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bb-8 · 3 years

Text

Tech Savvy

Pairing: Tech x female reader Summary: You’re an ex-imperial who has a crush on Tech. He’s awkward about it. Until he’s not. Rating: Explicit (18+, minors DNI) Warnings/tags: crack treated seriously, smut, unprotected PIV, awkward flirting, oral sex, first kisses, accidental exhibitionism, lots of bad jokes, slight angst Word count: 5.4K Notes: It’s smutty crack treated seriously, guys. Read on AO3.

The planet you land on isn’t anything special. It’s a humid swamp world in the Outer Rim that offers enough seclusion for even the Empire’s Most Wanted to pass by unnoticed.

You, being the kind and selfless individual you are, decide to help with repairs while Clone Force 99 are on a supply run. It’s the first time the ship has made planet fall in weeks and everyone is a bit stir-crazy, jumping at the chance to stretch their legs. Prolonged time spent in hyperspace has that effect.

Before he left, you told Hunter that your status as an ex-Imperial put an unnecessary target on their back. You’re still wearing your Imperial uniform, after all, and you know for a fact that the Empire is not exactly merciful to deserters. Especially deserters that committed high treason. Like aiding Clone Force 99’s escape from an Imperial prison.

You definitely didn’t just jump at the chance to stay behind because Tech opted to. That would be ridiculous.

You feel your face heat at the thought.

(What? His goggles are cute.)

The truth is, there’s been something – a tension, as it were – between the two of you since you arrived on board. You know it, he knows it. You’ve been orbiting around each other for some weeks now, and this is the first time you’ve been alone –

“Can you spare a minute?” Tech calls out, pulling you away from your thoughts. You swivel in your chair and shift your attention to him, a bit surprised.

“I was beginning to think you didn’t realise I was on board,” you reply as you make your way to the cockpit where Tech is currently fiddling with some wires.

“You’re...very hard to miss,” Tech replies and your heart skips a beat. “The ship is far too small to miss another sentient being’s presence.”

“Right,” you mutter while taking a seat, trying not to sound too deflated. So maybe he didn’t feel that tension. “What do you need help with?”

“I am taking this opportunity to rewrite the ship’s central comm unit to be more covert when passing through areas with increased Imperial traffic. If I can update the ship’s communication infrastructure to resemble that of a first generation Imperial craft, then we will considerably reduce our chances of being identified. Which is why I am particularly glad you stayed behind today. Considering your, er, history.” He fiddles with a mess of wires in front of him, not once looking up.

“And here I was thinking you wanted me around because you enjoyed my company,” you playfully jab.

“There’s that, too,” Tech replies. “Though it would be advantageous if you could list all of the Imperial access codes you can remember. The computer and I can do some pattern recognition to better–,” he cut himself off and anxiously rubbed the back of his neck. “Apologies, you don’t need a long-winded explanation. If you’re happy to share, you can do so whenever you’re ready.”

You consider protesting and telling him that you find his rambling cute, but you decide not to dwell on it for his sake. You list the codes you remember from the Academy. You keep talking, relaying any tangential intel relating to access codes. If it’s irrelevant, Tech doesn’t stop you.

He is silent for a few moments analysing the data you’ve given him. You watch him closely, admiring the way his brow furrows and his lips purse while he’s concentrating.

“You trust me then?” you venture to say. You play with your hands in your lap. “Even though I was with the Empire?”

“You’re helping us now,” Tech replies, as if it’s obvious. He is still inputting data into the datapad he is holding when he continues, “You trust us, it would seem. And we were soldiers programmed upon our creation to destroy the Republic.”

You fumble over your next words.

“That’s – it’s entirely different.”

“And from my perspective, all that matters is where you are now,” he states with finality.

“Well,” you say shyly, “I like where I am.”

Tech smirks despite himself, briefly glancing up at you from his datapad.

You hold his gaze for a moment, before settling into a comfortable silence. You sit in next to him for several minutes, revelling in his closeness like a brezak basking under the Zygerrian sun. It’s only when you notice yourself blushing like a teenager that you decide to make yourself useful and actually help with repairs like you promised.

++++++++++++++++++++

“Would you mind holding this wire out of the way for me while I solder the capacitors for the localised memory bank?” Tech calls, breaking your concentration. The illumination device you were repairing could wait.

You have no idea what Tech means, if his string of words means anything, and you survey his makeshift workbench for a hint. Several panels are detached, limply dangling from a few brightly coloured wires. Tech is focusing his attention on a large panel that is plugged into a cylindrical storage device.

“Maker, that’s a big data stick,” you can’t help but mutter.

Tech makes an incoherent choking sound.

You do as requested and lean over his shoulder to take hold of the wire he specified between your thumb and forefinger. The fabric of your sleeves brushes against his shoulder armour and it feels as though there is a static shift in the air, like the air around you is alive and humming.

And Tech gulps with the contact. He types a few sets of numbers into his datapad with excess force, seriously testing the build quality of the device. His posture is especially rigid as focuses on testing the wires currently in his lap.

Your pulse is racing. It’s as if each second that passes without a confession threatens to rip apart the very fabric of reality.

“Tech?” He has to feel this too, right? “Why...why did you stay behind today?” you ask, careful to keep your voice even. You need him to say it, admit that he feels it, too. You’re desperate for it.

“You can let go now,” he replied, pointedly ignoring your question.

You let go of the wire, but make no move to step away from him. You’re acutely aware of yourself right now and suddenly self-conscious: about the deep shade of crimson enveloping your face, the way you’re breathing, the clamminess you can feel on your palms. You hope you smell alright and silently pray that any traces of caf on your breath are long gone.

Several seconds pass before Tech looks up, over his shoulder at you. His face briefly flickers with concern.

“Your flushed features and increased heart rate indicates that you are nervous,” he remarks.

Maker, is it that obvious, you cringe.

Your mouth is dry and you contemplate making an excuse, but your brain does not want to cooperate.

“Sometimes I –,” you begin. Void, here I go. “Sometimes I get nervous around you,” you admit, attempting to make your confession sound as casual as possible. You bite your bottom lip in a way that you hope will be interpreted as sensual, or, at the very least, cute.

And Tech? Tech is flustered. Like visibly shaken, blushing furiously, two-steps-away-from-hyperventilating, kind of flustered.

“Please do not be nervous,” he responds tightly. Each word is taking considerable effort to be spoken. “I already told you: we trust you. I am not a threat to you.”

The poor guy. There’s no way he can really be misinterpreting that –.

“No, no, it’s a good kind of nervous,” you attempt to clarify.

“Nervousness is not conducive to high quality work,” Tech chokes out.

“No, I mean like giddy. I feel giddy around you.”

Come on, Tech.

“Would you like a chair–.”

“Stars, Tech, I like you!”

Tech...errors. He attempts to start several sentences with no success before mumbling an excuse that he has to go, “fix the reverse polarity capacitive inductor,” which, to your knowledge, is definitely not a real thing.

So maybe that could have gone better. All things considered, he did seem affected by your admission. On the other hand, he also left the room entirely.

Your face burns with embarrassment and, hey, maybe this backwater planet could make a decent home. Maybe the swamp water would be safe for consumption and you could spend the rest of your days foraging for swamp... berries. Sure, it might be a little uncomfortable, but no less uncomfortable than staying here for one more second.

And this is why you don’t admit your feelings to anyone. Ever.

Ugh. You were so confident, too. You squeeze your eyes shut, willing yourself to transport to another star system.

The door to the ‘fresher shuts, followed by a slight scuffle of feet, and a thunk that sounds decidedly like a head hitting the door.

You briefly consider leaving the ship to attempt to meet up with the rest of the Bad Batch. It’s been far too long since you’ve breathed fresh, clean, air and you feel a second wave of self-pity wash over you as you contemplate the thought of breathing in the smell of Wrecker’s feet for several more weeks in the Marauder’s circulated air. They hadn’t been gone longer than a standard hour and there was a clear path to get into town. You could still salvage the day, you could still stretch your legs–

‘Oh you want to know why I suddenly decided to join you, Hunter, after promising I’d help fix the ship? Funny story, I was trying to seduce your brother and he rejected me!’

You physically cringe at that. On second thought, maybe just pretending this didn’t happen would be the easier option. Lesser of two evils and all that.

Well, you’ve endured worse situations than this. Swamp berries, if they exist, probably won’t offer enough sustenance anyway, you conclude. You turn your attention to fixing several access panels that require little to no attention.

++++++++++++++++++++

It takes a long while for Tech to exit the ‘fresher. The door opens with a hiss and you stiffen, not looking up until he briskly walks past you and resumes his makeshift work station in the cockpit. Once he is seated and his back is facing you and you can hear the rhythmic tapping of his fingers on his datapad, you allow your entire body to relax.

You look back down to your newest project: fixing the swivel action on a chair. You’re not entirely sure if the chair needed to swivel, or whether it was supposed to, but it does now. At least Omega would have fun with that.

“Can you spare another minute?” Tech says after a considerable stretch of silence.

His comment catches you off-guard. It’s fine, it’s fine, you are just going to pretend like nothing happened. You can just carry on helping with actual repairs like you promised.

“I’m coming,” you say, while putting your entire weight into tightening a screw.

Tech coughs slightly.

“The, uh, I need your help with the cum system. The comm system!” he stutters.

Your eyes widen and decide it’s best not to comment, furiously thinking about the fact that Tech rarely makes mistakes. You wipe your hands on your trousers and stride over to the cockpit where Tech is fiddling with some wires on his lap.

“Take these,” he says while coiling a piece of wire to make a conductor. He pushes right through the awkwardness and places a handful of resistors in your outstretched hand.

You stand there in silence for several moments before you drum your fingers on the back of his chair. He makes no move to immediately utilise the resistors, so you resign yourself to stand there and watch him work. (You suppress a sigh – you wish you weren’t attracted to him at this moment, but here you are, drawn in by his confidence and fixated on watching his nimble fingers work their magic.)

Normally, you’d have already lost your patience. But not now, not when you are trying to decipher just what exactly Tech was trying to accomplish by calling you over and ignoring you. And that’s when you realise that Tech either forgot you were there or forgot to give you whichever menial task he originally intended.

But there’s absolutely no chance that Tech makes two mistakes within the same standard year, never mind two mistakes within the same afternoon.

You start to wonder if he even has any use for the resistors. Your knowledge of technology is limited, but you really don’t see how they’d be useful with his current task. Maybe this is Tech’s uncharacteristically inefficient way to try to initiate conversation. You really hope you’re not completely misreading the situation, but it’s not like you have any pride left to lose.

“Why did you stay behind today, Tech?” you ask quietly, voice tinged with apprehension and perhaps an unmistakable eagerness. You phrase it more like a statement than a question this time.

He continues to fidget, his leg bouncing anxiously as he works.

“I did some research,” he blurts. “Regarding intimacy between human males and human females.”

Huh.

“I read the specifics on how to kiss,” he continues, “but I fear that I am a bit out of my depth as to how I am supposed to initiate it.” He is still fussing with the wires in his lap, not quite able to look up at you.

“You...want to kiss?” you surmise, your heart thumping wildly in your chest. “Me?”

“Very much so.”

A grin breaks across your face and the sharp sting of Tech’s previous rejection immediately melts away. You deposit the handful of resistors in a tray containing various tools Tech had been using throughout the day before taking a tentative step forward from behind the chair. He cranes his neck to look at you, an unfamiliar expression that you’re not quite able to decipher written across his face.

You reach your hand out to caress his cheek, and sliding your hand down to his chin to guide it upwards as you bend down to bring your lips to his. The kiss is chaste, at first, but Tech proves himself a quick study as slightly parts his lips to deepen the kiss. His goggles nudge against your face and you’re pretty sure you’re leaving a greasy cheek print on one of them.

You pull away to gauge his reaction.

“Was that... satisfactory?” he asks, seemingly dazed. His eyes are hooded and still focused on your lips.

“It was perfect.” You offer a small smile.

He removes the goggles to clean one side of them with a nearby cloth. So you were leaving a cheek print. Once his goggles are back in place, he’s looking at you like he can’t quite believe you’re real, his golden brown eyes blinking owlishly at you.

“I apologise for leaving you earlier. I did not anticipate you returning my affections – it did not seem probable. And I was, regrettably, not prepared,” he mumbles.

“Probable?” It’s your turn to malfunction. You want to usher a thousand reassurances at once.

“Well, no.” Tech shifts his weight uncomfortably, not quite able to meet your eyes. “Hunter or Crosshair usually are the ones who capture the affections of –,”

“I like your goggles,” you interrupt in a rush before you surge forward to press your lips against his, hoping to convey just how much you return his affections. It’s a messy, urgent kiss that Tech returns with equal fervour. His fingers find their way into your hair, pulling you closer.

When you finally break the kiss, you straighten your back and take both of his hands in yours and take small, hesitant steps backwards, encouraging Tech to stand. As he does, the project he is working on slides off of his lap and clatters to the floor. He pays it no attention as he closes the distance between you, his eyes darkened with lust. He kisses you with renewed purpose as his hands wrap around your waist, roaming across your body, before they settle firmly on your ass.

Your hips grind into his codpiece and Tech lets out a low groan that goes straight to your core. He moves to kiss the curve of your neck, sucking at the delicate skin and making you squirm. The dampness between your legs becomes apparent and you press yourself closer to him, desperate for friction where you need it the most. As if he can read your mind, he trails a hand from your ass and places it between your legs, grazing over your clit before cupping your cunt. You involuntarily rock into his hand and moan into his mouth, hardly recognising the sounds you’re making.

Tech’s hand abruptly stills as he draws back to meet your eyes. His expression mirrors yours: searching wide eyes filled with longing, a silent acknowledgement passes between you as you reach the point of no return.

And in that moment you are struck with the urge to want nothing more than his cock in your mouth.

“Can I?” you blurt, glancing downward, hoping he is able to intuit exactly what you are suggesting in that moment.

“You may.” You allow the grammatical correction to slip by. “But I’ve never–,” he begins.

You don’t break eye contact and you begin to drop to your knees. He’s looking at you with his eyes wide, mouth slack. Tech’s bulged codpiece is mere inches from your face, and it’s in that moment that you realise that you have no idea how to undress this man.

And this, this is when you start to worry.

Does it have a latch? Does it even come off?

Your eyes dart from left to right looking for some sort of hint as to how it could be removed. You’re half tempted to just plant a smooch on the armour or the kiss inside of his thigh and pretend that all of this was intentional.

“I can get that,” Tech helpfully chimes in, blessedly oblivious to your internal struggle. He removes the pelvic plate with ease and, to your relief, you can see the shape of his erection straining under a layer of thick black fabric. Black fabric that conforms to his body shape exceedingly well. You reach out to feel his length, gently cupping his balls through the fabric before applying more pressure as you palm his shaft. He soft groan escapes his lips.

It catches you a little off guard, actually, to see him so hard. Knowing he’s been hard underneath his armour this entire time. Wondering when else he’s been hard and you had been none the wiser.

His cock has an attractive silhouette – it’s thicker than you expected and you can feel the patch of pre-cum that dampens the black fabric near his tip. You reach for his waistband and pull it down before slowly wrapping a hand around his shaft. He hisses with the contact and brings a white-knuckled fist to his lips.

You peer up at him through your lashes and you lick your lips, preparing to tease him a bit before taking him as deep as you can manage.

And that’s when something inside Tech snaps.

He looks down at you with wild eyes and places his hand on the back of your head to guide your mouth to his cock, apparently unable to continue the role of a passive observer for any longer. Clearly intent at putting his newfound research to good use. You lick a wet stripe from the base to the tip, before taking him in your mouth, the pre-cum tangy on your tongue. His grip tightens on your hair the same time he tilts his hips forward to push his cock further and you hollow your cheeks, sucking hard enough to make Tech groan and his knees buckle. He braces himself against the back of the pilot’s chair, captivated at the sight your mouth stretched around his length.

You begin to bob your head in a steady rhythm, taking him as deep as you’re able. You drag your tongue and press it flush on the underside of his cock, looking up at Tech with wide doe eyes, batting your eyelashes prettily as he struggles to maintain composure. You continue your pace until sweat starts to bead at his temple and his breathing becomes less controlled.

Patience isn’t your strong point and you’re too pent up not to touch yourself. You bring your free hand down your trousers, between your thighs, running your fingers through your wet folds and hum at the sensation. Tech’s hips stutter with the vibrations and his face contorts in what looks like a pained grimace. He takes a miniature step back and your lips leave his cock with a pop. He’s breathing heavily now and his weeping cock is painfully hard, his balls tight.

“I don’t want to finish in your mouth, mesh’la,” he pants, voice low.

You nod dumbly, currently unable to form a coherent thought or tear your eyes away from his erect length, only inches away from your face.

Tech takes hold of both of your forearms, helping you get to your feet, before wrapping his hands around your thighs, picking you up with surprising ease. You lock your thighs around his torso as he strides over to press you against one of the auxiliary control panels adjacent to the co-pilot’s chair in the cockpit. The incline on the panel is steep and the pressure of his hips against yours is the only thing keeping you from sliding down.

“Let me taste you,” Tech groans against your ear.

You let out a frustrated whine and desperately move to unclasp your trousers as Tech works to open your shirt. You shudder once the cool air hits your sweat-dampened skin and Tech messily palms your exposed breast while nipping at your neck. He helps you shimmy out of your clothing while holding you in firmly place before discarding them on the floor of he Marauder.

And this is how you find yourself spread eagle on the Marauder's control panel in possibly the most undignified position you’ve ever been in.

He goes to remove his goggles and you stop him.

“If they’re not uncomfortable for you, I’d like for you to leave them on.” He quirks a brow at you, quizzical. “What? I told you that they’re cute.”

His face evolves from sceptical to bashful in a few moments.

“Very well, then. I can leave them on.”

Tech moves his hands under your thighs as he lowers himself, draping your legs across each of his shoulders with surprising gentleness for a man who looks like he is ready to devour you. Once he’s on his knees and comfortably supporting your weight, keeping you pressed against the console, he places an open-mouthed kiss on the inside of your thigh.

“A-are you okay with this?” you manage to stutter out. It’s not like you haven’t pictured his head between your thighs before, but something about his head actually being between your thighs fills you with a nervousness you hadn’t anticipated.

He mumbles his assurances against your clit. He begins with slow, languid licks and you suck in a sharp breath as you feel yourself craving more and have to stop yourself from violently bucking your hips up.

Okay, so he’s actually really good at this. You know you really shouldn’t be that surprised, Tech is nothing if not thorough with his research and it’s, er, practical applications. Any thoughts of humour at Tech’s expense are, however, ripped from your mind when he sinks a single finger inside your cunt. His finger curls with a precision that only Tech could manage and you moan in encouragement as he pumps it in and out.

You squirm when he hits the spot that makes you want to beg for more and you feel your bare ass hit a button on the console. The next thing you hear is a soft swish swish sound of the Marauder's screen wipers that you inadvertently turned on. Mercifully, it doesn’t break Tech’s concentration and his hands continue to grip your hips, holding your cunt to his face.

“Don’t stop, don’t stop, please don’t stop,” you chant. You writhe again and another button sounds its activation. Nothing immediately makes itself known. You hope it’s not something like a proton torpedo firing into the swampy area the Marauder landed in. Not because there’s anything nearby, but because you’ll die if Tech stops here.

He moans into your core as he brings a hand down to grip his leaking cock, desperate for some friction.

“Kriff,” you grunt at the sight of him fucking his fist, only to hear Tech utter the same exclamation at the same time.

“Is there an echo in here or something?” You smile at him, offering a half-laugh before your face contorts with pleasure once again and you hiss through your teeth.

“Yes?” a new, tinny voice chimes in on the overhead speaker system. “This is Echo... You’ve, uh, turned on the short range comm system.”

You knew Tech was a good soldier, but the reflexes in which he slammed the short range comm transmitter with his free hand surprised you. He didn’t move himself from between your thighs and skilfully cut off the transmission while continuing to work your clit with his tongue and your cunt with his finger.

Before you could die from embarrassment and wonder just how much Echo and the rest of the Batch heard, Tech adds another finger and your entire body jerks and tenses.

“I’ve – ah, right there – Maker, that feels good. I’ve never been with anyone who is patient enough to let me come,” you manage to say through gritted teeth.

“My research indicated that it can take around 20 standard minutes for women to orgasm if properly relaxed, why would others stop prematurely?” Tech replies, only briefly removing his mouth from your cunt to reply.

“Selfishness?” you guess.

Tech seemed to take your admission (and ability to form sentences) personally, clearly intent on rendering you incapacitated. He returns to his attention to your clit and maintains his rhythm, teasing a third finger near your entrance. You whine at the sensation and move to hold Tech’s head in place, because if he stops now, there’s no way you’ll ever forgive him. The pressure that’s been mounting in your core finally, finally peaks and your entire body tenses as you surrender to your climax.

“Tech,” you whine, unable to formulate thoughts, let alone words.

He assures you with a soft groan and tightens his grip on your hip. He can feel your walls clenching around his fingers as he guides you through your climax.

As you come down from your orgasm, you feel like you’ve spent a year in bacta. You can’t move. Honestly, your bones are like Andorian jelly. The feeling is only temporary, however, as you’re overcome with the desire – no, need – to be filled.

“In me,” you urge. “Now.”

He adjusts his goggles and looks at you, spread out, completely ready for him.

“Lie back then.”

Tech settles between your thighs and nudges his cock head against your entrance. He takes a breath to steady himself, rubbing his length through your folds, covering it in your arousal.

“So wet and ready for me, mesh’la.”

Your hands wildly grasp at his chest plate, fingernails scratching along the plastoid, desperate to hold onto anything to anchor you. You meet his mouth with a graceless kiss, before he finally sinks into you.

“You’re tight,” he grits out.

He waits a few moments letting you adjust to his size before he begins to move. He restrains himself, slowly rolling his hips as your cunt stretches around his length.

“More,” you plead, breathlessly. “Please.”

Your encouragement is all he needs before he snaps his hips against yours, setting an unrelenting rhythm. He rocks into you harder with each thrust of his hips, his plastoid leg places slapping your skin.

“You feel so good, cyar'ika,” he pants. You surge upwards to greet his lips with a messy kiss, which only spurs him on to fuck you faster. “You’re, ah, taking me so well.”

“Fuck –,” you whine.

His grip tightens and his whole body starts to tense – he’s dangerously close to coming undone. And that’s when you notice his pace start to slow, his movements clearly distracted.

“Tech?” you mumble. You focus your eyes on his face and he looks dazed, you can practically hear him thinking. You’re about to ask him what’s wrong, but he doesn’t give you any time to panic.

“Elevate your hips by seven to ten degrees,” he states through heavy breaths.

“What?” Definitely not what you were expecting him to say.

Tech seems unfazed by your apparent annoyance. He wordlessly repositions himself, grabbing both of your hips and raising them slightly, holding your body up so it’s just the sharp incline of the console and Tech’s hands keeping you in place.

He began thrusting in earnest again, his eyes screwing shut in pleasure. And, Maker, he was right. The new angle hits a spot that makes your toes curl and you lose the ability to speak almost instantly and mewl helplessly as Tech fucks into you.

You made an undignified noise as you gripped his bicep, desperate to hold onto something, feeling the pressure mount in your core. With Tech’s hands busy holding you in place as he maintains a brutal pace, you bring a hand down to your clit, still wet with spit and your own essence. You barely have to touch yourself before you feel your body screaming for release.

“’M coming,” is all the warning you are able to give him before your cunt spasms around his twitching cock as your vision whites out. Tech grunts at the sensation, unable to hold his own climax off any longer.

“Where do you want me to –,” he grates out.

“Anywhere,” you cut him off, still feeling the aftershocks of your orgasm. “Just want to feel you.”

“Fuck, mesh’la, I’m going to come,” Tech groans, desperately chasing his release with harsh thrusts. His hips forcefully buck into you before his cock stiffens and he spills himself inside of you. He buries his face in your neck, slowly pumping you full of his cum, before he slumps against you. “Bid jate par me,” he mumbles into your neck, barely audible. “Gotal par me.”

You don’t know Mando’a, but whatever he is saying, the way he is saying it, sends a pleasant chill over your body.

You’re both still breathing heavily when Tech gingerly places you back down with a surprising gentleness for someone who had just been fucking you within an inch of your life. He’s in no rush to remove himself from you, but when his softened cock does slip out and his cum leaks out of you and onto the console, he helps you slide down. When your feet touch the floor, your legs wobble slightly and Tech has to grasp your forearms to steady you, softly chuckling at the state you’re in.

And when you look at him, he looks positively debauched. Sated, but debauched. You probably look worse.

In one swift motion he bends down, brings an arm down under your knees, and lifts you up. You wrap your arms around your neck while he carries you to his bunk. His cool armour against your overheated skin is a welcome sensation and you press yourself closer.

“Your research paid off,” you mumble into his chest as he sets you down on his bed.

“Please do not act so surprised by that.”

++++++++++++++++++++

You and Tech aren’t quite finished with the repairs by the time the Batch return hours later, long after the moons have risen and the bioluminescent plants surrounding the ship have begun to glow. If the squad notice you’re sitting a bit too close to Tech, your thigh pressing comfortably against his, they don’t say anything.

Neither of you were expecting to defile the Marauder all day and Tech was frantically fixing the lever on a storage hatch access panel, attempting to make up for lost time.

“Wrecker!” Echo shouts. “Clean up after yourself, for kriff’s sake.”

“Why?” Wrecker drawls, stomping towards the cockpit. “What did I do this time?”

“You’ve spilled your juice on the console again, all the keys are stuck in place.”

The access lever snaps clean off in Tech’s hands.

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shoutogepi · 4 years

Text

Worth the Wait

Todoroki Shouto

word count : 9.2k

[ ☁︎, ☀︎, ✘ (nsfw 18+) ] (v lowkey angst//fluff)

themes : virgin!Shouto, experienced!reader (well, more than Sho anyway lol), praise kink?, lil baby couples quarrel, make up sex, and also he’s kinda hung lmfao idk if that’s relevant 💀

bio : You can’t help but notice that every time things start to heat up with your Pro-Hero boyfriend, he shuts you down. After politely ignoring his initial rejections, your frustrations build up, and you decide to confront him.

author’s note : so this fic was inspired by a conversation with the lovely astrid ( @todoscript ), who is becoming my cherished shouto confidante! we didn’t talk about it for very long, and it was awhile ago... but my brain would not move on so… this happened. i figured if i’m going to type so much about him i may as well write a fic. thanks for listening to my constant yelling, hope you enjoiii <3

side note : both shouto and reader are meant to be young adults in this fic!! i was thinking somewhere around 25-30 (i didn’t specify the age in the fic) but i thought i would make note of this as that’s considered “old” to still have your v-card, by American society at least (hence why sho kept that info from reader)

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

🅃he first time it happened, you tried to play it off as if you hadn’t made a move.

The last few of your friends had finally departed from the Saturday game night you had thrown, leaving just you, Shouto, and the slow, hot tango of your tongues. You hadn’t seen each other all week— with him being busy with his hero work, and you being busy with your comparatively-mundane job, you didn’t get to spend as much time together as you would have liked. Although it was an obstacle for your relationship, you were both young adults as well as devoted professionals, which allowed the two of you to remain on the same page most of the time. It was typical for you to text and call one another for a few hours after work (granted you both had the time to spare) before passing out mid-conversation, your phone screen still lit up and gentle snores exchanged through the speakers. But like any sane girlfriend, having him in person, right in front of you, was always your favorite.

What had started as a peck had quickly evolved into a full on make-out session— Shouto had pulled you halfway onto his lap when you tried to move back from your initially-stealthy kiss, an appreciative hum rumbling through him as his large hands cupped around your face. You didn’t fight him as he brought your lips back to his, and you failed to stop him when those very same hands began to glide down your back, parking just above your ass. His fingers had gradually started to fiddle with the tops of your jeans, thumb running over the denim and dipping down to graze against your skin through your thin blouse.

Yet when your hands slipped underneath the bottom of his shirt, he pulled back from you, heterochromatic eyes guarded as he removed your hands. You had immediately picked up on his reluctance, and threw yourself off of him onto the other side of the couch, embarrassment scorching the back of your neck. Shouto left not long after that, for you had made up some lousy excuse that you were tired and would like to go to sleep, when sleep was really the opposite of your innermost desires.

This would have been all fine and good— because consent was consent after all, and you had no intentions of pushing him to do something he was uncomfortable with— had the same thing not happened just two weeks later. There you were thinking it would be a cute, coupley evening of watching movies and tossing popcorn at each other, resting your head against his shoulder and being content with just that— when then all of the sudden he was pinning you onto the sheets and kissing you til you couldn’t breathe. His hands, once again, wandered all over your clothed torso, palms mapping out each dip and curve as his tongue entertained yours in your mouth.

You were hesitant to kiss him at first, recalling how you had horrifically killed the mood last time, but as his advances became more passionate, you slowly allowed your defenses to slip back, excitement building inside of you. It was only when your legs tightened around his waist, your core brushing up along his thigh and causing you to let out the softest moan did he pull back. That same calm, cool expression was on his face, though his eyes were a bit wider than usual. There was also the tiniest hint of pink dusting his pale cheeks, his lips parted as he gathered himself. It was rather awkward after that— neither of you really knew what to say— so you crawled back to your spot and sat in silence for the rest of the movie, your hands eventually wandering out to hold onto each other. After sharing a soft kiss and exchanging “goodnight”s, you returned to your place, ready for an extra long appointment with your vibrator.

Unfortunately for you, this became a common occurrence. It wasn’t that you hated the steamy make-out sessions with your as-hot-as-they-come boyfriend, no— you thoroughly enjoyed them. The part that you absolutely loathed was returning to your place with your panties soaked all the way through, your sexual frustration meter only climbing higher and higher.

You loved your boyfriend! And of course you respected his wishes. You would wait for however long he wanted, because you wanted your first time together to be special. But fuck, did he have to heat you up just to leave you hanging every time? If he wanted to wait, then fine! But, God, what had you done to deserve this torture? You couldn’t get past first base— you’d never even rubbed your body erotically against his except for that time on his bed, and that was by accident!

And that was what you told the ladies during your Thursday night all-girl conference call, finally needing to vent and get this selfish feeling off your chest. It had been a long time coming, quietly brewing over the many instances of him stunting your advances that you came to a realization.

Enough was enough! You were going to ask him why he wouldn’t go any further with you, and whatever his answer may be, at least you would know what he was thinking! You felt like a weight had been lifted off of you, the girls cheering you on and wishing you luck as you said goodbye, ready to confront him.

— - — - — - — - —

Now that you’re standing here in front of his door, it seems like a foolish plan you’ve made. Your heart is beating out of your chest, thumping frantically against your ribcage as your fist is frozen in the air, knuckle about to connect with the door. Your stomach feels tight and low, throat dry with apprehension as your brain runs through every possible outcome. What would he say once you ask him your question?

Perhaps your breath stinks and it turns him off? Or maybe he doesn’t like the perfume you wear— or is it the way you dress that he doesn’t like? What if the reason he always stops you… is because he’s not sexually attracted to you?

Now that you think about it, you’ve never seen him pop a boner during your tongue wrestling matches, and the realization nearly causes your soul to leave your body. Even though the thought horrifies you, you try your best to reassure yourself that’s not the case. You had caught Shouto checking you out on multiple occasions, his eyes igniting a delicious heat on your skin. Whatever the case, you’re in this too deep to chicken out now. So with that, you let your knuckles rap on the door, steeling your nerves.

There’s a moment of quiet shuffling before your boyfriend opens the door, a pleasantly surprised smile on his face. His hair is wet and freshly washed, shining droplets collecting at the ends and making him appear even more handsome than usual. The gray tee thrown over his broad shoulders has damp spots from the runoff, and you take a second to admire the way his chest looks in the clingy material. “Hey, love,” he says, his voice alone causing goosebumps to rise along your forearms.

You allow him to guide you into his apartment, the door clicking shut behind him quietly. “Hi Sho,” you greet back, wrapping your arms around his shoulders and leaning up to kiss him.

Shouto chuckles against your eager lips, long arms gathering you into his chest. When he pulls away, he tucks your head underneath his chin, placing another kiss on your crown. “I missed you.”

Your heart throbs, happiness surging through you and butterflies bursting into your stomach. “I missed you more,” you reply playfully, burying your face between his broad pecs and inhaling his warm, wintery scent. The smell of fresh detergent lingers on the fabric, mixing with his clean aroma and making your tummy flip in circles.

“Impossible,” Shouto quips back, holding your waist tight as he dips you backwards just enough for your feet to leave the ground before he presses his lips to yours again, rendering you breathless. He pulls you back upright after a moment, a cheeky smirk on his face as you try to remember what you were talking about before. “Come in, sit down. I was just finishing up some work, I’ll get you something to drink.”

Following his instruction, you move further into his apartment, gravitating toward the couch and inspecting the files laid out on the coffee table before you. The words blur together for you, the foreign hero work forms long and in what might as well be another language. You lean back onto the cushions as Shouto returns, a glass of water in his hand. Frost forms on the glass as he hands it to you, taking a seat beside you with his knee brushing against yours. You smile at his consideration, taking a small sip even though you’re not really thirsty.

“Was there something you came over here for specifically, love? Forgive me if I’ve forgotten, but I don’t believe we had plans?” He’s looking directly at you, eyes locked with yours as his hand comes to land on the top of your knee. Even just an innocent movement like that has you on alert, your breath catching in your throat as he gives a gentle squeeze.

“Uh… no reason,” you answer lamely, crumbling under the pressure of his watchful eyes. “Just wanted to see you.”

Shouto’s gaze lingers on you carefully, and for a second you feel like you’ve been caught in a trap. But he lets it go, his lips forming a soft smile as he lays his arm around your shoulders. “Well, I’m glad to see you too,” he replies honestly. His fingers caress your arm as his hand falls down to your waist, and he leans in to press another kiss to your cheek. You lean into his affection, mouth curving in content. “So, what would you like to do?” Shouto asks as he shuffles the files away into their manilla envelopes, creating a neat pile in the far corner of the table. He leans back into the cushions, fingers fondly stroking at your side. “We could go out to eat? We could try this new bar afterwards, too, it’s across from my agency. If you’re alright to go out.”

You can’t focus on his words, really— you’re too lost in your own thoughts. Why does he have to touch you like this every time, when if you act on it, he’ll only push you away? You’ve been together for a long while now, and still, he doesn’t take initiative to further your relationship. Every bone you’ve thrown his way has been perfectly deflected, with no sign of weariness from him. If he doesn’t want you, is it because he’s not into you anymore?

An ugly thought rears its head in the midst of your anxiety’s dark clouds.

Maybe he never was.

Taking your silence as an answer, Shouto continues on, looking towards the kitchen over his shoulder. “Or we could buy groceries and make dinner. I think I have bok choy in the fridge, but we’ll have to buy some meat. And noodles, if you want those instead of rice. I’m sure I have that sesame sauce you like, I—” He pauses as you grab his hand, your fingers looping tight around his warm palm, sliding them to rest on your thigh.

With the summer just fading into fall, you were wearing something to showcase the smooth expanse of your thighs, and as you guide his hand to touch your soft skin, a delicate blush blooms across Shouto’s cheeks. The flustered expression on his face only goads you on, and you lean in to capture his lips.

A muffled noise escapes him, your hand coming up to touch his jaw and rub your thumb against his chin. It only takes him a moment to recalibrate before his free hand rises and copies your actions, gliding down the back of your neck before pulling your face closer to his.

You run your tongue against the seam of his mouth, and he swiftly grants you access as his lips move to follow yours. He tastes like mint and sweet herbs, the tea he was entertaining before you came lingering on his tongue. His hand slips out of yours to curl around your waist, grabbing onto your hip and squeezing. As your kisses start getting heavier and slower, your once-occupied hand moves to land on his chest, your thumb pushing into the tender muscle located there. His flesh jumps beneath your touch, but he allows you to continue groping at him through his shirt, his own hands beginning to knead at you. Before you know it, your knee swings over his thighs and you’re hovering on top of his lap, not sitting down on him just yet as you realize the position you’ve put yourself in.

You can notice the change— you’ve faced this exact scenario many times before. Shouto’s hands freeze up, locking into their current position, and he only returns your passionate kisses, not allowing his body much more movement than that. You try to just keep kissing him, but all the doubts and fears quickly pile up inside of you, and you pull away from him. You can’t even look at him. You’re too scared to speak, and too reluctant to get off of him, only leaning back to create a divide between his face and yours. Trying to hide your face before he can see your defeated expression, you dive into his chest, arms folding tight around his neck.

Shouto’s still frozen in place, but he seems to sense your distress. His arms slowly circle around your waist, fingers moving to trace up and down your spine. He softly exhales against your hair, letting out the breath he was holding in ever since you swung onto his lap. “Y/N? Are you alright?” he asks quietly after a brief pause, his voice soft and low, soothing to your wary ears. “You haven’t been acting like yourself today…”

After a long pause, you sigh, trying your best not to get emotional. “It’s just…” I’m so fucking attracted to you but you won’t let me touch you, you want to say, but you’re too terrified to say it aloud. What can you even say to him that would be better than that?

Shouto’s arms around you squeeze gently, indicating his patience in awaiting your answer. “It’s okay,” he murmurs, his lips grazing over your ear and placing a discreet kiss there. “Whatever it is, we can face it together.”

You let out a soft sniffle and Shouto pulls you tighter into his chest, his heart cracking at your sound of sadness. But his words bring a surprising amount of comfort to you, and you clear your throat before you lean back again, looking into his two-toned irises. His gaze is sympathetic, his eyes holding a visible amount of affection and support. “Well, I…”

He nods slightly, leaning forward to show his encouragement. “Go ahead, love…”

“Are… Are you attracted to me?”

It comes out more high-pitched than you would’ve liked, but at least it’s out— and he definitely heard you, judging from the wide-eyed shock painted across his face.

“Am I— What?” He stutters, his head tilting automatically in confusion. “I— of course I’m attracted to you, I’m… you’re my girlfriend.” Shouto looks at you incredulously, his arms falling to his side so that only his hands remain on your hips. “You’re the most attractive person I know, love. You’re gorgeous, inside and out,” he elaborates. “The whole package.”

His compliments butter you up, a small smile forming on your lips as you shyly look to your hands folded in your lap. “Not the whole package…” you mumble, squirming slightly as his hands come to hold either side of your face.

“Yes, the whole package,” he insists, nuzzling your nose against his. “Beautiful,” he declares as he kisses your cheek.

“Kind.” A smooch to the other cheek.

Your heart beats excitedly in your chest, thumping loudly against your ribs with each compliment.

“Courageous.” A kiss to the chin.

“Witty.” A peck to the forehead.

“Sexy?” you blurt it out just as he swoops in to press his lips to yours.

Shouto falters, pulling back just a hair as he looks at you in shock. “S-Sexy?” He doesn’t mean for it to come out as a question, but by the way his cheeks and ears are tinged a bright pink, it’s clear your suggestion was a bit too much for him.

The way he stutters out the adjective in confusion has your heart tearing in two. “Y-You don’t…?”

You’re staring directly at him, his wide eyes locked with yours and his body frozen to the couch. His lips are slightly parted, but no words come out of him.

Silence.

This is not how you want this conversation to go— you aren’t prepared for it to go like this. The tears you had successfully fought off before come back with vengeance.

Only once Shouto sees you hang your head in embarrassment, your eyes getting glassier by the second, he springs into action. “Hey, no, that’s not…” he starts to speak, sounding more worried by the second. His hand goes to cup your face, the warmth of his quirk evident in his touch as his finger dries over a fresh track of tears on your cheek. “I… of course I think you’re sexy, love. I’m sorry, you just caught me by surprise… You don’t think I know how sexy you are?”

You can only reply with a lame shrug, unwilling to let his eyes meet yours as you hide your face behind your curtain of hair. You try to slide off his lap, ready to retreat to the bathroom and wipe away your pathetic tears, but Shouto doesn’t let you move away from him, his arms locking tight around your waist and forcing you to lean against his chest.

“Talk to me, baby,” he pleads, nuzzling into the side of your face. His voice is more gentle than you’ve ever heard before, and you hate to admit your stomach is doing cartwheels at how sweet he’s being. “I love you no matter what, and I hate to see you so upset. I’m not good at figuring these things out on my own, just tell me what’s wrong, love. Please?”

He gives you a few moments to gather yourself, his fingers massaging your stiff muscles as you cling onto him. Once you’re confident enough to speak, your words come out barely loud enough for him to hear. “It’s just that… whenever I think we’re about to take it to the next level, you pull away. I want to respect your boundaries, Sho, but I can’t help but feel like it’s because you don’t… want me.” The hands on your body still at that, your boyfriend taking in a sharp breath as you pause, then decide to continue. “I’m just… so attracted to you, Shouto… I want to be mindful of your limits, but I can’t help but want to touch you all the time. I’m— I’m sorry if that sounds indecent.”

Shouto murmurs your name lowly against your ear, his large palm once again rubbing over your spine in an effort to comfort you as he tries to piece together the correct words. “This is… a terrible miscommunication, and it’s all my fault...” he sighs, his voice dropping lower and becoming quieter, his insecurities leaking into his voice. “I’m so sorry to have made you feel like this… I promise that’s not the case.”

His words are enough to numb your worries, and you lean back so you’re able to look him in the eye as you wait for him to continue. He takes a deep breath before he sighs again, knowing he has to tell you the truth now, but worrying that he’s about to ruin everything the two of you have built over these past months.

“The reason that I push you away every time is… well, I—” he gulps nervously, and it’s your turn to look at him with encouragement. You take one of his hands in yours, rubbing your thumb over his knuckles as he tries to find the best way to explain his reasoning. “It’s not because you’re unattractive, it’s— I mean, if anything, you’re too… too attractive, and I get…” he trails off, his cheeks now a bright shade of pink that you’ve never really seen before. It’s the first time you’ve seen the usually collected man so flustered, and a part of you feels guilty for causing him such discomfort. Just as you’re about to cut in and tell him he doesn’t have to continue, he does. “I… I’ve never been with anyone… like that before.”

You blink at him in confusion.

Shouto just seems to get even pinker, and he quickly starts explaining himself as he takes in your dazed expression. “I know you probably thought I had all this experience because I’ve been a top Hero for some time now, but I just— I never met anyone before that cared about me like this and I just never wanted to do— well, to do that with a stranger.”

“You’re… a virgin?”

Shouto’s red at this point, his hot side nearly catching fire as he buries his face behind his hand, too embarrassed to face you at this point. “Yes, I’m sorry to disappoint you, love. I just… I’ve never felt like this about anyone before and I— I wanted to impress you so badly, Y/N. I… I should’ve told you this from the start, I’m so sorry to have caused you such doubt.”

His voice is just above a whisper now, his fingers clutching onto the fabric of your shirt as if he’s afraid you’ll get off his lap and walk straight out the front door at his confession. “Shouto…” You can’t stop the smile that begins to curl the corners of your mouth. This is the reason he wouldn’t go any further with you? Not because he didn’t find you attractive? Your heart feels heavy thumping against your ribcage, giddiness flooding your bloodstream.

Your boyfriend gapes at your smile, brows furrowed in confusion. “Wait, you’re not… disappointed?” At the instant shake of your head, his discomfort eases significantly. “R-Really? But everyone thinks I’m, well… kind of a womanizer I guess, I thought you’d at least expect—”

You click your tongue at him, shaking your head as you tuck a piece of hair behind your ear. “When have I ever given a shit about others’ expectations of you, Shouto? I love you for you, Sho… you make me so happy just as you are.”

Shouto melts at your words, a sigh of relief escaping his lungs as he crushes you to his chest. Your sweet scent fills his nose as he kisses the top of your head, and you bask in his touch as you hug him back. “You’re right, love, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you sooner… I hate that you felt unwanted because of me. I promise, you’re the only one I’ve ever felt this way about, I— I’m so attracted to you as well. I love you so much.”

Your lips meet his in a passionate kiss, all the hurt and doubts that built over the last few months dissolving into the shadows. Only the light, warm feeling of your love is left behind, glowing brighter than ever before.

Shouto’s fingers crawl up the back of your neck, bringing your face closer to his as he deepens the kiss, his tongue sweeping across your lips before you allow him entrance. Your fingers push into his silky hair, nails gently scratching at his scalp and he groans at the action, letting your tongue take control and invade his mouth instead. Your breaths starting to become ragged, you both pull away for a moment to breathe. As you look into each others’ eyes, you both begin to laugh softly, the pair of you equally content with how your heart-to-heart had gone.

“So, you do think I’m sexy, then?” You smirk, pleased with this new knowledge.

Shouto chuckles, nudging your face to the side so he can place a trail of kisses down the column of your throat. “Is that all you got from that?” He teases, nipping at your skin playfully.

You close your eyes, enjoying how his love bites feel on your quickly-heating flesh. “One of a few things…” Your breathing becomes deeper as his lips begin to gently suck on the faded marks he’d just made. “Mmm, Sho~”

He hums as your arms wrap tight around his shoulders, tongue caressing the skin he’s sucked into his mouth. Your thighs twitch on either side of his lap when he pulls away, cold breath cooling the wet, darkened patch of skin on your throat. He swears under his breath as his hands trail down your waist to your hips, thumbs resting on the top of your bottoms.

“Would you, um… want to try something new, then?” You offer, sitting back to look him in the eye, ready to catch any amount of uncertainty in his two-toned gaze. But you find none, for he captures your lips again and nibbles on your bottom lip, another hum or approval vibrating against your mouth.

From there he hands the reins to you, opting to lean back into the cushions of the sofa as your tongue guides his in a slow embrace. Your palms both land on his chest, fingertips starting to massage the thick muscles underneath his t-shirt. Shouto sighs as your hands slide down his torso, and just as they dip underneath he sits up slightly, tearing the flimsy material over his head in one quick sweep. With the fabric out of your way, you try to keep yourself calm, your eyes now feasting on his broad, sculpted chest and abs. Saliva begins to pool in your mouth at the wonderful sight, your tongue poking out to wet your lips as you scan over his physique again and again.

Just as he’s about to make fun of your lustful stare, you move in to place a few light kisses to his jaw and neck, the action making him tense up and flex his gorgeous torso for you. Careful not to leave any marks on his throat, you make your way down his chest, taking a moment to leave a ring of wet smooches around his nipple. The muscles jump again for you, his body sensitive to your foreign touch as you slowly take the bud into your mouth, sucking just enough for him to squirm.

“That kind of… ahh, tickles,” Shouto mumbles as your tongue traces over his skin, his bottom lip between his teeth as you move to the other side of his chest and repeat the action. He sighs as you pull away, welcoming the kiss you place on his lips afterwards. His abs become rigid underneath the slow trail of your fingernails that move south, his eyes opening mid-way through the kiss as your hand grows closer and closer to his pelvis.

Just as he’s about to pull away, you move back from his mouth, your shirt flying over your head and onto the floor behind you. Shouto can barely breathe as he looks at your bare skin, the smooth expanse of your shoulders to your hips on display for him, save for the bra covering your chest. He’s fixated on the tops of your breasts, the round, smooth flesh mesmerizing him completely. Sure, he’s seen your cleavage before, but in comparison to this, that’s nothing.

“W-Wow…” he falters, struggling to tear his gaze off of them. There’s a little bow in the middle of the cloth contraption, and he can’t help but compare the sight before him to a present. Oh, how he wants to unwrap it…

You giggle at his awe-struck expression, your self-esteem soaring higher than it has in months. Just as you’re about to instruct him, he moves a hand to cup one side of your bra, his thumb running over your skin. A whimper escapes you when he squeezes you, his face moving closer so that the tip of his nose runs across your collarbone, his lips ghosting kisses across your chest. You wonder if he can feel your heart racing beneath his lips as they trace the cusp of your bra— how it races when he presses his face between your tits, inhaling the warm, clean smell of you that lingers there. “M-Mphhh, Sho…” you sigh as he sucks a hickey into your skin, his mouth pulling your flesh out from under the fabric cup.

Your hands fumble as they move behind your back to undo the clasp, but Shouto doesn’t have time for that, it seems. Instead, he opts to push the straps from your shoulders, tugging the bottom of the material down your ribs and completely exposing your chest to him without ever moving his mouth from your skin. You still manage to unclasp the confining material, letting it fall to the ground without a care. When he does finally let go of you, he moves back to examine your naked chest, his lower lip disappearing between his straight, white teeth. His eyes are half-lidded, and he dives straight back into your chest, circling around your areola with swift kisses and teasing licks, repeating the same process you had done to him. His warm mouth enveloping your nipple makes you let out a stifled cry, your hips jerking against his lap on their own accord.

Shouto moans at the movement, his hand gently squeezing your other breast as he sucks on the pert bud in his mouth, tongue swirling around it with ease. You reposition so your legs are on either side of one of his, placing your clothed core against the rough material of his jeans and beginning to move your hips in slow, wide movements. It only urges Shouto on, for he switches his attention to the other side of his chest and repeats the same ministrations there, one hand coming to cup your ass and move in tune with your slow gyrations.

At this point you can feel yourself leaking onto your panties, your excitement only multiplying as he allows you to grind against him. You’d never imagined he’d be so eager to touch you, after so much time of him rejecting your advances. But you couldn’t care about that now, with your pussy brushing all over his muscular thigh and his mouth attacking your bare chest. The thrill only increases further when you readjust your hips, moving closer to him and feeling the hardness of his erect cock tucked into the front of his pants. You can feel your cunt twitching around nothing, drooling even more for him as you rub yourself against his front, your head falling back as you start to pant.

Shouto whines at the friction, his face falling into the corner of your neck as he tries to gather himself. Was this what he had been missing out on all this time? He sighs as he wonders what you look like completely naked— how you would look with your legs spread for him, wrapped around his skull, or better yet— his waist. The knowledge that you want him is too tempting— he can’t get enough of you, can’t stop himself from shoving his thumbs under the hem of your bottoms. And then you’re standing, letting your clothing hit the floor and leaving yourself exposed for his eyes, save for your panties which have another little bow at the front. His eyes travel up and down your legs— a part of you that has always attracted him, perhaps a bit too much. They look delicious presented like this before him, bare and inviting all along your calves and thighs, then leading to the panties that barely cover your hips. His cock twitches in his jeans as he inspects the marks he’d just made all across your chest, a possessive conscience inside of him murmuring its satisfaction.

“Is this okay?” You ask as you sink to your knees in front of the couch, looking up at him with cautious, yet lust-ridden eyes. The recognition of your desire makes his own appetite spike, and he nods his affirmation to you.

You smirk up at him, moving closer to him and sliding between his legs. He holds his breath as you start to kiss up his thigh, starting from the inside of his knee and moving your way toward your destination. Your hand reaches up to soothe down his chest, your other hand cupping the underside of his thigh and moving in sync with your mouth. Your fingers finally meet the button on his jeans, and he lets out the breath he was holding as you undo the metal zipper. He helps you peel the denim off his thighs, leaving the material bunched at his knees as you inspect his hard member through his tight, black boxer-briefs. You take a moment to thank whatever God there is for blessing you with such a nice cock; you can tell even through his underwear that he’s long, and thick.

The very tip pokes out of the band at the top, him having tucked it up at some point when the pair of you were initially making out. What you can see is dark pink and glazed with a pearlescent sheen of pre-cum, the material at the top of his briefs slightly damp. The legs on either side of you keep tensing and fidgeting, and as you reach a hand for his shaft his hips shift backwards, away from your touch.

“Hey,” you murmur softly, stroking his thigh as you look up at him. His expression is guarded, but you can see the uncertainty that shines through his gaze, the mask that successfully keeps others out futile to you. “Are you sure you want to continue? It’s okay if we stop here, baby.” You push yourself to sit taller using the tops of his knees, placing a long kiss to his cheek and giving him a nuzzle of understanding.

Shouto frowns, leaning into you and taking a deep breath. “No, I want to… I just, I guess I’m a little nervous? I’m not quite sure what to do…” he explains, unsure of himself.

“You don’t have to do anything,” you reply, kissing his cheek again as you continue. “Just sit back and relax, baby. I promise I’m gonna take care of you, gonna make you feel so good. Let me know if you want to stop at any time, alright?”

He smiles at your understanding, nodding and verbalizing an “Alright” before you capture his lips with yours. You kiss him with all the passion you can muster, and it distracts him enough to relax into the couch cushions, your hand coming up to cup his sharp jawline. Your tongues are busy tangling together when your hand lands on his abs, which jump under your touch but eventually they, too, relax after a few minutes.

When your fingers wrap around his cock through his briefs, he tenses underneath you again, his hips pushing toward you as your hand starts to move up and down. Shouto makes a muffled noise as your hand finds a steady, torturously slow rhythm, your hand squeezing around his thick shaft through the dark, cotton material. His hand comes up to the back of your neck to deepen the kiss, fingers curling into the hair at the nape of your neck and pulling slightly. You move your hand in accordance with the muffled sounds that escape him through your kiss, his hushed moans adding fuel to the inferno in your stomach.

After a few minutes of your slow, over-the-briefs handjob, you move back from his searing kiss, a string of saliva extending between your mouths. Your eyes lock with his, intensity sizzling as you both move the briefs off his legs, his cock springing upright in the bottom field of your vision. His length jumps when your fingers brush against the tip, gathering the silvery slickness of his pre-cum and using it to coast your fist down around his shaft, squeezing just enough to create a pleasant tightness around him.

Shouto swears as you start to jerk your fist around his thickness, your smaller hand creating a different sensation and much more appealing visual than the sight of his own fingers wrapped around himself. He moans when your hand glides over the head of his cock, his grip tightening on your hair as his eyelids flutter closed. You kiss his cheek again, catching his attention as he turns to you and allows your tongue to enter his mouth. You take all the whimpers pouring from his lips and greedily swallow them, your lips dancing with his in tune with your strokes.

Slowly you move away from his face, his lips following yours until you gently push him back to rest against the back of the sofa again. He allows you to move him backwards, heaving for air as your hot and heavy kisses leave him breathless. Once you lower your face to his lap, he tenses up, although his hips shuffle forward eagerly. You make sure to lock eyes with him as you move your mouth towards the flushed head of his cock, and you keep his gaze steady as your lips wrap around the very tip of him.

“S-Shit Y/N,” he gasps, watching as his member gradually disappears into your mouth. You glide your lips down his thick length slowly, trying not to overwhelm him as you start to suck on the tip, your hand beginning to jerk his shaft at the same time. When your lips move down, so does your hand, and as Shouto becomes accustomed to the wet, tight heat of your mouth, you slowly take more and more of him into your mouth, until the head of his cock brushes the back of your throat. Shouto throws his head back onto the top of the cushions, a hand pushing his hair off his forehead and backwards as he loudly voices his pleasure in a cacophony of moans.

The noises that slither out of the man underneath you are delicious, and you can’t seem to get enough as your pace begins to pick up. Your hand is still wrapped around the base of his length, his cock too big to fit all the way in your throat, but that doesn’t stop you from trying to take him anyways. Pulling back just long enough to take in a breath of fresh air, you smile at his wrecked expression above you, tongue tracing over your lips. “Mmm, does that feel good, baby? Do you like when I suck your cock like this?”

“Ahhaaaa, fuck— y-yeah, like that, baby… yesyesyes you feel so good,” Shouto blabbers nearly incoherently as your throat glides around his aching member. Given his stuttered response, you happily service him, content to finally have him at your disposal. His length is too impressive to comfortably fit in your mouth, your jaw stretching to accommodate him as you swallow around him, successfully stealing a broken gasp from him in response. You close your eyes and allow yourself to focus on keeping a steady rhythm for both your mouth and hand to follow. His moans just keep getting louder, a breathless array of oh, fuck, shit, yeah, ahh, and yeses with every bob of your head.

As you’re diligently sucking him off, Shouto is barely keeping it together underneath you. His cock is twitching and leaking pre-cum down your throat, his balls heavy with the need to release. He watches your lips move up and down his length, your hand following suit at the very base. His mind wanders as he wonders where you want him to finish; inside your mouth, on your tits, on your face? He groans as he pictures all three, imagining you covered in his sticky seed, wherever it may end up, has him feeling close much too quick. But he can’t stop himself, and he can’t bring himself to stop you, either— you feel so fucking good on his cock. You’re better than he ever could imagine, and it’s just your mouth that’s wrapped around him— he can’t even imagine how between your legs will feel. He barely manages to mumble your name in warning as he feels his climax coming, too charged for him to do anything to stop it.

Luckily you already know he’s about to finish, for his muscles tighten up and strain as ample warning for his imminent release. You move your lips down his cock, taking in as much as you can before he’s calling out your name and shooting a thick, heavy load down your throat. You choke on his release, not much room in your mouth to begin with, with how long and thick he is already. He’s still gushing cum as you pull off of him, a few ropes of white spraying across your lips and chin while his body shakes in ecstasy.

You sit back and wipe his release off your face with your wet hand, licking the excess off your skin as you watch Shouto’s soul return to his body. He’s struggling to catch his breath, eyes barely open as he looks down at you sitting between his legs. Despite the heaviness in his limbs, he still gathers your arms in his hands, pulling you up onto the sofa to hover over his lap. He sighs as he nuzzles his face into your neck, your soft skin helping to draw him back from the euphoric heaven you had just sent him to. His arms wrapping around you loosely, he starts to kiss your neck, his long eyelashes tickling your jaw as he showers your skin in affection. His attention makes butterflies flap around inside your stomach, and that scorching heat ignites again as his fingers slide down your waist to the band of your panties.

You try to draw back to look at him, but Shouto’s grip on you is too secure, and he won’t let you pull away from him as he just nuzzles deeper into your neck. You can’t help but gasp when his fingers dive underneath the sides of your panties— his palms gliding against your bare hips and digits splaying across your ass. “S-Sho,” you whine as he cups your ass cheeks, pulling your hips to slot above his, his cock already erect again. You whimper when he guides you closer to him, the very tip of his cock catching at just the right angle to brush against the wet patch on your underwear. Hell, the whole underside of your panties is soaked with your arousal, your pussy probably more saturated than ever before. You’re so turned on, you can’t think straight as your hips begin to weakly shift back and forth, rubbing his cockhead along your clothed slit.

Shouto sighs as his hand recedes from your panties, instead moving to rub your dripping slit through the drenched material. You moan at the feeling of his hand through the fabric, your slick in such quantity that when he pulls his hand away, a thick string of your arousal trails after his fingers. He groans at the sight, rubbing his thumb and forefinger together to test the viscosity. He makes a mental note that this must be what’s meant when one has a “wap”, or “wet ass pussy”, as he recalls from a certain song. His heart is racing in his chest, the discovery of your cunt so ready for him only making his cock strain harder against your sopping panties.

“So wet…” Shouto mumbles as he touches you again, cupping your core through your underwear and rubbing his palm against your clit. He watches intently as your face contorts in pleasure, and he rolls his palm against your front again experimentally, making a mental note of your increased sensitivity there.

Before he moves any further though, he presses his lips to yours in an intense kiss, successfully distracting you as he slides your underwear to the side. He can feel your pussy twitch and contract against his hand when he lines the tips of two fingers up with the hole that your slick is pouring out of. And he can definitely feel you spasm around him as he slides the digits inside with ease, remembering to curl the tips of them just as the countless guides and videos he had watched in preparation for such activities suggested.

“Y-Yes, ahh my God, Sho—” you gasp at the intrusion, your walls fluttering around the fingers.

His long digits slowly move in and out of you, the tips curling into your spongy walls as they sheath inside you completely. You moan at the sensation of his fingers inside of you, moving a hand to your front to rub your clit. It’s not long before you’re humping his hand, your arousal leaking onto his palm as you seat your hips back and forth on his fingers. Your mouth is hanging open, intense pleasure emanating from his fingertips rubbing that gummy spot located just deep enough for your fingers to be too short to reach. You can feel your orgasm building with each roll of the hips, a slow and steady escalation toward certain ecstasy.

Shouto moans along with you, watching the look of bliss on your face each time you sit back onto his fingers, and committing it to memory. You look absolutely captivating getting off on his hand, but the urge to feel you wrapped around his cock is too strong to ignore. He pulls his hand out of your cunt, watching as the syrupy slick trails after his fingers before severing, the warm, slimy wetness returning to your spread pussy. The sight is too enticing to just look at— he grabs his cock and jerks himself a few times, watching your slick spread across his length. It feels unlike any other lubricant he’s used— spit, lotion, shampoo all nothing in comparison to the sweet nectar your body produces just for him— simply divine.

If he thinks that’s divine, pressing his cock into you is as if the gates of heaven have been exploded open with dynamite, drowning him in a pool of ethereal ambrosia that he never wants to escape. Your walls stretch around his girth and hug him like never before; it’s wetter, tighter, and hotter than anything he’s ever imagined, and if he hadn’t already cum from your mouth just minutes before, he’s sure he would’ve cum right here and now.

You’re just about there, only a third of his cock managing to push into you before your walls start to clamp, that tension in your abdomen intensifying at an alarming rate. You throw your head back and moan unabashedly as his cock glides into you entirely in one movement, your cunt wringing snug around him as you cum. You’d be ashamed if it were with anyone else, but Shouto’s so thick and long that you just let yourself ride out your orgasm, your cunt pulsing and squeezing him tight. It feels like a religious experience cumming on his cock— he’s by far the biggest you’ve ever taken, and it’s been so long since you’ve had sex in the first place that you’re too turned on to care. A fresh wave of slick begins to leak from deep inside you, the aftermath of your abrupt orgasm coming in handy as you finally come-to enough to move your hips.

Shouto’s holding onto you for dear life at this point, knuckles white as his fingers dig bruises into your hips. He’s never been squeezed so tight before— never felt anything like your pussy, like you cumming on his cock. And even though he’s overwhelmed with the mesmerizing feeling, he still manages to keep his cool somehow, now evening his breath as he begins to thrust up into you. He decides he loves your moans— every noise you make from being impaled by his huge cock is music to his ears, a symphony he never wants to end.

“A-Ahaa ha, Shoutooo~” you cry, fireworks bursting across your nerves. “You’re so big, ah— it— it feels so gooood.”

You can’t seem to close your mouth— it’s too hard to focus on anything besides what might as well be his third leg thrusting into you over and over. His movements are relentless; never allowing you to come down from the high you’d been catapulted into with just one stroke of his cock. He’s so big inside of you, he’s probably the largest you can take while still feeling pleasure instead of pain. You feel like you’re the one losing your virginity here, not him— because, God have you never felt so filled to the brim in your life— his cock stretches and penetrates you so deliciously that you feel like any orgasm you’ve had before this doesn’t really count. It can’t count, can’t compare to this, to him.

Shouto is on the same page as you, desperately drilling into your sloppy cunt as if his life depends on it. It feels so good to be squeezed by your tight little hole, to have your fingernails dig crescent-moons into the skin on his shoulder blades, and hear your desperate cries for him. “Fuck, you— you feel so good, baby,” he pants, letting your pussy fall onto his lap and swallow his cock inside of you. “You’re so fucking sexy, y-yeah… so wet for me, so good for me.”

His praise causes a wave of goosebumps to rise across your skin, a burst of energy surging through you as you start to move your hips in sync with his thrusts. Shouto’s pace weakens as he lets you take control, sitting back and absorbing the pleasure that flows through his entire body at the quick snap of your hips. He feels like he’s in a trance as your hands move to grip the tops of his shoulders, leveraging yourself so your hips swing in a perfect arc that allows his cock to glide in and out of you completely. He watches as your hips swing back, the head of his cock slipping out of you halfway, only to be slurped back inside your tight heat all the way to the base.

Sweat is starting to accumulate and drip down your bodies, but neither of you are paying attention to that— Shouto reaches out and gropes your chest, fingers trapping your nipple and rolling it gently. You mewl at the sensation, your hips working even faster now, the dull ache of another climax forming in the pit of your stomach. You furiously hump his lap, your thrusts becoming off-beat and sloppy as your muscles scream with exertion. Frustration blooms in your heart— your stamina must have reduced in the past few months of abstinence.

“Sho, I’m… gonna cum again, fuck I’m so close,” you whine, pushing your ass onto his lap and stirring your guts with his cock as you swivel your hips.

Shouto hums at your confession, an arm winding around your hips and his hand landing on the plush underside of your thigh. His fingers dig into your flesh as he supports your body with his arm, his hips rutting up into yours with force. Each thrust has stars dancing along the borders of your vision, the power behind his hips much stronger than your desperate humping from before.

“I wanna feel you cum on my cock again, Y/N,” Shouto moans, tongue poking out to flick against your nipple, your tits in his face due to the change of position. “Want you to squeeze me and milk everything out of me, y-yeah…”

You nearly scream when his thumb finds your clit, rubbing the bundle of nerves with vigor as those two-toned eyes bore into yours. The surprise quickly morphs into bliss, your cunt wringing around his length as you feel yourself hurtle toward your orgasm for the second time. It’s not long before you’re there, ecstasy rushing through your entirety as you clutch onto him tightly, your toes curling and body shaking from the rush.

“Fuck,” he swears, both hands moving to grab your hips and pound his cock into your quivering cunt, delivering another level of pleasure to your orgasm. His bottom lip is trapped between his teeth, eyes darting between your face and your wet pussy that keeps swallowing him whole. “Ahaah— c-cumming—”

Shouto lets out a loud groan as he pulls out of you, hot, white ribbons of cum spurting across your stomach as he climaxes. Your hand reaches down to jerk him off and he continues to paint your skin with his seed, his body shaking as his orgasm ripples through him. His throbbing length is slick with your love juices, making it easy for your fingers to slide around him.

His head hits the back of the couch as he releases the last of his load, chest heaving while he tries to collect himself. The devastating pleasure of your climax leaves your body feeling weightless and your brain loopy, and all you can do is lean against his athletic physique and catch your breath.

“I love you,” Shouto whispers seriously in your ear, fingers deftly playing with the ends of your hair. He means it; he feels like his heart is so full of happiness, and he’s so comfortable basking in the afterglow of his orgasm with your naked skin on his.

You stifle the laugh that bubbles up in your throat, a small smile playing on your lips. “So sweet~” you tease, cuddling your face into his neck as his hands rub the length of your back. “I love you too, Shouto.”

Shouto hums in content, arms hugging you tight against him for a brief moment before he relaxes again. “I’m so lucky to have you,” he confesses softly, nudging the side of your face with his nose. He can feel your lips turn into a grin against his chest, and he smiles at your content.

“You’re being so sappy right now,” you point out, unable to stop smiling as you turn to look at him. “I really like this side of you, I’m happy to see you like this.”

“I’m happy, too,” he murmurs, his lips pressing against yours in a sweet and short kiss. “I kind of wish we did this sooner though…”

You laugh at that, and his soft smile turns into a grin that he doesn’t bother to conceal. “Mmm, I think it was worth the wait,” you disagree, snuggling closer to him and rubbing your skin against his affectionately.

Shouto looks down at you resting against his chest, examining your blissful smile and eyes closed in content. Yes, he thinks.

You were worth the wait.

─── ・°* ﾟ✧:* • ｡ﾟ:*･☽･*: ｡ﾟ•*:✧ ﾟ*°・ ───

wow that ended so soft pls excuse me im on my period and so emotional at the moment lmfaoooo... okokokok but post coitus snuggly sho is KILLING M E ... anywAYY lol let me know if you enjoyed!! this was kinda different from the usual smut i write so! i’d love any feedback i could get :)

as always, thanks for reading! 💗

➥ masterlist

𝐂𝐨𝐩𝐲𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭 © 𝐒𝐡𝐨𝐮𝐭𝐨𝐠𝐞𝐩𝐢 𝟐𝟎𝟐𝟎. 𝐀𝐥𝐥 𝐫𝐢𝐠𝐡𝐭𝐬 𝐫𝐞𝐬𝐞𝐫𝐯𝐞𝐝.

#todoroki shouto smut #todoroki shoto smut #todoroki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #todoroki shouto x reader #todoroki shoto x reader #todoroki x reader #bnha x reader #mha x reader #my fics

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ramp-it-up · 3 years

Text

Definitely Not

Pairing: Daveed Diggs x Reader

Warnings: MINORS DNI, 18 + Cursing, Angst, Jealousy, Smut, Graphic Depictions of Sex, Semi-public sex, oral sex (f receiving), established relationship.

Word Count: About 3K

Summary: Daveed tries to set you straight on set. Let’s see if it works.

A/N: This fic is an ask from a Nonnie who is Definitely Not Miranda in response to the pictures enclosed. So @einfachniemand, I’m not going to say: Here, my dear.

Very little editing, all errors my own. (The dress pic is not intended to convey skin tone or body type, just the dress).

It was the night of the SAG awards, which happened to fall right on the last night of your first three-week visit to set to see Daveed. You hated the distance and he knew that, so he arranged for you to see each other whenever possible.

You’d spent the first 10 days in quarantine with him, and that was fun, but these last 10 had been mostly sitting back and watching him work. Normally, you wouldn’t have minded it, but his work on this show had him in several sex scenes where he was intimate with another actress.

She was perfectly sweet, and nice, and very much in a relationship, but every time you watched a scene with them together, you got this twisting turning sensation in your belly.

Could it be jealousy, or something else?

You’d taken to avoiding set on those days, insisting you had work to do, and you stayed in the condo that production provided Daveed.

It didn’t help that you had gone from non-stop sex every day for 10 days, to long says of filming and occasional sex this last half of the trip.

But there was no need to worry. It was normal. D was exhausted and he was working. And your relationship was not just physical.

Was it?

All of this had your neurotic, anxiety riddled mind working. You began to think that maybe this was the test of your relationship. That maybe you and Daveed weren’t right for each other. That maybe this wasn’t even love.

Daveed knew you like the back of his hand. He knew what you were thinking, he could tell by your avoidance of his sex scenes and by the way you were in your head lately.

But tonight was special. When Daveed told you to bring a fancy dress, you thought it was for sexy time purposes, especially when he specified the short strapless belted Versace gold disco dress dress that you’d tried on when he was fitted for this suit, and that he’d surprised you with on Valentine’s Day.

It was almost destroyed that night, but it was flung across the room before Daveed had a chance to ruin it.

The fact that he was going to present at the SAG awards on the Night Car set not to mention that he was also nominated was a cause for celebration.

It had been a while since you two were able to go out on the town and you were a little nervous as you got ready alone in the condy while Daveed finished filming before the awards.

Your phone dinged with an instagram notification. Daveed’s co-star had posted them together, dressed for the awards. Her black dress complimented his suit nicely and they looked like a lovely couple.

Instead of throwing your phone across the room, you closed instagram and deleted it. You weren’t going to stress, and you weren’t going to let this harsh your mood.

At least that’s what you told yourself in the mirror before you left the condo.

But on the way to the set in the studio car, you were tripping.

Hard.

Were you a massive fool?

You had to pull yourself together. By the time you arrived, you looked the part of the excited and dutiful partner. Acting at it’s finest.

-------

Daveed was laughing with her when you got to set. He looked so delectable, that you just stood and stared at him from the side of the soundstage, feeling your throat gone dry and all the moisture traveling between your legs.

That beard. Damn, it had been a few days since you felt it between your legs.

The suit was even more magnificent with the fuller beard and the confidence of a man who was doing well and in his element.

The colors and patterns of the Versace jacket complimented the warm brown of his skin and the sequined effect of his balck shirt matched the mirror ball gold and silver dress you wore.

You knew that the shirt clung to every sculpted muscle under that jacket, that’s why you’d dropped to your knees so readily that night after the fitting.

Even though you knew it was just work, the fact that she had her hands on what was yours made you heated. You almost couldn’t contain yourself.

Your eyes went to his hand, where he clutched a whiskey glass with two fingers of amber liquid. You wondered if it was real, or a prop. You didn’t care, you just wished you were that glass, despite the emotions and hormones that swirled inside you.

When your eyes went back to his face, he was looking at you, jaw clenching. The one tell that you affected him. He appraised you from toe to head for a few seconds, then he went back to his conversation.

A new vexation filled you at his intentional indifference to you. Standing upright, you readied for battle.

-----

Damn, thought Daveed when he first saw you. He wanted to know who you were but then he remembered that you were his.

The thought made his cock stir and grow even more as he took in your whilte sandals and your legs that went allll the way up to the hem of your dress that was just a bit shorter than he’d like it to be in public. They continued up your gold and silver ensconced curves to the bustier of the strapless dress that you were not-quite-indecently almost falling out of.

Damn, he needed to bury his face in your tits as he fingered you into submission.

He gaze journeyed up your collarbone (he noticed that the marks he’d put there last week had faded) up your neck (those were gone too) to your adorable chin and big eyes.

The way that you looked at him, like a bunny trapped in a snare, made him want to take you down right there.

But he had to wait.

Daveed kept calm by ignoring you. He couldn’t lose his cool right here and if he went to greet you, he would drag you to the bathroom and stuff his cock in one of your holes. And he still had a job to do.

Not only was Daveed presenting, he was nominated. But already felt like a winner because the real prize was you.

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw you raise your chin in that way you had when you were angry, ready to cuss him out or fight. Or both.

He didn’t have to look to know that your eyes were flashing and that your fingers were probably trembling with emotion right now.

Daveed took a sip of his liquor as he continued his conversation and smiled. She thought he was smiling at her, but in reality, he was smiling at you. He had something for you.

He noted that you walked over and sat down on the chair with his name emblazoned upon it. As you crossed your legs to show off what you were working with, he knew exactly what you were doing.

Staking your claim.

What you didn’t realize was that he was always and forever yours.

It began with what he thought was a burning hatred for you but was really an all consuming passion.

And it started when he first laid eyes on you.

The tension was zapping across the room between you two, and the reckoning to come was inevitable the entire night.

----

“We’ll catch up with you later, we’re going to hop on a call home. Want to talk to the fam.”

Everyone bought the story and moved to the other soundstage, where a watch party was set up. Soon, you and D were alone on set.

“I hate you. Daniele.”

Daveed smiled that electric smile of his, looked down and shook his head. You used his middle name to piss him off. He wasn’t going to take the bait.

“You don’t mean that.” He moved to within one foot of you, but he didn’t touch you.

“Fuck. You.”

“Why do you hate me now?” He had a good idea, but he wanted to hear you say it.

“Because you’re fucking with her. Or making her believe it can happen. I saw how she looks at you. And you at her.” He moved even closer.

You wanted to move away from him, but you didn’t dare concede any ground to him.

He grabbed your hand and pulled it toward him.

“Do you feel this?” Your hand was now grasping his rock hard erection. “This isn’t for her, it’s all for you.”

You laughed in his face, challenging him with your eyes.

Daveed knew exactly what the real problem was.

He kissed down your neck and slid his hands down your torso to your waist, grasped it, and then hoisted you up on the bar, forcing himself between your legs.

His hands went to your knees and traveled up your moisturized thighs to the apex, finding nothing but the carefully manicured triangle there.

He looked at it for what seemed a long time and licked his lips. When he looked up, his eyes made you clench your thighs together.

“Can I?”

Fuck, you thought. You couldn’t deny it. This is what you wanted. You nodded quickly and licked your parched lips.

Daveed loved the feel, the taste, and the smell of you. He ran the pads of his thumb there, teasing the very tip of your clit, playing you almost like an instrument.

“This dress with no panties. Why did you choose violence Baby Girl?”

He twisted his wrist and was now three fingers and two knuckles deep inside you. The sloshing sound of your wetness was music to his ears.

“Damn, Daveed…” your breathless whisper and physical reaction told him everything he needed to know.

He slammed his fingers inside you and rubbed his palm against your cunt. He curled his fingers to hear you moan again, and then buried his head in between your tits to lick up your ribcage.

Your moan made him leak, and he pulled himself away from the delectable valley of your breasts to slide his hands down your body as he sank to his knees before you.

You leaned back on the bar and watched as he got down on his knees for you.

“Do you still think that there is anyone else above you?”

He grasped your foot, took off your sandal and kissed your instep, trailing his lips up your ankle to your calf.

He kept eye contact as you leaned back on your hands and watched as he licked a fat wet stripe up your thigh to the hem of your dress, and then paused to look at you.

Your anger was gone and now you were begging.

“Please…”

The reach of his long fingers nearing your pussy had you weak. He slowly rolled the hem up your dress up as he got closer and closer to the promised land. You dropped your head back and looked at the ceiling.

“Watch me, Baby Girl.”

His sweet tone made you snap your head back up, knowing that if you didn’t obey, he would make you pay. That was the only intelligent thought you had, as your mind was blank to anything else but what Daveed was doing to you.

He smiled down at your glistening pussy, and in one swift move, his mouth is on you and he lovingly licked your clit. He alternated between this and placing stripes with his tongue between your folds, causing you squirm in his clutches on the bartop.

“Hmmmmm. So delicious.” He looked up at you and grins mischievously.

You shuddered, biting your lip to keep from screaming. He held you fast in his grip as you started convulsing and almost hyperventilating at the pleasure he gave you as his rough tongue swiped over your clit again and again.

“Da-Da-Daveed.”

Daveed looked up, wiped his mouth on his sleeve and smiled that gorgeous smile at you.

“What did you call me?” His eye contact was unwavering, not allowing you to escape.

Your eyes got wide and you shut your mouth fast. Daveed just chuckled, in the mood to be soft.

“Nevermind. We’ll save that for another day.”

He kissed you, allowing you to sample yourself on his tongue. You incoherently grabbed for his belt, unbuckling the impediment to what was so important to you at this moment.

Daveed pulled away and undid his belt, unbuttons his pants and they drop to the floor.

You reached for and only got to hold and squeeze the large, heavy cock in your hand briefly before he pulled away again, lifting you off the bar and turning you around to lean against it.

He answered your whine with a shushing sound.

“Shhhh. As much as I love to see you wrap that mouth around my dick. I need inside you. Now.”

Daveed could hardly stand it. He’d wanted you for hours, since you walked into the room, days, since he last had energy to have you. He was finally going to have his heart’s desire.

He lifted your ass cheek and lined up at your dripping lips. He couldn’t look away as he watched you take all of him, the hiss that escapes his lips causing you to clench around him.

“Fuck. Such a good girl, taking me like this.”

Your mind was like a whirlwind as he thrusted inside you slowly, building up to a constant, merciless rhythm. His pelvis crashed into yours over and over, hands on your hips, surely leaving bruises at his ruthless grip.

“Gotdamn Daveed, no one else has ever made me feel this way,” you whispered, your voice not much more than the breaths you were trying to catch.

This information made Daveed pause and fall out of rhythm, and you heard his breath catch in his throat. His hips faltered after he heard what you had to say.

“Shit!”

The exclamation betrayed his emotion and you remembered how much he loved your words of praise.

The fact that he’d wanted you for so long and couldn’t have you and now you are really his blew his mind. Hearing that he could make you feel like none other made him weak.

“Tell me more.”

He sped up again, growing hot at the image of himself sinking deep inside you.

“No one else can make me feel as good as you do.”

“Fuck!” He moved feverishly, his release imminent.

“It’s not just that your dick is big and hits that spot that no one else has ever found...”

“Shit!”

Daveed reached around to your clit and worked it furiously with his fingers again, because he was going to come any second and he needed you to meet him there.

“It’s that you know m-m-mmmmmm.” You could hardly speak it’s so good.

“You know my bodyyyy… my body so fucking well Daveed.”

He grabbed your hand with his right one and brought it behind your back as his left worked, pinning your torso to the bar. You went up on your toes in your heels, calves tightening along with the rest of your body.

You arched your spine as your explosion started to arrive. Daveed thrust once more, deep inside you, making contact with that special spot and it was game over for both of you.

You cum, hard, and prayed that you don’t mess up his suit. Or your dress.

Daveed leaned on your back, panting, and you released your hand from between you and grabbed his curls, bending back to kiss him, as he softened inside you. He moaned in his throat, a sign that he was still sensitive.

He looked you in your eyes.

“I love you.”

You smile at him. “I love you too.”

He pecked your lips again and groaned as he slipped out of you, and moved to pull up his pants as you straightened your dress.

He went to the bathroom at stage right and is back out within five minutes, having washed his hands and fixed his hair.

He took you in his arms and gave you his serious look. Your stomach turned flips, as if you were in trouble. The thing is, you knew you weren’t. It was just the opposite.

“Let me go over this one more time…” you moved to speak and his look darkened. You shut your mouth quickly.

“Work. Is work. That’s all. I’m a professional. Just like you.”

He stared you down.

“You know a sex scene ain’t sexy. Plus I have that wig and make up on, there are hot lights, makeup. The closest thing to a turn off there is.”

“Stop being jealous just because I like my co-workers. You should be glad I like her, because remember the last co-star that I couldn’t stand?”

He looked at you with a glint in his eye.

You were mad.

“Yeah, you ended up boning her brains out because of the sexual tension.”

“Exactly. And I turned her out. She stalked me all the way up here to Vancouver.”

You were heated.

“Fuck you, Daveed! You sent me a ticket and ordered me to come, don’t try…”

Daveed silenced you with a kiss.

“Can you not be crazy for 10 minutes?”

You caught your breath as you glared at him. You stared each other down, the tension building again.

You pulled away from him.

“10 minutes is all you get. Because that was DEFINITELY NOT the right thing to say to me!!”

You turned on your heel and walked out of the soundstage ahead of him.

Daveed straightened his suit and smiled as he followed you out.

It was going to be a long night.

And he was looking forward to it.

--------

Let me know if you like it by liking, commenting, and reblogging!

Tags: @braidedchallah @einfachniemand @sillyteecup @ohsoverykeri @theselilwonders @theatrenerd86 @sebastianabucknettastan @imatyoursurrvicesurr @riiyy @lonelydance @biafbunny @summerofsnowflakes @honeysucklechocolatedrippin @wreakhavoconmacroissantdiggs @janthonystan @elocinnicole @anh1020

#Daveed Diggs #daveed diggs fanfiction #daveed diggs x reader #daveed diggs smut #daveed diggs imagine #daveed diggs angst #definitely not Miranda #daveed diggs x you

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softcallofdutyimagines · 3 years

Text

Where the squad likes to be touched

Adler

This may come as a surprise...

But it's definitely his jaw

He's undeniably a handsome man, but sometimes, in rare moments of vanity, he worries his scar detracts from it all

And although he's never admitted this to you (yet), or anyone for that matter...

It's quite nice to have someone give that area some affection, as though the scar tissue isn't even there

There's a certain way to how you hold the bone structure between your fingers and stroke along it that feels so...

Good

Especially if he has a little stubble growing out

If that's the case, reversing the motion and going against the hair grain works wonders

Suffice to say, it turns him to puddy in your hand

Hudson

The top of his head

Only you are allowed to touch this area

And even then, only in private

It's actually quite the honor, considering he'd probably break the arm of anyone else who tried it

Anyway, you know how he always keeps it shaved?

Well it's not just good for checking your reflection

The skin is surprisingly soft with a touch of peach fuzz

Thus, perfect for a scalp massage

Or, if the stubble grows out a little, it can be just as nice I'm other ways

All the little prickly hairs make for an absolute circuit board of good feels, both for you and him

Besides, have you met the people he works with?

If anyone needs a nice head rub now and then, it's Hudson

Mason

Definitely his hands

He's been through a lot, and his career isn't even over yet

So while it may not seem like much to you, something as simple as holding his hand is extremely special to him

He hopes you don't mind if he squeezes a bit from time to time

Mostly because he tends to grip a bit too hard, which of course he follows up with profuse apologies

However, it’s not much of a big deal to you, you tell him

You’re glad it’s grounding for him, especially after his nightmares or during other triggers

However, there is an enjoyability to it as well

His hands are very callused from working, a far cry from how wonderfully soft yours are

He also likes how your hands fit perfectly inside his big, broad palms

Feeling you trace his knuckles and tendons drives him crazy

And you know what?

Sometimes it really is the little things in life that matter most

Park

Her hips, 100%

In a work field almost entirely over run with men, it's nice to feel like a woman now and then

Besides, have you ever had a good hip massage?

They are revolutionary

Especially if you do a lot of leg work, like Park and the gang

So if you have some magic fingers, she'd be extremely grateful

And if not, even just a gentle caress is nice!

It makes her feel like she's yours, like she can trust you

Plus, it's a great, subtle move if you ever needed to pull off a couples disguise

She's not adverse to some fake dating should the need arise after all

But if she lets you pull this off outside of the field...

Well needless to say, you can definitely consider yourself lucky if you've reached this level of intimacy with her

Weaver

His chest

Whether it's shirt on or off, it's all good to him

As a man with quite a blocky body type, he's broad and naturally muscular, but not quite as toned as most of the others

Of course, getting older and working a desk job have not helped the latter factor

This results in him feeling a bit like he doesn't have a body to be proud of in the first place

And while he doesn't particularly mind, he's not to keen on having his face touched either, for obvious reasons

But before you threw in the towel on finding his soft spot, it came to you by accident

Each morning before he goes to work you fix his tie for him and straighten out any wrinkles in his shirt, making sure to put in a little thumb work across his broad pects

It's subtle, almost as though he doesn't want to enjoy it, but you found pretty quickly that he was leaning into your touch at that

Thankfully, in good, steady Weaver fashion he gets comfortable with you and himself soon enough

From there, it isn't long until it becomes a favorite absent minded rubbing spot for you two

Woods

His abs

Even if you just look at them, he's down for it

But he does enjoy feeling your fingers go over the little bumps

As a true macho type, he likes when you admire his "manly" qualities

Especially as he gets older

He's very much a "See? I've still got it!" type of guy

Which is why I specify his abs and not like his stomach ect. in general

If he ever got to an age where he lost sight of them, he'd be extremely self conscious and wouldn't want you touching around there at all

Or at least, it would take a good bit of reassurance from you to bring him back around

But for now, you can't help but give into his little vanity show, if for no other reason to make him happy

Not to mention a properly done stomach rub feels amazing

And although he'd die before admitting he lets you do that type of stuff...

Really, it's the bonding time with you that he loves

#call of duty #black ops cold war #russell adler #alex mason #helen park #frank woods #jason hudson #grigori weaver #russel adler x reader #helen park x reader #frank woods x reader #jason hudson x reader #grigori weaver x reader #alex mason x reader

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shadyteacup · 3 years

Text

Noise Canceling Headphones

A dazai x gn! Reader oneshot

It's more of a comfort fic, as I have described a bit of myself in here, but its gender neutral so everyone can enjoy!

Only the eye color, and a beauty mark has been specified in this fic.. I wanted to feel loved by dazai n so made the reader a tad bit like me.. I hope u enjoy!

He laid his head on her lap after a long day of work. Kunikida had managed to squeeze loads of work out of him, and had had him constantly at it for the entire day. Dazai sighed at the feeling of your long, slender fingers combing through his messy locks. He had missed your warmth so much.

He lived for such tender moments. His head on your lap, your fingers in his hair, dim lighting, comfortably chilly air breezing in through the window, and your soft humming of a song about summer and tranquility, is more than anything he ever needs, to be at peace.

His mind was finally silent, filled with nothing. It felt good to have nothing on his mind, for a change.

You were like noise canceling headphones for him. Always blocking out his own violent thoughts, but at the same time, keeping him entertained and happy with your tunes.

He hugged your waist like a little lost child, holding on for his life, almost as if he let go, he would loose himself. Maybe he actually would.

You were confident and strong, he knew that you could handle yourself very well on the battle field. This is why he wasn't afraid of being with you. He knows that you can handle all the obstacles thrown your way, a side effect of his criminal past. But when it comes to emotional stability, you were partly broken, just like him. Although, where your mind was shattered, his was unscathed, and where he was broken, you were strong as a pillar.

You two were perfect for each other, as you both knew the feelings of being broken inside, but were capable of pulling the other back to the surface whenever they fell off the edge.

He subconsciously smiled as he heard your humming slow down as the seconds passed by. You were, no doubt, very tired too. But you stayed upright just to keep him comfortable. You often did this, he realized. No matter how hard or uncomfortable something might be, if it helps soothe him, you would put your discomfort aside for him. You would cook his favourite food, even after a tiring day at work, and even though he is on cooking duty. You would cover him with your blanket during the cold nights, and would get up, half asleep, to find a spare one for yourself. You would always wait for him, whether it be physically or emotionally, to open up to you. You never forced him to do anything. You always went with the flow, even if it meant slowing down for him. You curbed your own desires for his happiness.

He took notice of these small yet enormously touching gestures, and tried his best to reciprocate them. But he couldn't compare his actions to your compassion. And it hurt him to accept that. It hurt him to know that you deserve so much more. But he knows you like the back of his palm. He knows that if he were to leave you, you would lose hope in love. You would feel hurt, lost and angry. He isn't saying this because he feels that you can't find someone like him, no, not at all. He's saying this because he knows how much love means to you, and how much of yourself you pour into a relationship. Because it a means so much to you. Leaving you would be stupid, as it would wound not only him, but also you. He wouldn't be able to handle you not being there for him. And you, would feel that nothing you do is enough. Which is so not true. Even your smile is enough to make his day. The way you tilt your head when you grin at him, the way your eyes shine with happiness, the way the mole at the corner of your mouth accentuates your dazzling smile, it all makes him feel warm and fuzzy inside. He can't live without you. He can't imagine a world where you were not by his side.

It then dawned on him. Almost like the feeling of attaining nirvana, it suddenly hit him. Like a fresh wave of the bright blue ocean had slapped him across the face. Like the moment when you realize that you're dreaming, and it all becomes clear. All the pieces suddenly fit together.

He chuckled. Ofcourse. He was in love with you. How could he have not known? How could he have been so blind? He loved you so much. But he was afraid of losing you. Even though you both practically lived together, you hadn't said the three words to each other. He knew that you loved him too, all your actions scream the fact. But what if he was wrong? What if you were this kind to every guy you have been with? What if he was no one special, but just another one of your flings? What if you say that you can't do this anymore? What if he confesses and scares you away? What if-

"Hey, what's wrong?"

Your soft voice snaps him out of his thoughts.

"You are breathing heavily, dear."

You cup his cheek.

"Is something the matter?"

Looking into your warm brown eyes, he realizes the genuine concern they hold. He was falling for you, over and over again.

"You know you can tell me anything, right?"

You smile warmly.

"Only if you want to, ofcourse."

He sits up and holds your hands in his larger ones.

You have been so patient, considerate and kind to him.

You deserve to know. You deserve to have an answer. You don't deserve to live in an unspoken, wavering and doubtful relationship. No. You deserve closure, and surety. He must confess. And now is the time. So he takes in a deep breath, and prepares himself to take the biggest step of his life.

He gently rubs his thumbs on your palm, the action helping him to remain composed.

Looking into your tired, curious, honey brown eyes he musters up the courage to finally say,

"Y/N, I love you.."

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mochiable · 3 years

Text

— cherries & foam. (f)

↣ summary: you've had a stressful day at work and Lucas is there to make your evening more enjoyable.

↣ pairing: boyfriend!lucas x fem!reader

↣ genre: fluff

↣ word count: +3k

↣ warnings: a bit suggestive

a/n: english is not my first language, so if you see any grammatical or spelling mistakes don't hesitate to tell me. any constructive criticism will be always welcome.

“Hello, love," you greeted your boyfriend as you walked through the door.

Lucas was lying on the couch watching the series you had sworn to watch together. You pouted unconsciously. Letting out a sigh, you took off your shoes and left your coat on the rack at the entrance.

“Are you watching the eleventh season of Modern Family without me?,” a new pout reappeared on your lips when you turned around and faced him.

Lucas turned his head in the direction of the tv and let out a nervous laugh, "Sorry, we can always resume to the last episode we watched together."

You couldn’t help the smile that formed on your lips as you heard him talk, "Don't worry, right now all I want to do is sleep until next year."

“Mhm, bad day?,” he questioned approaching you and bringing his face close to yours. You nodded softly as you grabbed his wrists and directed his arms around your waist.

“It was the most stressful day of my life, I swear I'm not exaggerating," you whispered, draping your arms around his shoulders and around his neck.

“You've been working so hard lately," he murmured, caressing your hip with his thumb. You nodded again with your eyes closed as you rested your forehead on his chest. You noticed how one of his hands went up to your head and started stroking your hair, "Do you want me to give you a massage?"

You groaned helplessly at the relaxation you got from the thought of it, eliciting a giggle from your boyfriend, "I'll take that as a yes."

You smiled again as you rose your head and looked into his eyes. He smiled back at you and moved in to kiss you. A lingering kiss, but not erotic at all. When you pulled apart you stood with your faces so close that your noses were touching, both of you with your eyes closed.

"You'll have to wash up first though, you smell a little," he teased just inches from your mouth, gaining a scoff and a punch on the arm from you, which made him laugh more, "how about you lie down on the bed while I run you a bath? Or do you want something to eat first?"

“I prefer the bath," you answered, but your look changed from a sweet one to one full of illusion, “wait, would you really run me a bath?”

“Ouch, are you that surprised?”, he answered with mock offense, bringing one of his hands to where his heart would be, making you laugh, “I'd make you as many as you want. Aigoo, my baby works very hard”.

You chuckled again, this time hitting him in the chest, “stop fooling around and go run me that bath, ‘cmon”.

“As you wish, Captain," he replied mockingly, putting a hand to his forehead as if he were a soldier.

Once Lucas left the dining room to go to prepare your bath, you headed to the kitchen with difficulty and opened the fridge looking for some snacks. You decided on the cherries in a small bowl, assuming Lucas had gone to buy them earlier this morning. You smiled sideways and took out the bowl, sat down on the counter and started eating.

“Babe, come on, it's ready!,” you heard him call you from the bathroom. You let out a sigh, shifting your gaze between your feet and the floor, “Y/N?”

“I can't!,” you answered, putting three cherries in your mouth, chewing slowly.

“Why not? What's the matter?,” his voice got closer and closer until your boyfriend's pretty face came through the kitchen door, “what's wrong?,” he asked in a soft voice as he walked over to you and looked with amusement at the bowl of cherries, “hey, that was meant for me!”, he whined, pouting cutely. You rolled your eyes and, without saying anything, stretched your arms in his direction. He looked at you with a raised eyebrow before crossing his arms, “you don't expect me to carry you, do you?”

You smiled excited as you waved your still raised arms at him, “please~”

Lucas sighed before he let out a laugh and ruffles your hair, making you squeal, “just because I love you”.

In less than two seconds you were in his arms, bridal style. You noticed how he held you with one arm, which made you frown, and turn your head, watching him grab the bowl of cherries with one of his hands. You looked at him with both eyebrows raised, waiting for an explanation, "what? I'm hungry”.

The moment Lucas opened the bathroom door, you tried not to let your mouth brush the floor. He had decorated the bathroom with red scented candles and dipped a bath bomb in the tub, giving the water a golden color.

You stared in awe at your boyfriend as he set you down and looked up at you with a proud smile.

"Baby, you didn't have to," you said stroking his cheek with your thumb.

He directed his hand and placed it on your wrist to pull it away from his face and give it a gentle squeeze, "come here," he replied leading you to the tub. He began to remove your thin jacket, then your shirt and undershirt.

You looked at him intrigued, "Xuxi, I understand you feel like doing things, but I'm too tired".

He looked at you in confusion and, after looking at the clothes now lying on the floor, opened his mouth and then quickly closed it. He brought his gaze back up to your face and gave you a gentle smack on the forehead, “No, pabo, I don't want to do anything”.

Without waiting a second longer, he bent down and unbuttoned your pants and then started to pull them down your long legs. You couldn’t help but bristle as he left a chaste kiss on your inner thigh. You've always felt self-conscious about your legs. You weren't what was considered the perfect ideal in Korea and, although you didn't like to admit it, the looks and comments people made about you had made you insecure about that part of their body.

Lucas knew that, in fact, you didn't need to tell him. When he saw that you stopped wearing skirts or shorts he knew something was wrong, and he didn't hesitate to show you how perfect you were for him and that the only important thing was that you felt comfortable in your own body. And he had not stopped proving it to you to this day.

“Do you want me to take off your underwear?,” he asked, looking down gently at you.

You ducked your head, embarrassed and slightly blushing, but it didn’t take you long to nod. Lucas smiled in response and, as gently as he could, placed his long fingers on your hips making your skin crawl. That was adorable to him, so he deposited a small kiss this time very close to your groin. Slowly, he began to pull down the small piece of cloth still covering you and threw it on the floor along with the rest of your clothes.

He immediately stood up, placing his hands on your shoulders and turning you around, making your back face him. Delicately running his hands up your arms, he reached the clasp of your bra and nimbly unfastened it. Then he turned you again and tucked a lock of your hair behind your ear and smiled sweetly at you.

He hadn't looked down once. He kept looking into your eyes the whole time and thinking how he was so lucky to meet you and delight in sharing moments like this with you. Despite the years you've been together and the fact that this isn't the first time he's seen you without any clothes on, this moment felt, without a doubt, absolutely special.

“You are beautiful," he whispered, causing your cheeks to turn crimson red. Since the first date he hadn't stopped complimenting you and making you feel like the most special person on the planet, but you couldn’t help but feel self-conscious every time he emphasized how important you were to him.

And there he had you, completely at his mercy. You felt so small under his gaze yet so powerful. You knew it was at times like these that he would do whatever you asked, just as he knew you would do the same for him. But Lucas treated you with such affection that, even in this situation, he would never hurt you, in any way, shape or form.

“I heated the water just the way you like it, even though it's probably not as hot now as you'd prefer. Sorry about that," he smiled apologetically at you, making it inevitable that a smile took the shape of your lips, "oh, I also poured the bubble soap”.

“How could I have been so lucky?,” you asked rhetorically, hugging him by the waist but keeping your head up to see his face.

“You'll have to specify a little more, I don't know if you're referring to me or that I had to fight with an old lady for the last bottle of soap," he joked, provoking laughter from both of you.

“Thank you," you said sincerely, looking him straight in the eye.

“Don't thank me, sweetie,” he winked at you as he took you by the hand and helped you up the small step that was blocking your easy way into the bathtub. Once inside, you laid your head on the curve, where there was a towel to avoid further pain.

Lucas knelt down and began to wet your hair while you closed your eyes at the soothing sensation. Minutes passed and you had already gotten used to the temperature and pampering of your boyfriend. Lucas took the shampoo and made you sit up so he could apply the soap more easily on you.

You were hugging your knees, which were pressed to your chest. You didn't know how but, somehow or other, you still felt weak in front of him. You were so in love with him that if moments like these were to end someday you wouldn't know how to go on with your life.

After a few minutes, Lucas' soft fingers were tangled in your hair, gently massaging your skin in an attempt to clear your mind. Later, he rinsed your hair and applied vanilla soap (your favorite) on a sponge. Then he started to rub it on your back and then on your arms, chest and legs.

Some of you will say, couldn't she do this on her own? But you only say that because you don't know how romantic and tender it is to have your favorite person take such good care of you.

A splash aimed at your face snapped you out of your thoughts. You quickly brought the palms of your hands to your eyes and wiped away the traces of water that had lingered in the area. When you finally opened them you found your boyfriend holding back laughter. You raised an eyebrow and didn't hesitate to return the splash. That quickly turned into a water... and soap war.

“Ouch!," you squealed as a bit of suds got in your right eye. You immediately felt Lucas lean over the tub and pull your hands away from your face. He held your chin with his middle finger and thumb and turned your face in his direction.

He grimaced at the sight of your eye and stroked the bottom of it with the thumb of his other hand, trying to dry the area a bit, “It's a little sore, does it sting?”

You shook your head, "No, but you're going to pay for it," at the look of confusion on your boyfriend's face, you splashed him again, making him scream and provoking laughter from both of you.

After a few minutes of trying to regulate your breathing, Lucas turned around and grabbed the bowl of cherries he had brought with him. He carefully set it down on the step of the tub and directed a cherry to your mouth. You gladly took it and playfully bit his finger afterwards, to which he raised his eyebrows.

“Don't heat up what you don't want to eat," he warned, popping two cherries into his mouth. You laughed and moved a little closer to him. Luke picked up a cherry again and directed it at you, but you frowned and took it from him, leaving him confused. You made the gesture of handing it to him, bringing it closer to his mouth, but when it was already brushing his lips you quickly pushed it away and popped it in your mouth. You let out another laugh when you saw his annoyed face, "don't tempt me, y/n," he scolded you with fake annoyance, to which you stuck your tongue out at him.

Once Lucas finished bathing you he sat on the floor, resting his elbow on the step and holding your head with the palm of his hand. He smiled internally when he saw you playing with the little foam that was still left, passing it from one hand to the other and putting it back in the water. You were silent for a few seconds, feeling how his gaze never left you for a moment. You decided to raise your head, meeting the loving eyes of your boyfriend, who looked at you as if you were the most beautiful and expensive work of art in any museum.

“Why are you looking at me, Xuxi?,” you asked in a low tone of voice, closing your eyes and resting your face on your knee, which was sticking out of the water.

“How beautiful you look," he answered, holding back the urge to pull you out of the bathtub and hug you for the rest of the night. You opened your eyes and smiled broadly, making Lucas' heart pound, so much that he felt like it was going to burst out of his mouth. “Do you want me to leave so you can enjoy the bath by yourself?,” he asked with the intention of getting up and leaving the bathroom.

You quickly shook your head and pulled your arm out of the water to grab one of her hands and entwine it with yours, “stay with me, I always enjoy being with you”.

“I know, you tell me that every night," he joked, causing you to splash him again with the now cold water in the bathtub, eliciting a laugh from him.

Lucas moved his free hand to your knee that was closest to him and began to caress it, slowly lowering it until his hand was submerged in the water, continuing his caresses on the top of your thigh, very close to your hip.

You couldn't stop your skin from prickling again at such a sensation. It seemed that Lucas had some power over you, that he had somehow bewitched you so that, every time he touched you, wherever it was, you felt your legs tremble. Every time his fingers came into contact with your skin you felt soft electric shocks, which not only passed through your sensory nerves, but reached deep into your heart. You had often wondered if this was what people called "being in love", because if this sensation was the definition of being in love, then you had achieved the highest position.

“It's so cute how your skin prickles every time I touch you," he whispered, bringing his face close to yours, allowing you to smell his minty breath.

“That's the effect you have on me," you murmured back, directing your gaze to his pink lips.

“Mhm, that sounded sexy," he teased, giving you a gentle pinch on your thigh, causing an intense blush to take over your cheeks.

“You're weird," you laughed, bringing your hand in the direction of his, which was still underwater. You brought it to your mouth and placed a short but gentle kiss on his knuckles, then rested your cheek on the top of his hand. “Don't you want to get in here with me? The water is just the way you like it”.

He shook his head, "I'm fine here, I like looking at you”.

You were silent for a few minutes, looking at each other and thinking about how much you had missed each other.

“You're shaking, do you want to go out?,” Lucas asked, stroking the back of your hand.

When you nodded like a little girl, Lucas got up from the floor and walked over to the corner where your towels were on the electric towel rack. He grabbed the softest one and spread it out, shaking it gently to finish unfolding it. Then he picked up a smaller one for your feet and walked over to you, holding the one for your body with one hand and stretching the one for your feet on the edge of the tub. With his free hand he grabbed your hand and pulled you towards him to lift you up, helping you cautiously out of the tub, getting your feet onto the towel that was laying on the floor. He made a gesture with his head for you to move your arms away from your sides, which you did, and, with a smile, he wrapped your body in the soft towel.

With one hand you held the towel so as not to drop it and pulled it even tighter to your body. He then bent down to open one of the drawers on the shelf and from there he pulled out another towel. He walked back over to you and turned you around, with you facing the mirror and your back to Lucas. He lifted the towel and dropped it over your head, then began to move it in gentle circles, massaging your scalp. You closed your eyes, forcing yourself to relax.

“You're the best boyfriend I've ever had," you opened your eyes wide when you heard him laugh. Had you said that out loud?

“I don't really know whether to be flattered or offended," he joked, finally dropping the towel from your head, meeting your boyfriend's amused face through the mirror.

You felt your cheeks heat up from one moment to the next and smiled apologetically at him. It was true, you had never had a boyfriend before, and it wasn't something you used to be ashamed of, not until now.

“Well, I think you should be flattered," you said, putting a clip on your towel so it wouldn't fall and turning around. You moved as close to him as possible and raised your hands to place them on his shoulders. You stood on tiptoe so you could reach his face, “even if I had a thousand boyfriends, you'd still be the best," you smiled as you watched Lucas bite his lower lip trying to hold back the huge smile that was about to escape him. Without waiting another second you pressed your lips to his, in a short and soft kiss.

“Tell me something I don't know," he teased making you both laugh before melting into another kiss, this one much longer and more passionate than the other, in which you showed each other how much you loved each other and how much you needed each other.

It was at that moment that you realized how lucky you were to be with a man like Lucas. Because he wasn't a boy, he was truly a man. And best of all, he wasn't just any man, he was your man.

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tigerseye46 · 3 years

Note

For the headcanon thing. Once it’s revealed that Tang is Tripitaka, he uses that to get Wujing to reconcile with Pigsy and Wukong. Kinda like how Wujing used Tang’s celebrity crush. - Pixel Anon

Yesss, Tang gets revenge. This takes during S3 of the au.

Send me a head canon for the Red Shark/sand au and I'll make a fic out of it ^^! Send as many as you want

-----------

Tang stomped away from Sha Wujing as the other tried to wave at him from the kitchen. He was still mad at the others for not divulging he was Tripitaka’s reincarnation especially Wujing who he thought was interested in him after they had gotten closer. But nope, he only liked him because he was Tripitaka.

He told the demon to figure out if he actually liked him for him and wasn’t using him as an outlet for his feelings. He wasn’t going to be friendly toward the other until then.

“Hey, Wujing,” Sun Wukong greeted. Tang turned around to see the former pilgrims all in the kitchen.

Sha Wujing hissed at the two. “What do you want?”

“Just to talk,” Zhu Bajie replied.

“There’s nothing to talk about.” “Well how are you faring since-?”

“Oh, I’m faring just wonderfully,” he snarked. “Nothing like the person I love the most ignoring me. Exactly like back then.” Tang sighed at the demon’s words. Wujing didn’t love him, he loved Tripitaka, that was it. The other thing the demon said struck him, from what he recalled, Tripitaka never ignored him and cared about him very much, he doesn’t know how the monk gave him that impression.

“Give him time,” Wukong said. “He’ll come around.”

“Yea, no thanks to you. Maybe if you told him in the beginning we would be happy with each other. But no, you had to keep your mouth shut for once.”

Bajie held up an arm to halt him. “It’s not his fault, Wujing.”

“Yes, it is! He hung out with Tang the longest! He should have told him.”

“I didn’t know, Wujing.”

“But you suspected,” he pointed out. “Also you could have used your special eyes and told him but you’re too much of a coward to do so.” “Coward?” He exclaimed. “What about you? You figured out and could have told him yourself. Don’t blame me for your faults.” “Whatever,” he replied and pushed passed them, heading towards the opposite direction of where Tang was. Jeez just when they were finally starting to at least talk without screaming.

The king ran a hand through his fur. “He’s right. I should have said something.”

The pig patted him on the back. “It’s not your fault. It’s not like it was an easy thing to bring up.”

“I know but-”

And at that point, Tang stopped listening. He went back to his room and laid on his bed. He was angry at Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie too but that argument left a bad feeling. Heck, all their arguments left a bad feeling.

He knew Wujing loved to pick fights with those two because of Tripitaka’s- because of his death. While Wujing was right that his best friend should have told him, the demon should have also told him.

They had really split apart after his passing which was not something he wanted at all. He didn’t like to see his disciples friends fight and while he could leave them be, it wasn’t right to do so. He knew their relationship wouldn’t be repaired unless he intervened since Sha Wujing was so stubborn.

He threaded his fingers through his dark locks and decided to use his position as their master’s reincarnation to get them to reconcile. They were going to be stuck on this flying ship for who knows how long so they had to get along or the journey would be more difficult than it needed to be.

He would go up to Wujing first to convince him they needed to talk and while he hated being used as an outlet, he didn’t have a choice otherwise. Well other than locking them in a closet but he’s sure they would break the door.

Tang got up once again and went to find Sha Wujing who was on the balcony of the shop. He was leaning against the railing with a contemplative look on his face. His red-orange hair shined in the sunlight.

Tang took a couple of breaths and walked up to him. Hearing the noise, the demon gazed at him, his eyes blown wide at the other approaching him.

“Tang,” he said.

“Hey,” the human responded and leaned against the railing just like the demon did.

“Why are you here?”

“Fresh air. Hope you don’t mind.”

“Of course not.” Wujing opened his mouth to speak before closing it then repeating the process. “Tang.”

Tang placed a hand up. “I know what you’re going to say and you don’t have to lie to me.”

“I’m not lying when I say I really do love you.”

“Uh huh. You only love Tripitaka, not me.”

“That’s not true.”

“It is true. We’ve been over this. I’m not looking to get into it right now. It’s not what I came here to discuss.”

“I thought you said you came here for fresh air.”

He pursed his lips and nodded. “That too but there is something we need to discuss. You need to talk to Wukong and Bajie.” The other lifted a brow. “And when I mean talk, I mean something that is not an argument, a fight or anything along those lines. Civilized conversation. You three need to make up.”

Wujing scoffed and crossed his arms. “Make up with those two? No thank you. They’re terrible.”

“And why are they so terrible?” He asked.

“Because they wanted you dead.”

“And how do you know that?”

“Think about it, Tang. They never wanted to listen to you. They always thought it was best to disobey you or get you captured. They never cared about you like I did yet they were your favorites.”

“Wujing, they cared about me like I did them and you.”

“They didn’t. They let you die after they finally managed to get away from you.” He muttered, “And you didn’t care about me.”

Tang rubbed his temples in annoyance, ignoring the last comment. “They got there too late.”

“How do you know? You died.”

“I know them. They got there late and there was nothing they could do either way.”

“Whatever. I’m not making up with them.” He began to step away.

“Sha Wujing, come back! You are making up with your brothers!”

“They’re not my brothers,” he called back.

Tang removed the glasses from his face and said in a soft tone, “Wujing, please come back.”

The other stopped to stare, the human’s face was marked by a frown and without the glasses, he looked even more like his incarnation. He blushed at the human’s appearance. The human getting closer and closer with folded glasses in hand.

He held his face and tilted the demon’s chin slightly upwards. “A little close there.”

“What? I can’t get close to my disciple?”

“Wh-what?”

“You heard me.” He traced a hand along the demon’s biceps. “Wow. Your strength really hasn’t waned since I last saw you centuries ago.”

He blinked. “Th-thanks?”

“Still so impressive after all these years. This is rather forward but I find it hot,” he said it just as Tripitaka would say it.

“Thanks…”

“It’s probably why you’re the best one out there.”

“Well that’s no secret,” he bragged and tried to act as if this didn’t affect him.

“You are.” He rubbed his cheek with his thumb and Wujing placed a hand over his. Tang ignored the flutter and enjoyed the fact that he could get revenge on the demon for using his crush against him. “You know what would make you better than them?”

“What would that be, Tang?” He questioned and pressed a kiss against his palm.

He leaned in and whisper, “If you showed the other two how great you are by patching things up to them first. Be the bigger man like I know you are.”

“And what do I get if I make up with them?”

“A kiss,” he replied, “but only if you promise.”

He grinned. “I promise.” Tang smooched his cheek and walked off, putting his glasses back on. “Wait! You said a kiss!”

“I did give you a kiss!”

“A kiss on the cheek doesn’t count!”

“Yes, it does! I didn’t specify! And I’m still mad at you! Remember your promise and I might give you another one,” he exclaimed before going back inside.

He touched his cheek, the warmth lingering. He grumbled at getting tricked before going with the human.

It wasn’t until hours passed that Sha Wujing saw Sun Wukong and Zhu Bajie. “Hey. We need to talk.”

“About?” Bajie pondered.

“Sit down.” He gestured to the couch in the living room.

The two gave him a questioning glance but complied. “Okay. What is it, Wujing?” The king held Bajie close to him.

“Tang is forcing me to do this.”

“Tang talked to ya?”

“Yea. He hasn’t forgiven me just yet but he wanted me to talk to you.”

“And ya listened?”

“He is still our master…”

Wukong smirked. “Let me guess. He managed to seduce you into talking to us.”

His face shifted beet red. “No! Shut up!”

“Let’s listen to him, Wukong.”

“Fine. What is it?”

“Look I don’t care about you two.”

“Wow a great way to start,” Sun Wukong joked.

“Shut up. Look I don’t care about you two but I should at least try to get along with you. Heavens, this is difficult.”

Tang interrupted with, “You better go through with it.”

“Tang! I will. I promised I would.”

“Good. Even though I’m still mad at you, all of you. Make this easy on me and the kids by at least being civilized. Before I leave you to your own devices. My previous death,” he winced, “wasn’t any of your faults and I don’t want you to blame each other or yourselves for what happened. It’s all in the past and I’m here now. Got it?”

They bobbed their heads. “Good. Now I’m going to eat something. Have fun.” He left to the kitchen.

The youngest demon clasped in hands together. Wukong apologized with “I’m sorry.”

“Sorry?”

“Sorry for not being there when you and master needed us. Everyday I think about how we should have gotten there faster. Maybe things would be different. We shouldn’t have given up on you so easily.”

“You didn’t. I was the one who made it difficult on you.”

“Still. We should have stayed with you,” Bajie said.

“I would have gotten even more pissed.”

“Even still. We should have done somethin’.”

“There was nothing you could have done. Just like… just like with master’s death,” he admitted. “After all this time, I didn’t want to admit how I acted was horrible to you two. I always thought… thought that Tripitaka loved you more than he loved me and that broke me inside. I still think that way. It’s not something that’s easy to get over.”

“We know.”

“And I don’t exactly forgive you either because a part of me still thinks you wanted him gone but I know I have to deal with you around and if I never say this, I’ll make it difficult for all of us. I have to protect that kid even if it means opening up to all of this. So that’s it. I don’t exactly forgive you but I’m not going to remain that pissed either. At least try to.”

“We appreciate that,” Wukong responded with a smile. “We’ll try our best to make it up to you again. And we’re really sorry we couldn’t help save master. That decision still haunts us.”

“I know.”

“But it wasn’t all for nothing,” he continued. “He came back and we got Tang. Tang is pretty cool.”

“Yea, he is. I just wish he believed I like him.”

The pig asked, “Do you or do you just like him because he’s master?”

“I… I don’t know. I would like to believe that I do and I do but his words make me doubt that.”

“You have to figure it out. It isn’t easy for him, ya know? The guy he has a crush on only likes him because he’s the reincarnation of the guy he loved. And this whole time, this guy has never said a word.”

“I know what he thinks and I’m trying to figure it out so I can tell him.”

“If ya ever need us, we’re right here.”

Wujing nodded and got up from the couch. “Thanks… big brothers.”

The two grinned at being acknowledged as his eldest disciple brothers even though their relationship wasn’t completely repaired. The blue demon went into the kitchen with Tang. The human looked at him as he stood over a pan, he pressed a hesitant kiss and whispered “Good job but I’m still mad.”

“I know. I’ll prove to you I like you.”

The human’s eyes drifted to the pan, a small nod of the head and replied, “I hope you mean that” then went back to ignoring him.

#lego monkie kid #monkie kid #red shark au #red sand au #sha wujing #sandy #lmk sandy #tang #mr tang #sun wukong #monkey king #monkie kid wukong #pigsy #zhu bajie #jasmineteashipping #jasminetea #my fic #philo/tiger writes #I’m making that a tag now

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gloomybabygirl · 3 years

Text

{chicken soup} Poe Dameron x reader

this story depicts the reader struggling with an eating disorder and being helped through an episode of self hatred. please read with caution.

a/n: hi hi this is a little self indulgent comfort fic because I had a rough time dealing with my ED today :) part 3 of ‘in my head’ is coming, I promise!! I'm trying to make sure I love it before I post. also p.s. I know Coraline isn't in Star Wars aksdjbjdb it’s just my chicken soup movie OKAY

warnings: depictions of an eating disorder (body dysmorphia and starvation), mentions of self hatred, mentions of weight (not specified), self deprecation (reader), this is a fluff comfort fic! if any of these are a trigger, please consider skipping this one. take care of yourselves loves, you’re all beautiful <3

word count: 1633 (oops I meant to make it shorter)

summary: Poe comforts you when he realizes you haven't been taking care of yourself

You were getting sick of the face looking back at you in the mirror. You had studied your own face for so long you were pretty sure you’d filled your quota for the year. You’d been in the refresher for the better part of the night. Ignoring the hunger pains you felt, you continued to inspect yourself. You slowly rotated and contorted your naked body at odd angles trying desperately to find a way to accept what you were seeing reflected back at you. You ran your hands along the parts of you that you weren't so fond of and poked and prodded them. You shifted your eyes back up to the face that you had spent so long scrutinizing. Puffy eyes and tear stained cheeks stared back at you. You climbed up onto the counter and sat cross legged so you were nose to nose with your reflection. You stared into you own eyes as the tears welled up once more.

Poe had been gone for two days with BB-8 on a mission. He hated to leave you alone and worried that you wouldn’t take care of yourself while he was away. You lied through your teeth when you told him you’d be okay without him.

The truth was that you couldn't heal alone. Sure, you had to do most of the work yourself, but Poe’s understanding and love was an integral step into you feeling like yourself again. It was okay for you to need help.

You jumped when you heard the blast doors open, scrambling off the counter. Your hastily tied your robe around your waist just as Poe stepped into the refresher.

“Baby you're not going to believe this mission! I had a run in wi-” He stopped mid sentence when his caring eyes met your bloodshot ones. “What’s wrong my love?” He took two long strides to you and cupped his hands over your cheeks, wiping the tears with the rough pads of his thumbs. His eyes turned more worried when you didn't respond, just gnawed anxiously at your lip. How could you tell him how you were feeling? He would never understand.

“Baby?” He moved his hands to stroke your arms, desperate to elicit a response from you. All you could do was look up at him, immediately feeling the tears fall once you saw the distressed look in his eyes.

He pulled you into his warm embrace, guiding the back of your head to rest on his chest with your folded hands against your face. Strong, protective arms completely encompassed you and Poe gently rocked you where you stood. He pressed kisses to the top of your head, patiently waiting for you to be ready to talk about what was bothering you.

It wasn't always easy for Poe. Patience was a learned trait for him. He wanted you to be able to come out and say exactly how you were feeling so he could help you feel better faster. Over the years he came to find that sometimes you needed time to process exactly how you were feeling. You were filled with deep, complex emotions that were often times hard for you to sift through.

You sniffled and lifted your head to look at him.

“I hate myself,” you muttered, looking away from his eyes. You couldn't look at him and say those words to him when you knew he loved you so much.

He pulled you back into his arms. “Please don't talk that way about my girlfriend. I love her. And she has so many lovable qualities.”

You lifted you head again, allowing him to wipe away the fresh tears.

“Did my girlfriend eat while I was away?” he asked innocently. You once again had to look away when his face fell with the realization that you hadn’t. He was upset that you hadn't taken care of yourself while he was gone. When you were feeling insecure about your body, it was a bad habit of yours to starve yourself.

“Baby you need to eat. Please?”

You shook your head, feeling like you were underserving of food when you hated the way your body looked.

“Can I ask you something?”

You nodded.

“If I asked you to take care of something important to me, would you?”

“Yes, of course,” you responded automatically.

“Then why aren’t you taking care of yourself?” He asked, cupping your face and giving the tip of your nose a kiss. He then led you over to the bed, guiding you to sit when he noticed you were wobbly from lack of nutrition.

“Stay here, I’ll be right back, I promise,” He looked over at BB-8 in his charging station. “BB, you’re in charge of cuddles until I get back, okay buddy?”

The droid beeped dutifully and proceeded to roll over to you, nudging you and chirping happily.

The blast doors flew open twenty minutes later revealing Poe with food in one hand and a stack of holovids in the other.

“First, food and water. You deserve nourishment, my love. And you don’t need to feel guilty about eating, I’m going to eat the same thing you do.”

You were reluctant to eat with him but you could’t resist when he revealed he had brought your favorite food home.

“And don't worry about finishing it, you know I always have room for whatever you don’t eat,” he smiled at you, knowing he didn't really need to remind you of this fact.

Once he was satisfied with the sustenance you had put in your body, he pulled you to your feet. He guided you back to the refresher and let go of you only for a moment to start the shower.

He respectfully helped you undress and then stripped himself, waiting for the water to be a bearable temperature. When he was satisfied with is very scientific ‘hand water temperature test’, he stepped into the shower, pulling you with him.

Under the steaming water he massaged shampoo through your hair, smiling to himself as he saw your eyes flutter closed at the feeling.

“Will you talk to me?” you asked. “Tell me about your mission. I just want to hear your voice.” The warm water was starting to relaxing you.

He laughed to himself, but began to tell you about the mission he’d spent the last two days on. He kept his tone even, even during the exciting parts so that his voice maintained its soothing lull.

When he was done washing you and had done the same to himself, he took a step back to admire you, keeping his hands on your lower back.

“Beautiful,” he murmured, so quietly you weren't even sure you’d heard it correctly.

Suddenly self-conscious with his eyes burning you, your arms came up to hide your body from him. He shook his head and carefully placed your arms back at your sides.

“You don't ever have to hide from me,” he whispered.

Poe took his time with you under the running water. He kissed every inch of the body that he loved so much, paying special attention to his favorite parts of you, and to the parts of you he knew you weren't fond of. He whispered how much he loved each part of you as he went, slowly making his way across your skin, painting you with his lips. His words flowed out and bathed you in love and warmth, making you start to believe them. If this is what it would take for you to learn to love yourself, Poe would do it everyday. He wanted you to see yourself the way he saw you.

Once he felt satiated from you, he turned the shower off, still holding you in his arms. He wrapped you in a fluffy towel before grabbing your hand and once again leading you to the main room of your shared quarters.

He pulled out your favorite pajamas and helped you dress in them, smiling at how cute you looked with your wet hair and fresh face. He donned his softest pajamas, knowing you'd snuggle into him regardless, but not wanting to take any chances.

He turned to look at you sitting on the bed, quiet but no loner looking like you were going to cry. Progress.

He held up the selection of holovids he had stolen from Finn, “Which chicken soup movie tonight, my love?”

You surveyed his choices, smiling at the fact that he knew you well enough to have chosen all your favorite comfort movies. “Coraline,” you decided. You wanted something you’d seen over and over so you could fall asleep while you watched.

“Coraline it is,” he began the holovid and made his way over to the bed, burrowing himself under plush blankets he had also stolen (from Leia this time).

“Come here baby,” he opened his arms to you. You readily climbed into his open arms, relishing in the way his arms instantly wrapped around you. This was your happy place.

“Thank you,” you whispered against his neck, giving him a small kiss there.

“You’re welcome baby. But you don’t have to thank me, I want you to love yourself and I’ll do anything I can to make that happen.” He pressed a soft kiss to your lips, nose, forehead, and lips again before you nuzzled back into his neck.

Halfway through the movie, Poe looked down to find you had fallen asleep, mouth slightly open. He felt his heart soften and relief wash over him at seeing you peacefully sleeping in his arms. He could finally relax, knowing his efforts had succeeded.

Poe wanted you to love yourself as much as he loved you. And he would help you in whatever ways you needed until you loved who you saw in the mirror.

#poe x reader #poe dameron imagine #poe dameron fic #poe dameron one shot #poe dameron x reader #star wars imagine #star wars fic #tw eating mention #tw eating disorder

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adastra121 · 3 years

Text

Green Thumbs

Book: The Elementalists

Pairing: Beckett Harrington x Wood-Att MC (I didn’t specify a gender)

Summary: Beckett struggles with a Wood magick spell, so the Wood-Attuned MC helps him understand a bit better.

A/N: So this is a short fluffy one-shot of Beckett and MC that I started writing when The Elementalists first came out (yeah, as you can tell I’m often really late with things). I had the idea when I read a line about Metal magick and Wood magick being opposites and I really wanted to explore how magick worked and why an Attuned of one type would have trouble with the other. Obviously, I didn’t expect to see something like that happen in the books, because it would be difficult to code with differently Attuned MCs, but this is how I imagined a scenario where Beckett is struggling with Wood magick and a Wood-Att MC helps him grow as an Attuned (as Wood-Atts do uwu). Also, this is told in second person from Beckett’s perspective.

Beckett could feel the frustration building up as the potted plant wilted yet again after he performed the spell. He’d always had difficulty with Wood magick, but he had been working at this spell for over an hour. This was just getting ridiculous. And it wasn’t so much that he was killing the plants, rather, the plants simply refused to work with him. Like they knew exactly what the spell intended and, by virtue of it being something Beckett wanted to happen, decided to do the exact opposite.

“Beckett,” your voice chimed from right beside him. “Don’t beat yourself up over this. Didn’t you say it was natural for Metal-Atts to have trouble with Wood magick?”

“Well, yes, I did say such a thing, but…” He ran a hand through his hair, breathing out a frustrated sigh. “Not for a Harrington. It shouldn’t be…and if I cannot master even a basic Wood magick spell like this…”

“It doesn’t make you any less of a brilliant Attuned,” you cut him off, slipping your hand in his and giving it an affectionate squeeze.

Beckett felt the flush creep up his neck when his eyes landed on your bright smile, before he glanced away and awkwardly cleared his throat. One would think that after all this time together, he would get used to your random displays of physical affection. But no, of course, Beckett would still get flustered around you like some school boy around his crush. It didn’t help that you loved to tease him about it as well, even more so after you two decided to get into a romantic relationship. Luckily for him, you decided to spare him the teasing and get straight to the feedback.

“Wood magick and Metal magick are opposites,” you continued. “It makes sense why an Attuned specializing in one would find the other difficult. I know it took me a while to get Metal magick down.” You let out a little laugh to yourself. “Or any magick, for that matter.”

Beckett bit back a smile. “And how did you get around it?”

“Well, let’s see…” You hum for a moment, tapping your chin as you thought, lips pursed in an adorable pout. Honestly, how could you make such unsolicited comments all the time about his own “cuteness” when you acted like this?

“The way I see it,” you said, drawing him out of his thoughts, “Metal magick calls for mastery of the self. And it suits you perfectly. You are always striving to be better. Always pushing yourself to your full potential. And you rely on nobody but yourself to get to where you are. It actually amazes me how much you have accomplished, how you are so willing to go even further.”

Beckett didn’t think his face could grow any warmer, yet you seemed to love proving him wrong. His heart warmed with immense affection at your praise, every word filled with more sincerity and openness than he’d thought possible. How could you be so open, so willing to share your heart with everyone around you? With someone like him?

He couldn’t understand. Perhaps that was his problem.

“Wood magick, however, is not self-reliant,” you continued, turning your gaze to the potted plant. “You are not bending and moulding a form to the best of your ability. You are guiding a living thing. It requires you to listen, cooperate, and most importantly, trust. You need to trust that you don’t have to do everything yourself.”

Your eyes caught his for a moment, and he could have sworn he saw something flicker across their brilliance. A hint of knowing…reassurance. Were you still talking about magick? However, as quickly as that unspoken message played out in your bright gaze, your attention shifted back to the plant before you.

Beckett watched, inexplicably enraptured by your magick brought the wilted plant back upright. Your magick…it didn’t demand control over the plant, didn’t bend it to your will. It was patient, trusting, and…warm. Just as warm as it had been the first time he truly felt it.

One of the leaves continued to extend towards you, towards your open palm. Enraptured with his own curiosity, Beckett was wondering what sort of complicated spell you were preparing to demonstrate when you simply met the leaf with your palm. “High five!”

He paused, blinking a couple times, before letting out a groan.

“I have finally done it—I have failed the Harrington name,” he murmured. “I’ve resorted to asking for help from a Wood-Att who has not only just recently been introduced to magick, but also uses the art for handshakes with houseplants.”

“Oh, no need for the dramatics, you dork,” you beamed, sidling up behind him. “Let’s start small and build from there. Kind of like relationships.”

You placed your hands around his, your magick still so inviting and warm like sunshine, and he realized then that you were sharing your magick with him. Not so much in a way that lends him your power, though, you weren’t giving him the materials to build something great. It was more like you were leading him along a dance, magick guiding him into a certain direction but also listening to his magick, his heart. You were always frighteningly good at that, reading his heart.

He didn’t know what to do with that knowledge.

“It’s okay. It will listen to you. Don’t force it, just let it respond to you in its own way.”

Beckett nodded, taking in a deep breath and letting his eyes drift shut to relax. It was strange, he realized. He never felt more vulnerable than when he was around you. You were always so open and free with your thoughts, your feelings, with your love. One would think that made you too trusting, naïve, defenseless to anyone who wanted to hurt you — in fact Beckett did think exactly that before you became friends. That was when he realized that as much as you allowed him to know more about you, he was letting himself be known as well. All his failures, his insecurities, his weaknesses. It went both ways.

And being known — having people know not only your name, not only your pride and accomplishments, but knowing and seeing you — was a terrifying thing. With you, he couldn’t hide behind any of those, he had no shield, no armor. He always thought that one would be weak without them. But you had long known that wasn’t true.

It had never occurred to Beckett that an open, unguarded heart could have been hurt before. He’d always thought it was a result of never experiencing pain. But that wasn’t true. Your openness and kindness weren’t out of naivety, they were a choice — one that took strength, resilience, and so much bravery. You chose to open yourself to the world because you knew before he did that there was more to vulnerability than weakness. There was joy and friendship and growth. There was love.

You made him vulnerable…and you made him stronger.

It was a simple thing to place his trust in you.

“Beckett, open your eyes,” you whispered, breath brushing against his ear.

He did as you told, and saw a leafy tendril reaching out toward his hand, brushing tenderly against his fingers. Beckett breathed out an incredulous laugh.

You threw your arms around him, wrapping him in a warm, giddy embrace. “You did it! I knew you could!”

He was at a loss for words, choosing instead to watch your smiling face, your eyes filled with pride in him, in a way that was somehow worth more than all the awards in the world combined. He only wished you would pull him in closer.

Something suddenly wrapped around his arm and yanked him out of your embrace. “Gah!”

And then he found himself entangled in the vines of the plant, leaves tickling his skin, gently swaying as if he was being cradled.

“Oops,” you said, chuckling at the display of open affection. “I forgot to warn you how enthusiastically they can respond to you once you’ve formed a bond. Alright, buddy, you can let him go now. Thanks for the help.”

You stroked a hand along the stem, which relaxed under your touch and eventually dropped Beckett back onto his feet. His face was flushed a bright red in embarrassment as he attempted to straighten out his clothes.

“I think I’ll stop here for now. As much as I would love to continue cuddling the university’s flora, I do have other classes to study for.”

He sent an apologetic look to the plant as if to say “no offense.”

…God, you might be rubbing off on him a little too much.

“They don’t usually react like this one you’ve gained their trust,” you mumbled, rubbing your chin thoughtfully. “What were you thinking about before it pulled you in?”

How much I wanted to sink deeper into your embrace until I’m forever lost in your warmth and affection. “Er, I was just…nervous, I suppose,” he fibbed, feeling his face warm yet again as he stuttered.

“Well, whatever that was about, you still performed the spell successfully! And the plant seems to like you,” you said. Your smile turned mischievous, a bit too pleased, and Beckett knew what that look usually meant. “I knew you’d grow on each other eventually.”

“…If that was intended to be a Wood magick joke, I am breaking up with you.”

The plant beside them shuddered as if agreeing with him about his partner’s corny humour. You let out a bright giggle and gave him a quick peck on the cheek.

“Nah, you wouldn’t. I’ve grown on you, too.”

At that, Beckett allowed himself a fond smile, even as you were already turned away, starting off in the direction of the library.

“Yes,” he admitted quietly to no one in particular. “You have.”

You looked over your shoulder with a radiant smile that, Beckett was starting to realize, he couldn’t remember his life without.

“Come on, Harrington, Wood magick’s not the only attunement we have to review!”

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jamestrmtx · 3 years

Text

Fairytale Complex - [Undertale | Sans x Reader]

[Gender Neutral, Frisk's Parent Reader | Slow Burn]

Chapter Twenty | Ooo I Ooo I Ooo I Ooo I (Part 2 of 2 | His POV) [First] | [Previous] | [Next]

Song Referenced

• • •

did he give you an exact date?

Unfortunately, no.

At first, I had at least until the end of the year, but…

CPS wants this resolved quicker than he thought.

guessin' you need to finish tourin' the underground first then, right?

Yes.

Would it be possible the day after tomorrow?

Or just… sometime this weekend?

I can go by myself, but…

Asgore won't allow that unless I'm with someone else.

Says I shouldn't be walking so far and so long alone if I haven't recovered yet.

you don't need to go alone, either way.

be it my job or not, I still wanna help out.

so the day after tomorrow's fine with me, bud.

we can discuss those details better when we drive over to tori's school tomorrow.

Are you sure?

And…

Does that 'we' imply you'll be picking us up?

100%

but yeah, i'll drive you guys there.

and pick up paps on the way, too.

it's easier for all four of us.

Mhm.

don't believe me?

Oh, I believe you.

I just don't think that's the only reason why you're picking us up, when I already have the address.

so what's the other one?

Don't get cocky, Serif.

I'm not gonna type that out.

It's a godsend Frisk will be with us, too.

'Cause I sure don't trust being alone with you anymore.

inna bad way?

Nah.

niiice.

pick you guys up tomorrow, then?

Yes.

We'll see you tomorrow.

And thank you in advance.

∆ Sticker | Happy Cartoon Bunny™ waving goodbye ∆

"You've changed, Sans."

He ignores that comment to view (Y/N)'s last two messages again.

While he doesn't know why that particular sticker bothers his mind so much, a few scrolls up to revise his chat history with the human reveal this is the first time they've shown any sort of informality or spontaneity in their typing. (Y/N) came off cold in their texts, though -- based on how they acted outside of a chat app -- that wasn't their intention, but more of an automatic way for them to talk with someone they didn't exactly deem trustworthy enough yet. He grins at that thought and feels his face warm up, something he confirms when touching his cheekbone, cold palm contrasting with that heat.

"You're wasting your time with that human," Drunk Bun says, snapping him out of his daydreaming.

They've sat themselves on the bar stool next to him and slam what looks like their tenth can of cheap, off-brand beer against the counter, crunching it down into more than half its size. He doesn't know how long they've stood there or why he's lost this much awareness of his surroundings. The bar's practically empty and calm now compared to before, though there's loud music blaring from the jukebox, playing an already overplayed song on repeat. There's no excuse for his distracted mind other than having lost himself while texting with the human, so he admits that fault with partial sourness, against accepting he's that smitten with them.

"You're changing for the worse," his company adds, narrowing their eyes at him. "Every time we come here to catch up, you mention something stupid about that (L/N) person, or just text the whole evening away with them. I... I've never seen you worry so much about someone so inconsequential." They scoff and cross their arms tight. "I may understand you caring after Frisk as a way to repay them for rescuing us, but (L/N) is completely useless. They've done absolutely nothing remarkable beyond creating a huge scene at that bus you were both on."

"Being harassed by a rando and faintin' after's them causin' a scene?" Sans asks, quirking an eye socket.

"Oh, screw off, bone boy -- You know what I mean. They've brought you nothing but trouble and needless responsibilities!" The bunny grits their teeth and slams their hand over the table, dragging eyes to their side. "I'm betting you can't go a day without texting them or without you doing something for them."

"You need to-"

Beep-beep.

The phone is snatched from his hands just as quick as that noise rings.

"Give that back."

"No." They keep the phone right above him, taking advantage of his shorter height. "Your fault for not putting a lock on it."

Drunk Bun scoots away and holds the phone tight as they fumble with it. Then, they stop to look at what he assumes is another text message from the human. A grimace shows on their face and they grasp the device tight, enough to make the screen complain and warn them over the pressure they're exerting against it. "Now this is beyond pathetic, Sans," they comment, letting out a loud, burst laugh. "Is this seriously the one you're sacrificing your entire personality for?" They give him his phone back, though not before hesitating when it's time to let go. "That human is-"

"Gimme a sec."

His attention falls on the picture displayed on screen, revealing (Y/N) and Frisk posing in it. The adult wears a suit and tie while the child has Toriel's school uniform on. The former's pose appears forced and awkward while the latter seems to be the reason the picture was taken with how excited they seem about their outfit.

Frisk wanted me to show you this.

It's what we'll be wearing for tomorrow!

There's a three-minute interval between that and the next message.

I know classes still haven't started there, but… They wanted to wear it, so I joined them by trying on something special for, well…

That job offer you told me about.

I don't know if I'll accept or not yet, but…

Thank you for the opportunity, and for believing in me.

∆ Sticker | Happy Cartoon Bunny™ giving a thumbs-up ∆

"You're grossing me out, honestly. What kind of look is that?"

It takes him a while to react, focus glued on (Y/N)'s messages.

"What look?"

"That lovesick look on your face." Tears form on their eyes -- almost abruptly, hadn't their voice shaken right before that. "I- I've been flirting with you for years, and yet you've never once looked at me like that before." They stand up straight, stare down at him, and rest their hands on the table, blinking their tears away throughout. "I've known you for so damn long, and yet you fall for the first human you see up here? I-"

"So that's what this's about," he says, chuckling. "You're-"

"Don't you dare brush everything off as me having a crush on you, Sans." They hiss. "You're not the same as before, and that's as clear as day. You worry a lot more now, and… And you actually seem to care more about other stuff beyond your job and sleeping on it. Y- You-"

"Aren't those good things?"

"Maybe, but your entire personality changing isn't. I liked you better when you were less worked up with stuff that's none of your business." They stop to grab his phone again; a grin breaks the sorrow on their face. "But hey, y- you're just doing your job, aren't you? You should set things straight with that human and remind them you're only with them because Asgore told you to in that agreement letter you gave them."

"Won't work if I flirted with 'em first. Pretty sure they'll see right through my lies."

"Y- You flirted with them first?!"

"Yeah."

He dodges a punch aimed right at his face.

"Wait-"

They throw a second punch -- this one turning out to be a spoof -- and laugh at the sight of him falling for it; they then toss the phone high over his head after he's finished dodging that fake attack, and aim yet another punch right after.

He salvages the device, though at the cost of taking the blow right on his left eye socket.

"How can you admit that so easily? You're awful!"

"'Cause you're only a close friend. I don't owe you an explanation about who I'm dating, and even less if you're gonna be actin' this way."

Drunk Bun springs at him, only to be held back by the rest of the regulars sitting near the scene, sufficiently fast enough for them not to wrangle Sans in anything major. They struggle and thrash at everyone around, trying to break free, but failing each time. It takes a fully-armored guard dog and a buff bear for them to be fought back into their rightful place, and yet another strong monster for them to let go of a wine bottle they insist on downing when seated.

Grillby intervenes as well by warning them to calm down, unless they want to be kicked out. Meanwhile, Sans turns on the camera and looks at his reflection through it, revealing a faint soreness already forming around his eye socket -- right where his companion had punched at. Being primarily made out of bones brought advantages, but having magical properties often led to him bruising easily.

Another regular approaches him and offers him a first aid kit, one he brings back to his seat to heal himself there.

While he takes out an antibiotic and some cotton pads with one hand, he uses the other to busy himself with (L/N)'s messages, against leaving them on read for so long.

no probs.

here at your service.

frisk looks great, btw.

and you? hot. 😘🔥

awkwardly hot.

hotwkward.

Frisk is reading the replies, you know?

damn.

i mean…

darn.

don't tell 'em i said that.

∆ Audio | 0:46 ∆

He clicks on it to hear Frisk giggling along with (Y/N) commenting they won't. It later continues with them asking if he's alright, specifying what they mean by highlighting a picture, this one sent by him. Blurriness makes up most of it when he clicks on it and zooms in, yet he can identify what looks like his companion from earlier, who'd apparently snapped and sent the human a photo by accident.

that's a friend o' mine.

they're, uh, kinda tipsy, so they got inna fight with me.

Really?

Are you okay?

yeah, just a lil' sore where they punched at.

What?!

i'm fine, puddin'.

dw about it.

Where's that bar at?

I'm near the mall, so I can drop by if you need anything.

aren't you still shoppin'?

take it easy.

I'm almost done.

Just trying out one more outfit.

can I see?

👀

Sure.

∆ Attachment | 2 images ∆

To his surprise, they're not only posing much more freely now, but they've also made the effort to strike another pose from a different angle. The human's outfit is composed of a dark green, semi-formal (suit/dress), fit for a night out. They've gone as far as to edit a wink emoji and some hearts at the corner of one -- the most flirty of the two.

So...

What do you think?

*jaw drops to floor, irises pop out of sockets accompanied by trumpets, soul beats out of rib cage, awooga awooga sound effect, pulls chain on train whistle that has appeared next to head as steam blows out, slams fists on table, rattling any plates, bowls or silverware, whistles loudly, fireworks shoot from top of head, pants loudly as tongue hangs out of teeth, wipes comically large bead of sweat from forehead, clears throat, straightens jacket, combs skull* ahem, you look real lovely.

*bwushes* Thank uwu kindwy, handswome. I'm vewy fwattewed.

...frisk ain't there anymore, right?

If they wewe, duwu uwu twhink I'd be twyping wike thiws?

faiw poiwnt.

Anyway…

I noticed the changes you made in that copy-paste, and…

You didn't edit the tongue part out.

So…

What that tongue do, baby?

😳

…lick…

...ice cream.

🔥🔥🔥

Ah, that's hot.

Or should I say cold?

And speaking of cold…

I'm gonna get you an ice pack or something.

You should take care of where it's sore, if you don't want it to bruise more.

whatta way to change the subject away from our moment, puddin'.

but uh, thanks in advance.

Anytime, teddy bear.

uwu

owo

• • •

"Am I really changin', Grillbs?" Sans asks, emptying his beer in three long gulps. "Be honest with me."

The one questioned takes the empty can from his hands and shakes his head in what looks more like disapproval rather than him answering that question. He first warns the skeleton about getting drunk, and reminds him to stay sober if he wants an answer as well as prevent himself from drunk-texting the source of his lovelorn self. When receiving a promise from him in response, he later answers with a 'no' and that he's still the same whenever he came to visit the bar.

"So I'm only different when I'm talkin' about 'em?"

Grillby nods.

"Inna bad way?"

He shakes his head.

"Then…"

Sans is stopped with a hand over his and faced with a stern look, despite the owner of it having no eyes or mouth.

"If they make you happy, then it's alright for you to show it," a regular states, intervening in the conversation. "You're not a lifeless machine. And nobody's one-dimensional either, so you shouldn't force yourself to act the same, strict way all the time. If you want to be all mushy with that human, then so be it. Aren't you the one who always says stuff like 'nothing really matters; in the end, we'll all die'? What's stopping you now of all times? Where's that hardcore nihilist I've known since years ago?

Sans rubs the back of his neck and huffs.

Clearly, neither the regular nor Grillby understood what he truly meant to say with his questions. He didn't mind his relationship with the human, but he also didn't want his old self to be replaced by someone he wasn't, as a result. There were things he didn't want to change about his old self -- things he feared would fade away now that he seemed to be getting into something as complex as a romantic relationship. There were parts of him he needed to keep in case the world were to start over again -- in case something went wrong. He couldn't allow himself to grow soft.

A pat on his shoulder lets him know he's lost himself in those thoughts.

"It's alright to fear change, but don't let that hold you back. If you like that human and they do, too -- Then what's there keeping you from going for it?"

It's not that easy.

Still, he keeps that thought quiet and replies with, "Thanks, but I'll probably have to give that more ti-"

The door of the bar opens to reveal someone new to it, but not so much unknown to Sans, who already finds himself distracted by them. (Y/N) stands in front of the entrance, looking this way and that. Frisk holds on to their hand, while a reusable shopping bag's hung over their parent's arm; a pharmacy's logo and name can be seen stamped on it. The eldest human approaches the area with caution, until their child assures them -- once, twice, and then thrice -- they've been to this place before and that it serves other purposes beyond that of providing alcohol and provoking fights. When they look forward, he meets their eyes and tries to glance away quickly, only to be called out by them soon after. They don't take long to smile wide and bright, wave, and -- finally -- approach his side after he waves back at them.

Rather than giving him whatever's in the bag, they instead let go of Frisk's hand, ask them if they want anything to eat, and give them some money when they sign the word 'fries'. Then, they sit on the stool next to his and settle the bag on their lap. "Come closer, and close your eye sockets," they say, still smiling. "It's your left one, right? It looks really sore already."

He nods and tries to ignore the warmth in his soul when they place a hand over his.

In his favour, they let go of him not long after to disinfect their hands and slip some gloves on when these dry out.

"I-"

"Shh."

(Y/N) holds his chin with their hand and grazes their fingers against his injury, their touch slow and careful as they apply some antibiotic over and around it. They then slide an eye patch on him and assumedly check around for any more bruises, based on the feeling of their hands grazing against his torso, arms, and neck. "The ice pack's in the bag -- Remember to throw it in the freezer when you get home." They touch his chest again, even more gentle this time. "So..." He notices some hesitance when they pull their hand back. "You're not hurt anywhere else?"

He shakes his head, words caught in his throat.

"Alright, but don't look yet."

Doing as told, Sans waits for whatever comes next. He stays still and stiff, until he feels their lips brush close to his eye socket, where they lay a soft, ticklish kiss at. They do the same with his other one and finish it off by kissing his nose cavity.

"Now you can."

[First] | [Previous] | [Next]

• • •

...

......

🌋🔥💥 ANNOYING NOTICE TIME 💥🔥🌋

So, here's a summary of all the events happening this month, which will affect Fairytale Complex's update schedule in various ways:

1. I will be rewriting all my other fics that aren't FaiCom, since I'm pretty darn happy and proud of the new writing style I've developed with this fanfic, and so I want to implement it into my older stories (with the exception of the Tom Nook x Reader one -- I'm rewriting that one despite being recent because it started off as a wild, 3 am energy project after finishing with finals, but then I actually had way more fun than I originally anticipated, so I'll be turning it into a long fic just like this one, lol). This means FaiCom will be taking a short, 1 to 2 week break after Arc 2 (Chapter 25) ends, to dedicate some time to all 4 of these stories.

2. I'm taking extracurricular classes/hobby workshops this summer, so I need to tweak my schedule again. This means FaiCom will be changing its schedule back to the old one, composed of weekly updates on Mondays, Wednesdays, and/or Fridays.

3. As mentioned previously, Pride Month is here, so I'll be making some one-shots and drabbles related to it, meaning updates might be slightly less frequent this month. BUT, a good majority of them are FaiCom related ones (and they will be posted on a different book to avoid conflicting with regular updates, too). More on that later on!

• • •

Tag List (Comment or message me if you want to be added to [or removed from] it!)

@the-simp-express

@nektotersh

@disastrous-l0vebug

@therealchickenjoe

@mintyflakes025

@pandaquick

@timelock97

@candle-creeps

@paperb9gs

@merak0

#sans x reader #undertale x reader #lgbt #lgbt themes #gender neutral reader #male reader #female reader #mother reader #father reader #parent reader #chubby reader #long fic #romcom #adventure #mystery #platonic relationships #slow burn

24 notes · View notes

apenapaperandadoofus · 3 years

Note

5 for the song ask 👁

Oh nice! I'll choose the character since you didn't exactly specify hehe I hope you like it!

Prompt from: Give me a character and a Disney song

Kiss the Girl (Yoosung x Fem!MC)

Saeyoung sighed as he laid his head on his hand. His twin brother who was sitting beside him didn't pay any attention and kept his focus on the snacks in front of him. It helped if he focused on only one thing, he still wasn't used to being around a lot of people, specially the type of loud, fancy and extravagant guests that always ended up invited to the RFA party for some reason or another. Saeran didn't exactly want to spend the evening with his brother, god knows he's had too much of that crazy idiot at home, but one of the guests thay you had invited (a self proclaimed vampire hunter that Jumin had recommended) would not stop pestering him with annoying questions, such as "can you actually wall outside on the sun for a bit" or "would you mind taking a bite of this garlic bread, I'm sure you can have some!" Then the breaking point was when the man suddenly said, "let me check your teeth for a bit" and suddenly grabbed his face. That's when Saeran gently pushed the man aside and went to sit next to his brother.

Saeyoung, having noticed that his twin hadn't even so much as cast a glance towards him sighed once again. And then again, this time louder. He opened his mouth to sigh again when Saeran abruptly turned towards him and glared.

"What!? Why in the world won't you let me eat in peace huh?"

Saeyoung sighed again. "I just can't handle it brother. How can a person love another with every fiber of his being, but not have the amount of guts to go and talk to them...?"

"....Are you talking about yourself? Because if you are then I say that they don't deserve the amount of torture you're-"

"Saeran! Oh my darling little brother, no it's not me! Look across the room, towards that little blond boy, shifting nervously and looking at the ground, and then, for a split second, looking at her."

Saeran sighed and did as his brother said, and then he grunted. "You mean Yoosung's obvious crush on MC? It's a surprise she hasn't figured it out yet. Also never call me that again or I promise I'll throw the whole bowl of punch in your face."

"Gah! But you are my darling bro- alright fine fine, SAERAN DON'T GET UP TO GRAB THE PUNCH I'M SORRY!! Anyway the thing is, I'm pretty sure the reason they haven't asked each other out yet is because they're pretty shy. They need some sort of, uh, push you know?"

Saeran glared suspiciously at his brother. "Please don't tell me that you're going to try and get them together-."

"I'm going to get them together! And you are going to help me!"

"Excuse me what-"

"Who are we trying to get together?" Someone asked from behind the twins and they both turned around in surprise. Zen was looking at them with his eyebrows raised and his arms crossed, looking like a mother about to scold her children. Of course, Zen only seemed to be ready to scold Saeyoung, since Saeran wasn't really doing anything.

Saeyoung quickly jumped up from his seat and smiled. "ZEN!! Oh this is perfect!!!! We are going to get Yoosung and MC together!"

Zen looked at Saeran, and he shrugged. Them he looked back at Saeyoung.

"Sev- Saeyoung, listen. These sort of thinga take time alright? Yoosung and MC will get together when they're both ready."

"But they ARE ready, now all they need is just a lil' push! It's all in the name of LOVE!"

Saeran cringed and quickly turned around to keep eating his food. That was certainly more interesting than hearing Saeyoung talk such nonsense.

"Well....hmm...I guess helping them a bit wouldn't hurt." Zen said, a thoughtful look on his face.

"Yes! We need to help those two love birds finally confess to each other! Do you have any ideas Zen? Saeran?"

"Don't get me mixed up in this." The younger twin groaned and kept poking at his food.

Then, Zen snapped his fingers and smiled. "I know! A love song."

"A LOVE SONG!!" Saeyoung repeated excitedly.

"Yes, yes, a romantic song. Recently on this show I've been casted on includes this one couple that like each other but don't have the courage to confess, so their friends set them up to dance together to this very romantic song, and in the end the couple figure out their feelings and confess to each other. We can do that!"

Saeyoung smiled. "Great idea!"

"Alright, then I'll go and talk to the band, be right back!"

Zen quickly walked towards the band that was hired by Jumin to play at the party, and Saeyoung squealed as he shook his brother's shoulder.

"Saeran this is great! We can both help Yoosung finally confess to MC!"

Saeran pushed his brother's hand off and sighed. "And what makes you think I'll help you huh?"

"Well, Yoosung is your friend isn't he? And aren't you annoyed of seeing those two kiddos acting as if they're walking on eggshells when they're with each other, it has to be bothering you."

"...it is but I'm still not going to help you and Zen with your crazy scheme, I bet it's not even going to work."

Saeyoung groaned. "Saeeeeraaaaan please!! Look, I'll buy you some ice cream when were done alright?"

"You can't bribe me with food." He scoffed, trying to sound offended, when obviously he seemed to be thinking about it.

"And I'll get you out of the party earlier. We manage to get Yoosung and MC to at least kiss, and afterwards we leave, get ice cream and then head straight home!"

Saeran stayed quiet for a few minutes before sighing and getting out of the chair, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Fine. Let's get those two dumbasses to kiss."

Saeyoung let out a woop, and soon Zen made his way towards the twins with a big smile on his face. "Alright, we've got the band ready, and I offered myself to sing. Does Yoosung know what we're doing?" He asked.

Saeyoung quickly ran up towards Yoosung, whispered something that made the boy blush, and then shoved him towards you, then he winked and walked over to Zen.

"Now he knows! We're all ready chief."

Zen nodded and made a gesture at the band, and then he opened his mouth to sing,

"JuSeEyYoO-"

"Zen!!!" Saeyoung quickly grabbed the microphone from a very offended Zen, and then cleared his throat.

"What!? It's a classic, besides I'm the singer here you aren't-"

"SHHH!!" Saeyoung said, and then he walked over to the band and whispered something to them.

Saeyoung said, "Watch and learn, I've been preparing for this all my life." Then he pointed at the bongo guy.

"Percussion."

He smiled.

"Strings. Winds. Words." Each time more and more instruments began to play, and Saeyoung made his way to where Yoosung was awkwarly standing beside you.

"There you see her

Sitting there across the way"

Yoosung looked at his friend with a confused expression.

"She don't got a lot to say

But there's something about her..."

"Saeyou-"

"And you don't know why

But you're dying to try

You wanna kiss the girl." He wriggled his eyebrows and Yoosung let out a little yelp.

"Wha-WHAT SAEYOUNG STO-"

"Yoosung?" You asked as you walked towards him. Yoosung blushed and pointed behind him. "S-sorry MC, it's just Saeyoung being...well, Saeyoung."

"Uhm, Yoosung there's no one behind you."

"Wha-WHAT!?"

You smiled at him, still confused. "Why don't I go and get you some punch? I'll be back in a few."

Yoosung watched you walk over to the table, and then he let out another scream once he felt someone whisper in his ear.

"Yes, you want her

Look at her, you know you do

Possible she wants you too

There is one way to ask her

It don't take a word

Not a single word

Go on and kiss the girl"

"Saeyoung I don't know what you're doing but stop, I can't just go up and kiss her."

Saeyoung rolled his eyes, whispering chicken before going to a very uncomfortable Zen and Saeran, holding the microphone towards tnem.

"SING WITH ME NOW!"

"Saeyoung I don't-"

"Sha-la-la-la-la-la

My oh my

Look like the boy too shy

Ain't gonna kiss the girl"

Yoosung blushed. "W-well I am! Maybe I just, I, I don't know!"

"Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Ain't that sad?

Ain't it a shame?

Too bad, he gonna miss the girl!!"

Yoosung felt himself become even redder, from anger or from embarrassment he didn't really know. That's when you suddenly grabbed his arm and smiled.

"Here's some punch...oh Yoosung are you feeling alright? Why don't we go and get some fresh air outside?" You asked, and Yoosung tried his best to smile.

"Y-yes...that's, yeah that's great let's go."

You grabbed Yoosung's hand and led him around the beautiful garden. He gasped as he noticed the lights, the flowers, and the pond that had a bridge to walk across it.

"MC, this...this place is beautiful. You did a great job"

You smiled. "Thank you."

Then, Yoosung gave you a sheepish smile.

"N-not as beautiful as you though." He, of course regretted the words as soon as they came out of his mouth, but you giggled and told him thanks.

"Why don't we go over the bridge? We can't really see the stars from here since the trees are blocking them, but I'm sure we'll get a better view from there."

As you led the way, Yoosung almost screamed when he noticed a familiar red head pop out from the bushes.

"Now's your moment

Floating in a blue lagoon."

"Saeyoung LeAv- ZEN?!"

"Boy, you better do it soon

No time will be better

She don't say a word

And she won't say a word

Until you kiss the girl" Zen said, and Yoosung groaned as he glared at the two men.

"Guys I...fine. I'll... I'll kiss her...."

Yoosung slowly walked towards you, and the two do you looked up at the sky. You sighed happily, leaning against Yoosung, and he blushed. Then, he heard from behind.

"Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Don't be scared

You got the mood prepared

Go on and kiss the girl"

Yoosung slowly turned around to glare at his friends who were giving him a thumbs up.

"Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Don't stop now

Don't try to hide it how

You want to kiss the girl."

He gasped as he saw Zen and Saeran (who was holding some maracas and looked as if he was about to use them to kill someone) appeared on the bush behind them too!

And then, to make matter worse, suddenly Jumin appeared beside them with a neutral expression on his face and holding Elizabeth in his arms, trying to sing along!

"Sha-la-la-la-la-la

Float along

And listen to the song

The song says kiss the girl!"

You suddenly jumped and looked at Yoosung. "Hey did you hear something just now?" You asked him, but before you could turn around he cupped your face and made you look at him.

"U-uhm no! Nothing just uh, mosquitoes uhm, don't pay any attention to that!"

"Oh but if there's mosquitoes then shouldn't we go back inside? I don't want you to get bitten-"

"NO!" He grabbed your arm and pulled (a bit too hard) making you bump into his chest. You both blushed and Yoosung tried his best to keep his breathing steady.

"MC...."

"Sha-la-la-la-la-la

The music play

Do what the music say

You got to kiss the girl..."

Slowly, Yoosung leaned towards you, his face getting redder and redder.

"You've got to kiss the girl!!" Saeyoung let out some excited squeals as both you and Yoosung slowly got closer and closer.

"Oh, don't you wanna kiss the girl..."

"I want to go back to eat, why's it taking so long, besides I think we shouldn't be spying on a private moment like-."

"Oh shush Saeran! Look they're about to do it!!! Yes Yoosung my boy!!!!"

You placed your hands on Yoosung's shoulder while he cupped your neck and tangled his fingers in your hair.

"MC...." He whispered.

"You've gotta kiss the girl..."

The two of you closed you eyes, now your lips about to touch.

"Go on and kiss the girl"

Yoosung blushed and pressed his lips against yours, only to feel-

A cold splash of water hit his back and he let out a help.

"Wake up idiot. It's 10am already." Saeran glared at Yoosung, who was looking confusedly around the room.

"I-uhm, MC? Wha- no we....I was about to...why am I?"

"Oh you don't remember?" Saeran smirked mischievously at Yoosung, who shook his head.

"Oh this is gonna be fun. Yesterday you were wasted, so wasted that you suddenly got the guts to kiss the MC, mostly thanks to my idiot brother and his stupid song."

"That part happened?"

"I wish it didn't. Anyway, before you were able to go all smoochy smooch with MC-"

"So I DID kiss her! I remember that at least!And then I fainted? But at least I got a kiss! WHEEOP!!!"

Saeran scoffed. "No. You leaned on the old bridge and fell. You were so shocked and embarrassed that you fainted while in the water, so Zen had to jump in and give you CP-"

And so the birds that were casually chilling in Saeyoung's rooftop got the scare of their life as a demonic screech was heard from the house.

Yoosung ended up needing about 5 years of therapy, but thankfully, as time passed, he gathered the guts to finally kiss you (and to not faint afterwards.) Then the two of you started dating, and you sometimes loved to tease him by making him remember that night. You would laugh as Yoosung would stutter and turn red, and then to apologize you'd give him a kiss~

The end!

#mystic messenger #yoosung kim #yoosung x mc #yoosung fluff #mysme #saeyoung choi #jumin han #saeran choi #choi bois #mysme zen

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httpfandxms · 4 years

Text

Exploring a New World (1/30)

Pairing: James T. Kirk x Reader

A/N: This is my very first fanfiction writing. I would really appreciate it if you would not plagiarize any of my work! Please give me your thoughts on this. I accept any suggestions or altercations for this series. If I’ve made mistakes or if something doesn’t make sense please let me know.

Important: The reader is Pike’s daughter, but I did NOT specify if they are biologically related or not (step daughter or adopted). I don’t ever intend to specify because I want poc!readers to be comfortable while reading

This series is based off the Star Trek: Alternate Original Series with actual scenes from the films.

You pushed open the doors to the club which allowed you to hear the full extent of the blaring music. You walked in making your way towards the very back looking for your friends.

As you made your way over to your group of friends you asked, “have any of you seen Uhura?” One nodded and pointed towards the bar. She was talking to a man, but with someone between them seemingly trying to ignore their conversation.

You walked through a small crowd, bumped into a few people on your way to Nyota. You placed a hand over her shoulder as you said, “hey, I figured I’d help you bring everything over.”

She smiled and responded, “thank you,” as she gave you a quick yet comforting hug.

“And who might you be, gorgeous,” the man she was speaking with said just before he pushed himself off the counter. He made his way towards you, but stopped once you were inches apart. You smelled the alcohol coming off his breath as he said, “I’m Jim Kirk.”

You glanced up to Jim realized that the man was actually blond and had the most alluring blue eyes. You along with anyone could get lost in those eyes. Your thoughts were interrupted as Nyota said, “she happens to be way out of your league.” She placed a hand on his chest to add some distance between you two.

“Oh, so that makes you in mine,” he teased as he turned to face Nyota.

“Please you are not her type. You seem more the kind to have sex with farm animals,” you scoffed.

“Well, not only,” he joked which resulted in you and Uhura to whole heartedly laugh. He took a step towards you and leaned forward as he whispered into your ear, “you definitely look like my type and I think I might be yours.”

Your eyes met his and you opened you’re mouth, but no words came out. Four officers approached you. The bald man in the middle ask, “this townie isn’t bothering you right?

“Beyond belief,” Nyota said then finished her drink.

“But its nothing we can’t handle,” you added whilst you waved them off.

“You both could handle me. That’s an invitation,” the blond quipped.

The bald officer barked, “hey, you better mind your manners. Do you have any idea who you’re trying to get with?”

“Relax, cupcake. It was a joke,” Kirk said as he patted man’s chest. He turned back towards you.

The man grabbed Kirk, spun him around to face him and snapped, “hey, farm boy. Maybe you can’t count, but there are four of us and one of you.”

“So get some more guys, and then it’ll be an even fight,” Kirk replied then tapped the man’s face.

The officer grabbed Kirk again and punched his across the face. He fell onto the bar groaning.

“Stop it,” Nyota growled.

Before the officer could hit Kirk in the face again, the blond kicked him in the stomach making him fall over a table. Another man came at Kirk, but he blocked his punches. Kirk got the upper hand and knocked the man out.

“That’s enough,” you pleaded.

A different officer came in and hit Kirk in the face making in spin onto Nyota with his hands on her breast. She pushed him off, but you stepped in and punched him in the face to wipe off that cocky smirk.

The men slammed the blond onto a table and beat him with one punch after the other.

“Guys, he’s had enough,” you yelled.

The man punching Kirk finally dropped him once a whistle was heard. Your eyes widened as you turned to the source of the noise only to see your father, Captain Christopher Pike.

“Outside, all of you. Now” he announced.

A chorus of “yes, sir” was heard as everyone made their way out of the bar. Your father saw you and shook his head as you gave him a shy shrug. Nyota wrapped her arm around yours and you walked out together.

The two men were sitting around a small table. “You know, I couldn’t believe it when the bartender told me who you are,” Pike chortled.

“Who the hell am I, Captain Pike,” Kirk mocked.

“You father’s son.”

Kirk ignored his statement and announced, “can I get another one,” to the bartender behind him.

“For my dissertation I was assigned to the U.S.S. Kelvin. Something I admired about your dad, he didn’t believe in no-win scenarios.”

Kirk took out the tissues out of nose and grumbled, “sure learned his lesson.”

Pike continued, “well that depends on how you define winning. You’re here, aren’t you? You know that instinct to leap without looking that was his nature too. And in my opinion, it something Starfleet’s lost.”

“Why are you talking to me man,” Kirk shook his head as he laughed.

“Because I looked up your file while you were drooling on the floor. Your aptitude tests are off the charts, so what is it? You like being the only genius-level repeat-offender in the Midwest?”

“Maybe I love it.”

“So your dad dies, you can settle for a less-than-ordinary life. Or do you feel like you were meant for something better? Something special? Enlist in Starfleet.”

“Enlist,” Kirk chuckled in disbelief. “You guys must be way down on your recruiting quarter for the month.”

Pike eyed Kirk for a moment the said, “you know, you remind me of my daughter. Always has a knack for trouble… and stubborn.”

“Then why aren’t you talking to her right now” Kirk answered back

“Because she actually got up and did something for herself. Rather than waste good potential,” Pike retorted. “Starfleet could use you. You can be an officer in four years, you can have your own ship in eight. You understand what the Federation is, don’t you? It’s important. It’s a peacekeeping and humanitarian armada.”

“We done?”

“I’m done,” Pike responded then stood up. “Riverside shipyard. Shuttle for new recruits leaves tomorrow at 0800.” Pike gave a tight-lipped smile then continued, “your father was captain of a starship for twelve minutes. He saved 800 lives, including your mother’s and yours. I dare you to do better.”

Kirk arrived on his bike and stopped near you and your father. He tossed his keys to a passing worker after they complimented his ride. He walked to your father and said, “four years? I’ll do it in three.” He then looked at you and beamed, “hello again, beautiful,” then turned around to enter the shuttle.

Your father tilted his head towards you, “you’ve met Kirk,” he asked with a raised brow.

You cringed as you responded, “yes, I did.” After a moment of silence of waiting for his response you chimed, “ok! I’m going to go and take my seat.” Then you went on the tip of your toes as you gave him a kiss on the cheek. “I’ll see you in a bit!” He slowly nodded making a face as though he was deep in thought.

On your way up the steps to the shuttle your father stammered, “it wasn’t like a date or anything, right?”

You laughed and shook your head, “I punched him” you reassured. He slowly let out a long breath and gave you a thumbs up.

You giggled slightly and turned on your heels and entered the shuttle. You saw Nyota and went towards her, only to notice that there weren’t any seats available beside her. She gave you an apologetic look and mouthed, “sorry.”

“Don’t worry about it,” you waved her off.

The only visible seats available were near Kirk. You sat beside him though leaving a seat between each other. “How’s your face,” you turned to smile at him. You watched as he opened his mouth only to be interrupted by a female officer and a man who were arguing as they entered the shuttle.

“I told you I don’t need a doctor. I am a doctor,” the man yelled.

“You need to get back to your seat.”

“I had one in the bathroom with no windows.

They kept at it until she said, “sir, for your own safely, sit down, or else I’ll make you sit down!”

That got him to keep quiet and sat down between you and Kirk. The man leaned over to Kirk and stated, “I may throw up on you. I’m choosing you over the beautiful girl beside me.” He motioned to you with his head. You looked down with a small smile as you pretended to not overhear the comment.

“Fair enough, but I think these things are pretty safe,” Kirk remarked.

“Don’t pander to me, kid. One tiny crack in the hull and our blood boils in 13 seconds. A solar flare might crop up, cook us in our seats. And wait till you’re sitting pretty with a case of Andorian shingles. See if you’re still so relaxed when your eyeballs are bleeding. Space is disease and danger wrapped in darkness and silence.”

“Well, I hate to break this to you, but Starfleet operates in space,” you chimed in.

“Yeah, well, I got nowhere else to go. The ex wife took the whole damn planet in the divorce. All I’ve got left is my bones,” the man said as he took out a flask and took a sip. He offered to Kirk who accepted.

“Jim Kirk,” he introduced himself as he raised the flask then took a sip.

“McCoy. Leonard McCoy,” the man said as Kirk passed it back.

Leonard offered you the flask which you took, “pleasure to meet you Leonard.” You took a sip and placed it into his awaiting hand.

“You going to tell me, us, your name or should we just keep calling you beautiful,” Kirk smiled.

“It’s Pike, Y/n Pike.”

#star trek #star trek imagine #james t kirk #james t kirk imagine #james t kirk x reader #jim kirk #jim kirk imagine #jim kirk x reader #captain kirk #captain kirk imagine #captain kirk x reader

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greenleafpestcontrolservices · 3 years

Text

INSECT LIGHT TRAPS (ILT’S) – BUG ZAPPERS – FLY LIGHTS

I’ve been in the pest management industry for over 24 years now. I’m one of the lucky graduates of the Environmental Pest Management Program. I not only learned from some great professors but also worked for some amazing companies. Ingrained in my DNA and the soul of GreenLeaf Pest Control is that pest management professionals play an extremely important role in public health. We are protectors of public health!

One of the pests that I dislike the most is flies…..especially when I’m eating! I don’t want to get into a big lecture on how these disgusting insects sponge up fresh moist feces and then vomit on your food. Let’s just say, flies have known vectors of foodborne illnesses, and therefore, pose a risk to the public. Remember the Pepto Bismol commercial “upset stomach…..diarrhea!”

foodborne illnesses, and therefore, pose a risk to the public are known for pests vectors. To keep our food supply safe, food processing facilities and their pest management partners have a clear objective – keep pests out and if they get in, use monitoring and control strategies to eliminate them. This is particularly true for insect light traps (ILTs). ILTs are used to monitor and control one of our highest risk pests in regard to food safety – FLIES.

BACK TO THE TOPIC AT HAND

Gone are the days when the Technician would show up routinely to fog, ULV/ULD, bomb a facility to control flies. We simply know better now and these fogging’s never addressed the root cause of the fly issue. In addition, the over-application of pesticides posed risks to human health and food safety. In a nutshell, the spray and pray model wasn’t the right approach. An integrated, when looking at fly control multipronged approach needed. One key aspect of fly management is the use of Insect Light Traps (ILT’s).

WHY USE INSECT LIGHT TRAPS?

The purpose of using light traps is to monitor the populations of a particular flying insect. Again, these are powerful monitoring tools and will likely not magically fix your fly problem.

TWO COMMON TYPES OF INSECT LIGHT TRAPS (ILT’S)

While both styles use light to attract these pests, they differ in what happens to the insect once it enters the trap.

Glue boards style units capture insects

Electrical grid units (AKA Zappers)

ILTs that use glue boards, the insect is drawn to the trap’s light and then caught on the glue board’s sticky surface.

ILTs that use an electrical grid, the insect is drawn to the trap and then electrocuted and collected in a tray below.

Insect light traps are designed to offer ongoing monitoring of flying insect populations and provide some level of control. Many types of insects can be attracted to light traps, and a survey of a light trap’s catch tray or glue-board can tell you a lot about what is happening in that facility.

As the name suggests, it’s the special bulbs that attract insects. The blue light emits ultraviolet (UV) wavelengths. Often referred to as

“black light,” its wavelength is typically between 300 and 400 nanometers.

WHERE TO USE LIGHT TRAPS

Light traps can generally be used just about anywhere, but a few variables do apply to each situation:

The client’s attitude is important with regard to his or her expectations about how the traps will be used. The traps should not be viewed as control mechanisms, because they probably will not eliminate all of the flying insects in the facility.

Sanitation is also very important in the control effort. Once the device is used to identify the problem and point it out to the client, the traps then become valuable monitoring devices.

In Canadian facilities, there are some general guidelines to use light traps. In general, these regulations have been designed to prevent contamination of food with insects or insect parts (that’s the extra crunch you don’t want).

The size of the light trap can make a difference in its attractiveness and should be considered when purchasing light traps. Certainly, The intensity of emitted light will have some effect on the trap’s attractiveness. As the light UV output decreases, it is less attractive to insects.

ONGOING BULB MAINTENANCE

There are two ways of testing the intensity of the light. One way is to replace the bulbs with new ones at regular intervals. As a general rule of thumb, In peak season May they replaced annually

You can also use a meter that will measure the ultraviolet output of the bulbs and tell you when their output is decreasing.

LOCATION, LOCATION, LOCATION

The most aspect use of light traps is arguably where they placed. Many times, the placement will depend on the actual conditions you are working under. In most cases, you are trying to head off the introduction of these pests, placing them low along walls protected from damage, will work best in capturing flying insects.

At GreenLeaf we are always concerned about a professional appearance. This also goes for the products that we purchase and install at a client’s location. Not all ILT’s need to look so commercial and ugly. Light traps vary considerably in appearance these days. Wall sconces have become an interesting addition to the styles of traps available, and certainly are more aesthetically pleasing than hanging glue sticks or flypaper from ceilings. If you’re a restaurant, QSR or have a client-facing business these lights are ideal for you.

ILT MAINTENANCE AND COSTS

The large industrial fly light traps are manufactured in various sizes and typically emit anywhere from 30 to 80 watts of energy. GreenLeaf only uses Safety Coated shatterproof bulbs in all our ILT’s. Having said that, this is a requirement for all food facilities (Yes, I’m referring to you…..bad pest control companies)!

As mentioned earlier, most manufacturers recommend replacing bulbs once a year. This is a good rule of thumb, but consider the situation where the ambient UV light has changed, or if new lights have been installed in a remodelled area. Either situation can affect the light competition, thus hampering the effectiveness of the fly light trap. Using the UV-A Meter may be a good idea to monitor these situations.

Cleaning and recording trap capture also takes time. Reports should be filed on what is being caught and what implications this may have on increasing sanitation problems or outside influences on the facility. As with any pest control program, the success of a fly control and monitoring program, using fly light traps, is often related to the time spent at each job. As the saying goes…..time is money.

THIRD-PARTY AUDITING STANDARDS

Fortunately, our third-party auditing bodies have very clear standards on ILT placement in relation to food and the impact it has on food safety. Some auditing groups specify how many feet should stand between food and ILTs. For example, #AIB and #Primus GFS state that does not place ILTs within ten feet of any food, whether it’s raw, processed food, etc. On the other hand, #NSF Cook & Thurber say eight feet should be the minimum distance.

Not all auditing groups give you a distance; they are effectively supporting the same standard in using the language “placed so as not to contaminate the food” within their requirements. This is an important placement consideration because ILTs should attract flying insects towards them, and not towards food.

ILT RISKS

There can be a risk of flying insects dying and then falling out of the device. This is particularly true for electrocution-style ILTs, where the electrocution may cause the insect to explode, potentially allowing insect fragments to fall outside of the collection tray. Never placed ITLs near food and never above food and food surfaces. The risk of escaping insect parts emphasizes the need for the distance between electrocuting ILTs and any food source.

ABOUT THE AUTHOR

Daniel Mackie aka Mr. Know Bugs is the VP – Quality Assurance at Greenleaf Pest Control. With over 24 years in the pest protection industry. Mackie is a Toronto, Kitchener / Waterloo, Vaughan and GTA pest control expert. Daniel Mackie is well-known as an industry go-to guy, an innovator of safe, effective pest control solutions, and is a regular guest on HGTV. Mackie, along with business partner Sandy Costa, were the first pest control professionals in Canada to use detection dogs and thermal remediation to eradicate bed bugs. In his free time, he is an avid gardener and beekeeper. According to Mackie: “We are Protects or Public Health”

#fly management #Flies light traps #household or commercial pests #Toronto house flies #pest control services #Barrie #Bradford #missisauga #Newmarket

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nikibogwater · 4 years

Text

The City Never Sleeps--a Tales of Arcadia fanfiction

“Moving to New York City is no easy task, and Douxie's been burning the candle at both ends for the past month in order to make ends meet. Fortunately, he has a family waiting for him every night when he comes home.”

Special thanks to @poetryinmotion-author for beta reading and providing me with the title!

So yes, this is my coping mechanism after the emotional trauma of Wizards. A little Found Family fluff to ease my screaming soul. Read on AO3:

https://archiveofourown.org/works/25830517

Or under the cut:

Why the hell was living in New York City so expensive?

Douxie had started this latest venture with at least some optimism. Protect the tiny sorceress and keep an eye out for any suspicious magical activity that could point to the return of the Arcane Order, all while remaining as inconspicuous as possible. It wasn’t that different from what he’d been doing for the last nine-hundred years.

Except for the damn cost of living.

Arcadia Oaks hadn’t exactly been low-rent either, but at least he’d been able to manage by juggling two part-time jobs and occasionally passing himself off as a streetside fortune teller (humiliating as that was) whenever finances got particularly tight. He’d had plenty of time to do his nightly patrols of the streets, chase down any rogue magical creatures, set new stasis traps, and be home in time to microwave dinner and pass out on his sofa-bed for seven hours before the routine began again the next morning. But New York City was a different monster.

He’d chosen this place for a few very good reasons. First, it was on the other side of the continent from Arcadia. Provided he’d covered their tracks right, the Arcane Order would have to scour any number of miles of the country before they could even begin to narrow down his position here. Second, the presence of magic in New York City was borderline undetectable. The area was so choked with noise, pollution, traffic, and people that picking out a magical signature from the chaos would be practically impossible. Third, (and perhaps this was the weakest reason, if he was being honest with himself) he had never been there before. Douxie had done some traveling in his centuries-long life, but somehow New York City had never ended up on his itinerary. If he was going to be immortal, he wanted to make the most of it and see the big sights. Up until now, he’d been stuck in Arcadia, trying to keep an eye on the magical stirrings there (and fuzzbuckets, there were a lot of them). Once he was free to go where he pleased, of course he was going to pick somewhere he genuinely wanted to be.

At least two of those reasons had been good ones, but that didn’t change the fact that paying for a studio apartment in New York City and feeding himself, Archie, and occasionally Nari (she only ate on days when she could not simply absorb energy from the sun) with no high-demand career skills to speak of was a herculean task. He’d had to take on three minimum-wage jobs just to make ends meet, and sleep? Well, he counted himself lucky if he got four hours in a single night.

Which landed him here, stumbling up to the door of their ramshackle apartment, fiddling with an ordinary keyring in order to keep up appearances should anybody walk by while he undid the twelve magical seals he had placed when he left this morning. He let himself in with a groan, slammed the door behind him, and somehow dredged up enough energy to replace the seals before he slid to the floor, utterly spent. What time was it? He’d gotten off work at 1:30, right? Or was he mixing up tonight with last night? Wait, was today Thursday or Friday? Fuzzbuckets, he could barely string two thoughts together in his head. He groaned again and pressed his fists against his bloodshot eyes. It was pitch black inside the apartment, and the only sound came from the small heating unit in the corner.

But he wasn’t alone. He felt a familiar form brush against his folded legs, and heard Archie’s welcoming purr close to him. Douxie sighed and blindly reached out, groping for a moment before his Familiar pressed his furry head against his waiting fingers.

“Did anything happen t’day?” Douxie slurred quietly. At this point, Archie no longer needed him to specify “anything magic related that could potentially be dangerous.”

“Nothing. All clear,” the cat told him, stepping into his lap. “Though I can’t say the same for you. I haven’t seen such a breakout since the fifteenth century.”

“What?” Douxie raised a hand to his face and felt his cheek, which was peppered with tiny red bumps. “Fuzzbuckets,” he moaned, letting his hand fall. “Think it’s the stress. I don’t remember the last time I slept through the night.” There were a few minutes of silence as Douxie stroked his friend’s fur, knowing he should move to his mattress in the corner, but too exhausted to care if he just passed out here.

“Douxie?”

His eyes slid open as he heard a small voice at his side (when had his eyes closed?) and saw Nari crouched beside him. She was wearing one of his old t-shirts, which was comically large on her tiny frame, and a part of him suddenly wished he could afford to buy her nicer clothes. He was her guardian now, he should at least be able to provide her with that. Then again, she had spent most of her considerably long life wearing enchanted armor from the Eternal Forest, so maybe she didn’t care about not having brand-name PJs. Right now, her eyes were sweeping over his face critically, her brow pinching with worry. Oh right, she was probably waiting for him to say something.

“H’llo,” he mumbled, his eyes closing again.

“Your aura is so weak,” Nari whispered, her hand coming to rest on his chest above his heart, where she could feel his magic give a pitiful, fluttering pulse beneath her fingers. “You are pushing yourself too far.” There was an element of reproach in her soft voice.

“Got no choice,” Douxie replied. “Have to keep you safe.” He heard her take in a sharp breath as though he had struck her. His lids flew open and he saw her fiddling with her hands and looking ashamed. “I....I didn’t mean...” He forced himself to sit up, pausing for a moment when his vision swam and his brain flopped around his skull like a dying Nyarlagroth. “Nari, this isn’t your fault. I just....It’s hard to make ends meet, that’s all.”

“You came here because of me,” she argued quietly, still refusing to look at him. “Because you thought I would be safe here.”

“I....Yeah. But it’s not your fault the rent’s so high. ‘M fine, I just need to sleep.” He shooed Archie off his lap and somehow managed to get to his feet, though the world spun around him and his knees wobbled like jello. Nari reached out to help him, but he ignored her offer (it wasn’t like she could provide much support, seeing as she only came up to his waist), and stumbled over to the mattress on the floor in the corner, falling onto it with a rough sigh.

“Your shoes are still on,” Archie informed him, coming to sit by his head. Douxie hummed noncommittally and did nothing. A moment later, he felt Nari untangling the laces of his hightops and sliding them off of his feet. Archie curled up in the crook of his shoulder, his purring filling the wizard’s ears and silencing his disjointed thoughts. Nari draped a blanket over him, pausing for a moment to rest her small hand on top of his uncombed hair. He felt her thumb rub a few circles against his scalp before she pulled away and stood up to return to her own bed on the other side of the room. Douxie was asleep before she’d even crossed the floor.

*****

Douxie found his eyes opening twenty minutes before his phone alarm was set to go off. He felt oddly rejuvenated for someone who had worked himself to the bone yesterday and only fallen into bed at quarter past two. He double checked the time on his phone, wondering if he’d somehow slept through his alarm. 6:13 am. He rolled out of bed, careful not to disturb Archie, who was sprawled out next to him, paws twitching as he dreamed. He glanced over at Nari, who was barely visible within a tightly-wound cocoon of blankets, her antlers the only easily distinguishable part of her. He could sense her aura, but it was dim, and scarcely pulsing, which meant she was quite sound asleep. Satisfied with the knowledge that his family was comfortable and at peace for the moment, he slipped out onto the tiny balcony, shivering as the cold embraced him. He left the door ajar a few inches in case Archie woke up and decided to join him, and zipped up his rumpled hoodie, before casting a glance around him.

The sky was a silvery grey, and he knew that the sun was peeking over the horizon at his back. The balcony faced west, and had a less-than-stunning view of a dank alleyway. It was barely wide enough for three people, and nearly half of it was occupied by Nari’s rapidly growing collection of houseplants and herbs. Douxie sat on the floor, crossing his legs beneath him, and leaned back against the brick wall of the apartment building. He gazed up at the slowly lightening sky, mind curiously blank, though not for want of energy. There was something about the stillness of the early morning that put him in a state of silence. Almost as though he were listening for something.

Or someone.

His heart twisted sharply in his chest, and for once, he let himself acknowledge it. He’d spent many early mornings like this in Camelot, perched on a battlement, watching the sunrise, waiting for the sound of his master calling him to his chores. Back then, he had dreaded hearing Merlin’s voice, knowing that it would be the end of the brief momentary peace he had carved for himself from the stillness of the morning. But now....Now he’d give anything to hear his master calling his name again.

Something pressed up against his knee, and he looked down to find Archie’s bespectacled gaze meeting his own. Without a word, Douxie opened his arms and let his Familiar settle into place on his lap. Douxie wrapped him up in his arms, clinging to his presence, suddenly acutely aware of how much his heart was aching, and Archie purred in understanding. The cat was warm against his chest, a physical reminder that although he had lost a great deal these many years, he wasn’t alone.

The door creaked, and Douxie looked up to find a very sleepy-looking Nari stepping out to join them.

“You’ll catch a cold out here,” Douxie scolded wearily, taking note of her bare arms and legs. She responded with a disinterested hum and rubbed one of her eyes blearily. Douxie sighed and held out an arm to her. She flopped down next to him and curled up against his side, one hand coming to rest above his heart, feeling his magic swirling and pulsing within.

“Your aura was twisting. You were sad,” she mumbled as he tucked her closer with his arm.

“...Maybe a little,” Douxie admitted. “I didn’t think you could feel that in your sleep.”

“Never try to hide anything from an ancient sorceress,” Archie advised from his place on Douxie’s lap. “Especially one who likes you.” Douxie breathed a quiet chuckle and gave his Familiar a scratch behind the ears. There was a moment of companionable silence between the three of them.

“...You enchanted my sleep, didn’t you?” Douxie said suddenly, looking down at Nari. She shifted, almost guiltily, and nodded.

“She does that several times a week, actually,” Archie put in. Nari opened her eyes long enough to send him the most resentful glare she could muster.

“Tattletale,” she muttered. The cat merely shrugged.

“...Thank you,” Douxie murmured. “I don’t think I could’ve survived this past month without either of you.”

“We’re going to be okay, Douxie,” Nari said through a yawn. “I believe in you. You’ll find a better job soon, and the Order will never find us.”

“You think?” Douxie asked lightly. The wood nymph nodded sleepily against his chest. “Well, I suppose there’s no arguing with you, is there?” He squeezed her shoulder fondly.

“You argue with me all the time,” Archie pointed out, turning a few circles and settling more comfortably on Douxie’s crossed legs. “If I were any less gracious, I might accuse you of playing favorites.”

“Oh, I do play favorites, Archie. You’re my favorite person to argue with.” Archie huffed and flicked his tail, but Douxie knew he was smiling without having to look.

The mage held his small family close, staring up at the sky that was turning more blue with every passing minute, no longer feeling the pervading chill. He couldn’t say what the future would bring. He couldn’t promise that everything would work out. But he did know, beyond the slightest shadow of a doubt, that he would fight to save the world a hundred times over, work himself until he was nothing but skin and bone, if it meant he could have more moments like this.

#tales of arcadia #toa #wizards: tales of arcadia #wizards: toa #fanfiction #self-indulgent fluff #found family #the bean goddess is a good little sister

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