the Iron Wall together." He continued, and you basked in the sound of his voice. It was so rare for him to say anything. You wanted to savor it while it lasted.

"I do it because of you. I see how hard you work for this team. And it makes me work hard too. For you."

Your heart was beating a mile a minute, trying to catch up to his words and process them. You felt like your entire face was on fire, your breath stuttering. Aone did not look at you, instead staring at the ground before him. Your eyes caught his porcelain pale skin, eyeing how the back of his neck flushed red. The sight made you giddy.

"Aone…." You breathed, feeling truly speechless. Which wasn't like you at all. Between the two of you, you talked and Aone listened. For the first time, the roles were reversed.

Aone shifted a bit, still not looking at you. "Don't worry too much. You will figure it out like you always do. And I'll be here for you."

His sentences were simple. Yet to you, it felt like he was waxing poetic. You couldn't help your wide smile, shuffling closer to Aone and placing your head on his shoulder. You felt infinitely lighter, like all of what you were worried about didn’t matter at all when Aone was right there with you.

"Thank you." You whispered.

You felt Aone nudge at you gently, his way of saying 'you're welcome'. You let yourself bask in his touch, cheek pressed to his bicep, feeling how your heart pounded in your chest.

Multiple steps sounded on the ground, and then a sharp voice broke through the silence.

"You lovebirds done? Come on, let's get pork buns and then head home. I'm hungry!"

You sighed and rolled your eyes, pulling away from Aone to glare at Futakuchi, who was standing a few feet away while the team lingered behind him. They had all changed out of their sweaty practice clothes, bags slung over their shoulders and ready to leave. You saw Koganegawa peek at you from behind him, his mouth open comically wide.

"Eh? I didn't know our manager and Aone-san were dating!"

Before you could protest, Aone was lumbering onto his feet and grabbing your hand, pulling you up with him. His giant hand enveloped yours completely (you were giddy as you observed this fact), and he didn't let go as he walked past Futakuchi, who had an annoyingly smug grin on his face. You knew you wouldn't hear the end of this.

"Yeah, stay away from her, Kogane!" He called, being obnoxiously loud on purpose. He was definitely trying to goad you two, as was his nature. "You don't wanna know how pissy Aone gets when other guys flirt with her."

Your eyes widened, looking up at the boy in question. Aone pointedly looked away from you, but his grip on your hand tightened, and you could see the same blush creep up his neck and to his ears.

You grinned all the way to the convenience store, and then all the way home too, basking in the new information Futakuchi had spilled, as well as the tight grip Aone had on your hand.

He didn't let go even once.

[somerandomdere]

Yandere! actor x crew member! g/n reader

tags: fluff, slight? yandere themes (duh), you can tell I don't know much about how hollywood scandal works, it's my first fic pls feedback

Fame was everything to Gabriel, it's been his whole life. He was a nepo baby, he has seen the cameras the moment he was born. Blessed with a good face, filthy rich parents, and a flirtatious personality, he was everything ladies wanted in a man.

Until everything came crashing down.

He got into a huge scandal he wasn't even aware of. He was accused of sexually harassing a fellow co actress, when in fact he never laid a finger on her. Sure, he was a well known celebrity and has a history of sleeping around, but that doesn't mean he will force himself on someone without consent!

The scandal got so big he was defamed everywhere. His sponsors withdrew, his parents and friends wanted to cut ties with him, and his girlfriend cussed him out before leaving.

It wasn't him! But at this point, no one believed in him. He started being depressed, having suicidal thoughts, and contemplating on quitting his dream career.

Enter you. Beautiful, radiant you.

After a long day of carrying heavy sets and helping out around the set. You were exhausted, so you went out to breathe some fresh air and smoke. As you lit up your cigarette, the main actor of your current show, Gabriel, seemed to be crying. You wanted to smoke, but you couldn't just leave a crying man alone! and you did want some privacy while taking a puff

"Hey... you alright?" You genuinely asked.

You didn't know much about Gabriel's scandal, since you weren't very interested in the affairs of celebrities and thought that fans should just mind their own business.

And you were just here to make extra money, what's the worst that could happen? You'll be gone in no time anyways. He'll just quickly forget you.

"Hey um..." You started awkwardly, and cleared your throat. "I may not be the best person that can comfort, but you can talk to me. I'll listen."

You thought he would be suspicious of you, because of his celebrity status, but he ranted to you and cried. How he was misunderstood. How the people closest to him never believed in him. How he felt so hopeless after he lost everything.

You reached out to touch his hand. You let him know you understood. How painful this period of life will be and how it will all be fine after.

You told him to take a look around him. Look through a different scope, see the people who actually cares for him. You told him how your uncle never believed any of those rumors and took advantage of this to hire him.

He teared up, not from self pity this time, but from realisation. Maybe he should abandon those people who never saw his true self anyways. For the first time, he looked into your eyes. The sunlight danced over your eyes, it reminded him of the warmth his parents used to give him, before they got too busy.

Maybe that's when he fell for you. He couldn't really point out when he fell head over heels, but he can kinda figure he feelings sprouted here.

He came back, stronger than ever. His acting caused your uncle's movie grossing to skyrocket. It hit the box office, everyone was talking about his movie through social media, how he so accurately acted his role, to the point they shivered. He decided to take this opportunity to clear his name. Due to the how overwhelmingly successful his new movie was, people decided to believe him.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

"Y/N! My name was cleared!" He squealed into the phone. You sincerely felt happy for him and offered to celebrate with him.

He wouldn't let this opportunity go without a waste! He immediately said yes. He wanted to see your beautiful face again, and finally ask you out.

He will finally be yours, and you will finally be his.

@hana-no-seiiki

@lovverletters

@moyazaika

@yxami

@mightypossibly

@suiana

My inspos on how to write fics (and my fav fic writers!) PLS PLS PLS PLS GIVE ME FEEDBACKKK

[weird-is-life]

Can I request a shy reader and Spencer's fic. When the reader works at a flower shop, Spencer comes in there looking for flowers. And the reader goes on a little rant about what he should buy and what each flower means.

Hii lovely, ty for the request! Hope this is okay🙈warnings: use of y/n, fluff, a few swear words, (0.9k)

Spencer needs to buy some flowers for Emily. It's her birthday and he's always brought her flower before, so even if he's already running late to her birthday dinner, he can't not go buy her some flowers.

He goes into the first flower shop, he spots on the way to Emily's apartment and that's where he finds you.

It's almost the closing time, so you are just sitting behind the counter, reading some book. Spencer immediately thinks he's in love.

He swears, you are the prettiest girl, he's ever seen and the fact, that you are too absorbed in your book to even notice him, makes you even more attractive to Spencer.

You finally notice him as he's a few steps away from the counter. You quickly slam the book shut and try not to look too caught off guard.

You weren't expecting anybody to come to the shop anymore and you definitely weren't expecting it to be a very handsome guy.

His messy, curly hair, expensive-looking black suit and the small stubble have you buckling at your knees. You are sure, that if you weren't sitting on the chair, you would be on the ground.

"H-hi," you somewhat compose yourself, "w-what can I help you with?"

He shoots you a smile and you're pretty sure that your cheeks go very red," Hi, I was wondering if I could get some flowers?"

"D-do you have any specific in mind?" you ask, barely holding an eye contact with him. You are shy and he isn't helping your situation at all.

"Ye-...No, I don't. Can you recommend me some?" Spencer literally knows the meaning of every flower you have in this shop, but something about you makes him shut his mouth, so he can stay here longer.

"I can, yes," you smile sheepishly at him, "who are they supposed to be for?"

"My friend, it's her birthday today," you would be lying, if you said that your heart didn't skip a beat at hearing that it's for his friend and not a girlfriend. You thought, that he was getting flowers for his girlfriend.

"W-well, I'd suggest, that you should definitely get some yellow flowers for her. Yellow color represents friendship, would that be okay?" you hesitantly ask. Spencer just nods encouragingly.

"Okay, so we could do some mixed bouquet. Yellow roses are definitely a yes, you can't go wrong with that, they are beautiful and smell amazing. We should also add sunflowers, they represent loyalty and adoration of the friendship. Oh and mums are grest, too. They can really make the bouquet come alive, they are like the spirit of optimism. We could also-," you ramble about each flower, that you put in the bouquet for him.

Spencer listens to your every word with a happy smile, you remind him of himself with your rambling and to be honest, he finds it adorable.

You are done too quickly tho and Spencer finds himself wanting to hear you speak again.

But his phone rings and he doesn't even need to pick up to know, that the team is wondering, where he is.

"Here, i-is this okay?" you hand the insanely pretty bouquet to him. Spencer's grin basically answers your question.

"Thank you, thank you. It couldn't be more perfect. You're a total lifesaver..." he looks at your name tag, "y/n. Thank you, y/n."

You are certain, that your cheeks couldn't be more red as they are right now. Spencer's compliment makes you blush like a fool.

"Oh. I'm..I'm glad, that you like it." You stutter out your response, looking at the ground. You carefully wrap the bouquet in the flower wrapping paper and tell him the price of it.

He pays it and before you can say no, he puts a bigger tip than it's normal into the tip jar.

Spencer then slowly leaves thanking you as he goes. And right before the door closes, it looks like Spencer wants to tell you something else, but in the last second he shakes his head and dissappears.

You wave him a shy goodbye, you are a little disappointed even if you don't really know why. Well okay, maybe you do know why. But you shouldn't have put your hopes up, thinking the handsome stranger felt the spark like you did. And that maybe, only maybe, he'd ask you out.

You sigh and sluggishly start to clean up the counter to finally close the shop and go home. The door bell rings again and your head immediately shoots up.

He runs up to the counter, a little out of breath, "shit, I'm sorry to bother you again. I don't usually do this, like ever, it's just....Would you like to go out with me sometimes? Like for a-a coffee? You can say no of course, hell, I'd totally understand if you said no." Spencer's now the one to rumble.

"I-I'd love to," you, surprising even yourself, reply immediately. Cheeks, of course, burning red.

"It's okay- Wait, really?" Spencer was totally expecting you to reject him.

"Yes, really....." you want to say his name.

"Spencer, my name is Spencer," he quickly understands.

"Spencer, " you try out his name," I'd love to Spencer, here." You bravely scramble your phone number on a piece of paper and give it to him.

Spencer takes it with a huge smile, "I'll call you, " he looks like he wants to stay longer, but looks at his watch and curses under his breath," I'm so late. I gotta go, but I'll call you, I promise."

"Bye, Spencer," you say sweetly and Spencer already knows he's fucked. Not even one date and he knows, he's down bad.

[minus-plus-zer0]

Stuck Inside From the Rain

♡ Genre: Fluff ♡ Pairing: Bakugou x Reader ♡ Tags: Aged up (This was supposed to be short u-u)

You couldn't go home, not in this weather.

You had only planned to drop off a video game you borrowed from Bakugou, but the rain had hit so suddenly that there was no way you were going anywhere now.

What's worse, it was getting pretty dark out. At least Bakugou had a nice couch to sleep on...

"Oi!" Bakugou called out from the kitchen. "Dinner's ready!"

Bakugou had fetched some extra ingredients so he could make food for the both of you. You both sat down at his dinner table, with your grilled chicken and peppers in front of you.

"Thank you so, so much for doing this, bestie!" you said. "I think this is the first time we've eaten together in your new home."

"That's not my fault. I invited you over last week. But you were busy with Kirishima..."

You scoffed at how he chewed his food angrily. "He's just a friend, Bakugou. I actually totally forgot about that until now. Are you jealous?"

"Why would I be jealous of some guy with shitty hair?! He's got nothing on me!"

"Then don't bring him up?"

"Don't go blowing me off for Kirishima and then I won't bring him up! How about that?"

"I'll be sure to give you all the attention you want this time, okay?"

Bakugou looked frustrated, but a bit pleased. "You better."

True to your words, you ranted and raved to Bakugou about the food, as always. Bakugou knew that if there was one way to get you to focus on him, it was through his cooking. He looked cocky as you basically monologued to him about your 5-star Yelp review of his food. He offered you the rest to take home as leftovers, because unlike that traitorous rat Kirishima, he found himself to be a considerate and compassionate soul who would never let you starve.

You wanted to help with the dishes, but Bakugou wouldn't let you lift a finger to do chores. The guy was treating you like a guest he personally invited, but you felt a little bit like a burden who invaded his evening out of nowhere (even though you knew he wanted you here).

The night grew colder as it went on, and you could tell even Bakugou was starting to get affected. You attached yourself to his side to warm him up, holding onto him because you knew he hated the cold. He let himself get a little lost in that moment, which was easy to do since nobody was here except for you.

"You're such a koala," he said. "How long are you gonna steal my arm for?"

"Bakugou, if you keep complaining I'm gonna let go."

"Fine, fine! Just walk a little faster with me, I need to get something from the living room."

Bakugou wanted to watch a movie with you, but first he fetched an extra blanket, hoping to drape it over the two of you while you sat on the couch.

"You didn't get your own blanket?" you asked.

"This was all I had! Don't hog the stuff, alright?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be a burden. I'm just cold..."

"You're not a burden. Just get over here so we can share it. Properly."

He drags the blanket around both of your shoulders, bringing you two hip-to-hip.

"It's like we're kids again, huh?" you laughed. "If you had extra pillows, I would've made us a pillow fort."

"I'm too big for that and you know it. It'd just fall over."

"You're no fun. Did anyone ever tell you that you act like such a grandpa?"

"You've probably told me that at least 5 times now, yeah."

You two watched a movie together, some old action flick from long ago. You rested your head on Bakugou's shoulder, and over time he ended up curling one of his arms around you. You're engrossed in the movie, you thought it wouldn't be your style but the movements are mesmerizing! However, Bakugou's glancing over at you repeatedly, gauging your reaction.

As the movie continued, the night grows even colder, and you're retreating into Bakugou's chest for any semblance of warmth. It's easy to do since his Quirk keeps his body working like an oven. Bakugou's tensing up now, stiff and janky in his movements.

You yawned for the 15th time this hour. "Bakugou... I'm sleeeeepy..."

Your heart rate slowed and your eyes felt heavy, and you almost dozed off to sleep with the sound of the rain rushing down outside. Bakugou looked distressed, knowing that you two might fall asleep together for the first time. But you didn't want him distressed, you wanted him happy, because he was your Bakugou, even if it wasn't official yet...

In your sleepy state, you gave him a tiny kiss him on the cheek and then curled up to sleep against him. You heard him swearing up a storm under his breath, and he really went through the entire curse word dictionary as if you couldn't hear him at all.

Then, he kissed you on the forehead right back.

"Night, dummy," he said, his voice very quiet.

[aquasarsstuff]

Arrange Marriage ft. Lilia Vanrouge part. 1, part 2, part 3, part 4

Tags: Lilia teases you, fluff, historical au, there will be part two, reader is implied to be a woman, but no gender is mentioned, is it obvious I love teasing Lilia, twst what do you mean Lilia ain't a prince

Summary: Frustrated about your upcoming marriage, you ranted to your bestfriend who seems to be more than enthusiastic to listen.

Masterlist

---

Lilia bursted into a laugh — a loud one — as you continued dissing your fiancé, a man you never even once met or heard of. You weren't afraid to run your mouth about a powerful figure without a care, which amuses him greatly though slightly worried. He'd make sure to remind you to that walls have ears.

You grumbled at his reaction, clearly expecting to receive sympathy from him.

"Lilia!" You whined at him. "Stop laughing at my predicament! I'm about to be married off!

"My, such hostile reaction. You haven't even met the man fufufu," he chuckled and shook his head. His cheeks looking more fuller doing so. Looking at him, you'd never imagine in your life that you'd be this casual with a commoner, and a man at that. You met him while you snuck out of your household to enjoy the festival normally. Amidst the crowd, you accidentally bumped into your now cheeky companion. It was only one night, but both of you hit it so well. You remembered smiling on your way back, only to not be able to sleep when you were slapped with the reality that you might not see him again. Only for the devil to reappear in your room, apparently sneaking past security.

You didn't question how he was able to do that.

"This is no laughing matter, Lilia." You crossed your arms, a little bit annoyed at your best friend. "Because of this marriage — because of him, my parents have been stricter lately. One of these days, I might just wake up looking like a dried stick."

"All those efforts might be worthwhile once you laid your eyes upon his highness," he answered, sipping on his tea.

"Please, I'm not someone who is easily charmed," you huffed. "Stop pushing the idea. You're supposed to be on my side, not his. It's not like you know him well," you complained. He sighed and smiled at your already irritated form.

"It is a wise choice to side with him, no? A commoner have no chance against your prince. He might let you get away for badmouthing him. As for me however, he'd have no reason to spare me," he pouts. "By then, you will not ever see this adorable face you adore so much."

You rolled your eyes. "It's not like we will see each other as often once I married that prince."

"I have snuck in here without a problem sweetcheeks. That isn't going to be an issue for me." He winks at you.

"The palace is more secured, Lilia."

Lilia took note of the sudden change in your behavior. He was almost fooled into believing that you were affected by his teasing, for the first time when your cheeks were adorned with a soft hue of red. You turned your head away from him, curling your back against the chair.

"Besides, someone has my heart already. Prince charming wouldn't be able to charm me that easy," you confessed bashful. Gathering enough courage, you proceeded to look at him. You stared at his eyes searching for any signs of jealousy at those ruby orbs. His lips molded into a grin, and you swear you have never ever hated his smile before.

"Oh, and who was able to capture your picky heart?" He grinned, as if knowing the answer already.

"I knew it was a bad idea to tell you."

"You wound me sweetcheeks. Do you not trust me enough to confide with your secrets?"

You just grumbled a threw a pillow at his face, in which he was able to catch easily with no problem.

He watched you closely. Your fiancé might just forgive you for insulting him in front of his face, as long as you continued spoiling him with such cute reactions. The idea of shedding his disguise suddenly seemed more tempting to Lilia.

---

[luvkuvi]

15 – catching up !

What's so good about him ?!

Scaramouche x reader smau series

synopsis — Your ex boyfriend kuni is in a band called 5wirl and they're pretty well known considering him and his bandmates are still in college but you still hated his guts on how he ended things with you back then in highschool the day before graduation. So whats the best course of action in this situation? make a hate account of him of course. 

prev || masterlist || next

Putting your phone down you prepared yourself for the first day of the foundation day festival. You sighed preparing to go out to campus. It's already noon and Lumine left early to prepare and help Ayaka. 

On your way to campus seeing the colorful booths and tons of students make you calm down for a while. Surely you won't run into him? you were nervous seeing him after what 2 years? You would think you moved on but the wounds are still here and a ton of "what ifs" and many unanswered questions. To distract your thoughts you already took your phone from your pocket to calm your nerves. 

You giggle at Heizou's tweet "Hey this just looks like–" you were cut off by suddenly bumping into someone "My apologies! Are you alright?" you reached for the stranger's hand about to thank them "Hey it's alright! thank y–heizou ?" Your eyes lit up seeing familiar emerald green eyes. As he lift you off the ground he gave you his charismatic smile. "Y/N! well, it's always great to see an old friend." You giggled at him, he didn't change, and sure texting him as "Scarass" His way of texting didn't change but seeing him in front of him as "y/n" and seeing him still being like himself back then in high school feels nice. 

"Yeah…I was just about to head in" You pointed to the cafe, the same cafe he tweeted out. "Let's catch up! my treat" He head over to the door opening it for you "You go in first~" You only kept smiling at his gestures "Still a gentleman I see~" He only chuckled back nodding. While heizou is browsing the menu you already said your usual after all this is your favorite cafe on campus. "I take it you go here a lot?" he said before just ordering a frappe. You nodded "This is my favorite place actually!" "I see"

After receiving your orders you began talking by the window telling each other what happened over the years. "Can you believe it! your old buddy is going to be famous" You laughed at his claim "Oh please if you told me in the past that heizou from math class is gonna be a famous drummer I would be laughing my ass off" He gave you a pout before taking a sip of his drink… "Snarky as always y/n" He sighed "Why did we ever stop hanging out ?"

You bit your lip, you cut off contact with 5wirl after your messy breakup. Heizou noticed your sudden uneasiness in his question. You placed your hand over his and smiled "Don't worry im fine now and yes it is because of him". Heizou nodded "Im glad you're doing better, we actually clowned him for being stupid" You giggled at his rant about them just teasing scara. Talking about him made you uneasy at first especially since you imagined the same violet hair in the distance…its probably nothing. 

Notes: First written chapters YESSS and was it just just your imagination...?hehe find out next chap!

Taglist!(closed): @sakiimeo @sagegreenthinks @evsolostheuniverse @ozzierenato @mechanicalbeat1  @bananasquash @admiringfish @yuraasia @wolfe02 @msameikanevaeh @yukiipc @magica-ren @r0ttenhearts @vvyeislazzy @yuumaofc @klanxii   @darthvada @the-ghost-0f-t0m0 @yoyo-yui @deluluangel   @katsumikumo @thenightsflower   @lazy-sanns @sukunasrealgf @4thnocturne @danhenglovebot @sketcheeee   @fumichannorakuen @featuredtofu   @mine-lu @karma-gisa @amyena @onmywaytoteyvat @fujimoribaby @eliqusgenma   @buubbbbly   @reekapeeka @elernity @323jelly @kunikissr @miko1ly @feverish-dove @zuunotsane @pomeiu @yxcade @kascar-chronicle @supercoolusernameomg @otomegame-oneshots @cookieofwishes @swivy123 (bold usernames means i couldn't tag you :<) 1/2

[mommahughes19-23]

imma tattoo artist - Q.H

@tattoosbymorgs : did some tattoos and then took my best friend to see my man play his favorite game..

tagged : @yfriend @_quinnhughes

location : VAN

_eliaspettersson : dude that dragon is SICK and I wish I didn't hate needles ...

luca.fantilli : next time I see you I wanna get my tiny love dinosaur

↪ tattoosbymorgs : make it happen lu - you know where I am, bring ya self

bboeser : I WANT YOUR JACKET. give it here!!!!

jackhughes : oh. wow. this is neat.

lhughes_06 : I think your friend is confused as to who's jersey she should wear ..

↪ tattoosbymorgs : DONT PRESSURE MY FRIEND YOU BULLY! SHE CAN CHEER FOR WHO EVER SHE WANTS

trevorzegras : wow... thats legit my bestest lil cousin ever PLEASE TATTOO ME ASAP

↪ tattoosbymorgs : first off im 2 years older than you, second off no, I saw you cheat on me with your other artist.❌

bradytkachuk : dang Quinn, talented and pretty, she's a keeper.

↪ tattoosbymorgs : what is that even supposed to mean?

↪ bradytkachuk : just that youre more skilled than young Quinten will ever be

↪ ehtkachuk : BRADY leave her alone

icole28 : best frienddddddd

lindholmelias : my two best friends ugh

zadorov_16 : I MISS YOU SO MUCH ALREADY OMG I WANT TO FREAKING COME HOME

elblue6 : so talented! love you sweetie.

dakotajoshua8 : will u ever tattoo me?

↪ tattoosbymorgs : probably not because you didn't say please

_tylermyers_ : well even tho you didn't wear any canucks gear I guess its fine... 🆘

↪ tattoosbymorgs : I LET MY FRIEND WEAR IT TO GIVE HER AN AUTHENTIC EXPERIENCE YOU FUCK😑😑😑

yfriend : the best time ever!!!!!!!!!! @j.tmiller9 MORE FIGHTSSS

emmamatthews : you crazy girl!! miss you!😜

austonmatthews : any luck convincing Quinn to let you tattoo him?

↪ tattoosbymorgs : you know the answer is still no.... why do you have to be so mean to me

lelexdemko : sweetie that is stunning! cant wait to see you next season!!😘

_quinnhughes : i smile just for you baby ❤️❤️❤️❤️❤️😁😁😁😁😁

↪ tattoosbymorgs : I love you so much omg 💕💕💕💕💕

nilshoglander : this is a lot of pda idk if I can handle it👀

j,tmiller9 : I wanna get a tattoo by you ☺️

↪ tattoosbymorgs : NO. jk if you bring your children I might reconsider 😏

tdemko30 : @_quinnhughes get my number #35 tattooed on you 😁

↪ _quinnhughes : not going to happen bud

ehtkachuk : STUNNING MOMMAAA ❤️❤️❤️❤️

colecaufield : 🙈

_alexturcotte : 🥴

*TURNING THIS INTO A FEW PART SERIES OF QUINN x TATTOO ARTIST!GF*

A.N : HIIIIII - long note bc some stuff happened and idk it got me thinking.

ok so this is basically me just ranting about tattoo related things :)

This girl is (obviously) an actual tattoo artist who does real business and I am a HUGEEEEE believer in giving credit where it is due.... so I believe her name is Mar, ALL WORKS OF ART ABOVE ARE THE ORIGINAL WORKS OF MAR DO NOT STEAL OR CREDIT AS YOUR OWN. below you can find a link to her Pinterest where I am sure you could research more to find her other socials.

even if you dont want to know more about her work I encourage you to just look at some of it regardless because (again im not a tattoo artist just a girl with a few tattoos and an obsession) I believe she is mainly a fine line style artist and while being an artist of any capacity takes talent fine line is its own art. I know she also does some capacity of portrait work (I haven't seen any people just a few pet ones) and those are also a tremendously precise skill set. all in all I just think that people should appreciate the time, work, and effort these artist put into their work.

anywho I just wanted to say I would be honored for her to tattoo me.

tagged : @quinnylouhughesx43 @skylershines @jacktoria4ever @bunbunbl0gs @63kaprizov