#like yes it IS a story driven au but i do not want to write it and the next option is like. short comics of little snippets of it which is | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

shintin · 10 months

Text

Glory-Hole

↳ Vash the Stampede x Female Reader

One-shot (A cut from Gunpowder Dreams fic)

Summary: Trapped in a mafia's clutches, you embark on a daring escape from the relentless grip of Vash, the enigmatic boss. However, freedom comes at a price as you face the unforgiving consequences of your defiance. In this thrilling tale of survival, navigate a treacherous world where alliances shift, and shadows hold secrets. Can you outwit the formidable Vash and break free, or will you succumb to the merciless retribution that awaits?

(For more details, read the original story linked above.)

Word count: +6 k.

Genre: explicit smut (Mafia au).

Warnings/Tags: +18, NSFW, Alternative Universe/Modern Setting, no spoilers from manga and anime, dominate Vash the Stampede, dub-con, toxicity, gunplay, manhandling, unprotected sex, biting, etc.

Notes: I just wanted to write gunplay smut.

Disclaimer: The gunplay scene is inspired by the books I've read.

Song Recommendation: Nancy Sinatra - Bang Bang

You can read my fics on AO3 and Wattpad. If you have any questions, don’t be shy and ASK. This is my DISCORD account, in case you want to contact me.

Back to the master list.

As you sat motionless, a realization gripped you: escape from this house was an unattainable feat. He was smart, but the scariest part was your inability to anticipate a single one of his thoughts. You felt like a dumb rabbit while he, as cunning as a fox, remained one step ahead.

"You're not touching me," you hissed, your voice wobbly and rife with unshed tears.

"What you gonna do if I do?" He directed his gaze toward the ceiling and the pipes. "I'm glad it's the dead of night, and this room is almost soundproof. So, you won't disturb anyone's peaceful slumber."

Driven by instinct, fear propelled you to your feet as you hurriedly made your way to the door, frantically grasping the handle and repeatedly tugging it up and down.

Open!

Please, open!

As you wrestled with the doorknob, attempting to force it open, a sturdy steel arm suddenly encircled your waist and lifted you off the ground.

"NO!" A piercing scream erupted from your lips as you kicked futilely at the space, fiercely resisting his grip.

"Oh, yes, love," he growled, swinging your body towards the wall.

You grunted from the impact, leaning your back against the wall; this time, you used it as leverage to kick against the bastard of a man. "Let me go, you fucking creepy-ass fuck—"

"Keep talking, and you'll just make it worse."

You screeched, out of breath and growing weaker, as he pinned your flailing body against the wall, rendering you powerless.

"We had a deal, didn't we?" Vash asked in a panting tone.

A tear spilt over your lid. And then another and another until you were on the verge of sobbing again. "We had, but—"

"Don't cry, love," he cooed. "It's going to get so much worse."

His breath skated over your cheek as he pressed himself further into your body, just like in the previous encounter. Towering over you, his larger frame enveloped you completely until all you could see, feel, and smell was him—his warmth, the distinctive scent that was uniquely his, and the way his black-clad body surrounded you.

"I like you scared," he whispered, sending shivers down your core. "I like you begging and pleading. Crying out for imaginary Gods to save you."

You felt the touch of leather on your face, and you flinched away. His fingers delicately traced a path from your cheekbone to your hair, gently tucking stray strands behind your ear. "I like you trembling beneath my touch, uncontrollably."

"You're sick," you snapped, doing just that. You were shaking from head to toe, and you couldn't seem to stop it.

“You think your pleas will only arise when your life is at stake, but you are mistaken," he grunted, letting out a deep, mocking laugh. "In due time, you will beg for my touch, craving it desperately."

"That'll never happen," you hissed, glaring at him with all your might. Or at least you thought you were. The dim light emanating from the ceiling lights shadowed his eyes. It felt almost like being far-sighted. Your face was so close to something, but clarity evaded you. The shadows were a part of him. He carried them around.

"It's time to punish you, and I've thought of the many ways I could do this," he said, ignoring your jab. It only infuriated you more that he found your lack of consent so inconsequential. So… worthless. "I'll be nice this time." You opened your mouth, but he cut you off with a deep growl of warning, "But only if you reciprocate, love."

Your teeth audibly snapped together, the sound punctuating the air and drawing yet another amused grunt from him. Your pride took a hit, and you wanted to knee him in the balls for it, but you couldn't lift your leg an inch as you tried.

"You freak! What are you going to do?" you spat out, the stutter of your words in sync with the beat of your heart. His searing breath brushed against your cheek as you felt the gentle glide of his lips tracing along your jawline. You swallowed but nearly choked from how dry your throat had become. Those lips descend to the column of your neck, skittering along until he paused on the spot right below your ear.

"I'm gonna play with my toy," he declared right before his teeth clamped down. Your back arched involuntarily, repulsion and pleasure marrying in your nerves, sending misfires to your brain. All coherent thoughts escaped from your mind, leaving behind only primal instincts to guide your actions.

But, somehow, as if he was electrocuted, he distanced himself. His gaze shifted downwards towards the collar of his shirt. The cross was there, concealed on his chest. His eyes changed momentarily, remorseful, maybe disgusted by what he had become. As if he was lost, struggling to find himself, but instead, his eyes found you—the one with the answers.

You wished you could show him hatred, but seeing your pleasure, he groaned, his teeth piercing as his tongue lapped at your flesh. Your mouth opened, and a silent scream suctioned away just as his mouth did the same, drawing in deep like he was drinking the essence from your body. And then, with a lingering sensation of pain, he withdrew, his teeth grazing your skin as he released his hold, leaving behind a stinging reminder.

Your hands pressed into his chest for stability or to push him away. You were not sure. Though your question was quickly answered when instinct coerced your hands to curl, gripping his shirt tight and anchoring yourself to him as if he was your lifeline. When in reality, he was the one killing you.

Severe shivers wracked your body when he licked a wet path with his tongue, descending from your neck towards the juncture where your nipples resided. He paused, and it felt as if your body teetered precariously over a sharpened blade. You held your breath, the anticipation rattling your bones. And then he was biting down again, pulling an animalistic sound from your chest. He did this, over and over, leaving behind a trail of bruises that marked his territory along your neck and across your shoulder.

You were breathless by the time he pulled away. "Good girl," he finally exhaled, his own voice airy. Somehow, that made you feel worse. You wanted him to hate it as much as you should've. "You like this, don't you?"

"I…ah," you panted, trying hard to conceal the depths of your desires because you were revealing more and more as he went further. You were fucking seconds away from reaching out and grabbing his cock through his pants and begging him to fuck you since you hadn't been touched by a human for a long time, let alone a man, and this thing in front of you had the power to make you momentarily forget everything, despite being the very reason for your need to escape reality. Then something occurred to your mind.

You couldn't explain why you did what you did next. You would ask Gods later. But at that moment, you were so overcome with a tsunami of emotions that you reached up and bit his tattooed neck. Hard, and you didn't care, just bit harder. Maybe you wanted to hurt him back, give him a taste of his own medicine, make him feel whatever you felt.

Regardless of the reason, he didn't take kindly to it. His hand wrapped around your throat, exerting pressure as he forcefully pushed you back, simultaneously tearing himself away from your body. He was squeezing tightly, but you couldn't care less. You felt justified. If he killed you here and now, at least you could say you left one last mark on him.

He growled low, a sound of frustration and an unnamed emotion that eluded definition. "I'm beginning to think you like to be punished, which means I'm just going to have to do better."

Before you could react, he hoisted you up, effortlessly tossing you over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes.

"Fucker!" you snapped, your fists pounding against his back as you thrashed your exposed legs. You were not a potato.

A sharp smack to your ass was his only response. "Love, the wind can do more harm than what you're doing."

"Want to see my teeth again, asshole? I'll sure to grab your ugly face this time."

"Keep telling yourself that, but deep down, we both know this face is making you wet," he retorted, amusement coloring his words. Snarling, you resented his fucking unruffled calm. And because he was not entirely wrong. No, dumbass, he was wrong. He must be wrong.

More curses flooded out of your mouth, but they were cut short when he dragged your body down his front until your legs were wrapped around his waist, and he was cradling you to his chest. Oh, fuck this. You lifted your hands to scratch his face, maybe do a little eye-gouging, but instead, you just squealed. He swooped you backward, your stomach bottoming out as he set you on the bed, flat on your back. Your robe came undone, leaving you inadequately covered when he hovered over you, his arms positioned on either side of your head as he braced himself over you. You swallowed, tears pricking your eyes. "What a gentleman! Letting me look at your obnoxious face as you murder me," you mouthed off, forcing the words through your tightened throat.

You really needed to shut the fuck up. But you couldn't seem to stop yourself. Apparently, when you were in a life-threatening situation, all you could manage to do was make it worse. While some might perceive it as fearlessness, you could only assume it as an act of sheer stupidity.

Balancing himself with one hand, he reached behind him with the other. As you prepared to unleash more insults from your mouth, his arm emerged, revealing a tightly gripped gun.

Another audible tick of your teeth later, you were back to being choked silent with fear.

"I told you not to run away. I told you to follow the orders," he stated, his tone bled dry of emotion. "Typically, I would choose to crack open your skull and forcibly implant the words in your brain, but it seems you require a different method to learn your lesson."

"Okay, I'm sorry," you rushed out, your eyes widening as he pointed the gun at your chest. "I-I'm really, rea—"

"Shh," he hushed. "You're not sorry yet, love. But you will be."

A myriad of thoughts ran through your head on what you could possibly say to get out of this. You were sorry clearly, wasn't good enough. "You're going to shoot me?"

Your bladder threatened to explode, and knowing that you might die in a puddle of pee brought tears to your eyes. A bewildering cocktail of emotions engulfed you. Fear had gripped you tightly, its icy tendrils coiling around your heart, as you found yourself trapped in this fucked up situation. Yet, amidst the suffocating grip of fear, there was a grotesque sense of fascination. You couldn't deny the perverse allure that came with the feeling of being trapped, as if a part of you savored being confined, even as it elicited a thrilling sensation. WHAT? What the fuck was wrong with you?

"You gonna taste this gun one way or another," he responded, his tone dripping with impatience. He punctuated his response by dragging the gun down through the valley of your breasts. The weapon continued its way down your stomach, stopping at the edge of your robe's tie. "Will you take the bullet or the gun?" As he inclined his head, his neck tattoos stretched, emphasizing the presence of the pulsating veins that wound their way towards his enigmatic mind. Meanwhile, the small golden loop on his left ear playfully winked at you while he patiently awaited her response.

"Are you fucking serious?" you panicked, your hands gripping the ends of the tie tightly, the fabric moist with sweat. He must be kidding, right?

"I was going to take it easy on you, but when you act like a rabid puppy, you leave me with no choice but to tame you," he said, tracing the tip of his gun along the edges of the robe. "This is your last chance, or I'll do as I see fit."

Your lip trembled, and a single tear slid down your temple. "Please, don't do this."

He cocked a brow, and the act was damning. He appeared so damn unimpressed with your pleas, causing another tear to trace the path of the first. You had to survive, didn't you? You had to endure long enough to witness this man's demise with your own eyes, didn't you? It couldn't hurt that much, could it? Just focus on counting, fixating your gaze upon the cracks in the wall, and listening to the faint chirping of crickets emanating from the pipes.

You gulped and answered, "I-I'll…"

"You'll what? I need you to be loud and clear."

"Y-your…your gun…" you stuttered, words all dropping dead on your dry tongue.

"What about my gun?" he inquired, sliding the weapon beneath the tobe and directing it towards your bellbottoms. " Say it, love. Utilize that sharp tongue of yours that knows how to hurl curses."

With your eyes tightly shut, you released your grip on the tie, your hands trembling. "I... I'll... I'll take the gun."

"Take off your robe," he ordered, moving back a little. "Now!"

Sniffing, you finally listened. Hooking your thumbs into the robe's belt, you undid the tie. You fought the urge to cover yourself. Because you knew that the act of hiding would bring him greater delight than being almost entirely naked before him. He dug the thrill of conquering through struggle, and you were determined to deny him that win. You were only able to slide it a little before the muzzle of the gun got in the way.

He took the hint, grabbed the robe, and harshly moved it aside. More tears followed suit as you stuck your thighs together.

"Open your eyes and look at me."

You did as he said; your gaze got tied with his. Yet, as you stared into his eyes, you noticed something unexpected. No hatred, resentment, or even lust reflected in them. Instead, it was a vacant look devoid of any deeper meaning. It dawned on you that violence was his only language, his sole response to the world around him. He had not learned any other way to navigate life. Perhaps the only bright spot in his existence had been his beloved, cruelly taken away.

Maybe, but maybe in a parallel world, you thought, he could have been a different person—a better person, surrounded by love and family. In that alternate reality, you might have looked at him with a second glance, for his eyes, the deep azure pools, his lips, and his face were reminiscent of something celestial, qualities that angels themselves would possess, not those cast out from heaven.

Vash's touch shocked you back to reality, causing you to startle, as if you were about to leap out of your own skin. You had to beg your bones to stop shaking.

"Next, your hands," he commanded, jerking his gun to emphasize his directive. Reluctantly, you moved your arms away from your body and let them drop onto the sheets with a huff.

"Stunning," he murmured, his eyes tracing over the curves of your body. He leaned over you again, his mouth kissing the last bruise he left on your shoulder. "Do you know what these mean?" he whispered, pressing another gentle kiss to a different spot on your skin.

You shuddered beneath his touch, electricity sprouting from the point of contact and dancing across your skin. You didn't answer, but he didn't seem to mind. "Those marks," he stated with a sense of ownership, "signify that you belong to me."

The tip of his tongue darted out, trailing your flesh as he moved down towards your breasts.

"Don't—"

His teeth pierced the nipple of your left breast before you could finish your futile plea. You gasped, squeezing your eyes shut as he left another mark on your skin. "Now, whenever you see these, you'll remember me," he said, claiming your body for his own.

Once satisfied, he moved to the other nipple, leaving his own hickeys on your it. And all you could do was just take it.

When your body was well and abused by his teeth and tongue, he lifted and forced your thighs apart. You strained against him, but it only hurt you in the end. He was too strong. With a firm grip on your waist, his clothed forefinger traced the delicate crease of your groin, starting from the juncture of your thigh and trailing downward towards the very center of your being.

Before his finger reached your clit, he tantalizingly ran it up and down your engorged vulva, coming perilously close to your pussy. The sensations were overwhelming, and you felt deeply ashamed as you realized your body was responding to his touch. You wanted to cover your face because you knew he was feeling your body's betrayal.

"You're drenched," he rasped out, his lips still wet from his saliva. The sweet Vash with kind eyes had vanished entirely.

"That's called discharge! Your stupid ass wouldn't know that!" you snapped, hoping your lie would shoo him away.

He responded with a smile. "As much as I hate to say this to you, I'm no stranger to a woman's pussy and what it feels like when it weeps for me."

Your eyes widened. So this fucker had slept with women too? It seemed he had explored every possible avenue. Disgust curled your lip as you retorted, "Last time I checked, most girls weep because they're upset. Maybe you should take a hint."

He let out a chuckle. "Love, that's exactly what I'm doing."

With a firm grip, he spread your legs apart, baring your pussy to him, where the arousal glistened from within. He muttered a curse under his breath as his eyes hungrily devoured every detail of your being. Another tremble of your lips had you biting down on the traitorous flesh.

With one finger still positioned on your pussy, he raised the gun to your face with his other hand. You flinched back, squeezing your eyes shut and letting loose a startled yelp. "Calm down," he reassured you, his tone strained. "I just want you to suck it."

It took several seconds for his words to register. To process that he didn't pull the trigger and you were not dead. As the comprehension dawned, your eyes flew open, and you shot him a fierce glare. "Why the hell—"

He tapped the gun's tip against your mouth, effectively cutting you off. The remainder of your words dissipated into thin air as he glided the gun across your lips, almost as if he was painting them with lipstick.

"Suck," he ordered, his tone deepening with finality. Closing your eyes against more tears, you opened your mouth and obediently opened your mouth, allowing him to guide the gun between your teeth. You squeezed your lids tighter as you twirled your tongue over the cold metal, cringing from the nasty taste.

"My good girl," he said, pulling the dripping gun out, a trail of saliva following until it snapped.

Your entire body locked when the cool metal slid against your clit. You flinched against the foreign touch of an incredibly dangerous weapon. A wave of pure terror washed over you, and it took all your strength to keep from full-on sobbing.

Holding a gun to your head was far less intimidating than it being held between your legs. A gunshot to the head would bring instant death, but this? This would be slow and painful. Torturous.

He leaned in, close enough for his warm breath to caress your core. You raised yourself, yearning for a clearer view. At that moment, he met your gaze, peering up at you through his long, thick lashes, his perfect blue eyes sparkling with delight.

As you parted your lips to question what he was doing, he stuck out his tongue, saliva pooling to the tip and dripping off onto your pussy.

"Seems like you can never be too wet, can you, love?" Sitting up, he traced circles around your entrance with the gun, the metal slipping against your skin.

What if he shoots you mistakenly?

"Oh, my God, please do—" This time, your words were cut off as he pressed the gun past your folds. Just the tip, but enough to close your throat, only allowing a startled squeak to escape.

He laughed cruelly. "Don't hold back. Moan if you want."

You'd snap at him if you weren't frozen solid. You couldn't look away. Helplessly, you just watched him push the gun inside you, your rounded eyes barely processing what you saw and felt. Everything so fucking surreal.

Slowly, he worked the gun inside you, eliciting both pleasure and pain. You clenched your jaw, shuddering from his ministrations but refusing to make a sound. You were determined not to grant him the satisfaction.

He gradually worked the weapon halfway in before retracting it to the very tip, granting you a brief moment to catch your breath. However, that respite was short-lived as he buried the entire barrel deep within you. Your hands clenched the sheets as you sucked in a sharp gasp and let your head fall back, unable to bear witness any longer, drained of the strength to endure the sight.

This was so, so fucked up. Beyond fucked up.

As the gun pulled back and penetrated you once more, a noise did slip through as a wave of pleasure rocked through you. FUCK!

"Good girl," he breathed. "Now open wider, love." His free hand nudged against your thigh. Without a thought, your thighs instinctively parted further. Another praise, but you barely heard it over the beating of your heart.

"I can feel how tight your pussy is. The way it clings to my gun when I slide it out—exquisite."

You bit your lip, but it wasn't enough to hold in the forthcoming moan. Or the one after that. You could hear the suctioning and slurping noises as he fucked you with his gun, and shame filled you in response. The embarrassment nearly overrode the fear. But neither was more potent than the pleasure your body was compelled to submit to.

When he angled the gun in a particular way, he hit the spot inside you that sent your eyes to the back of your head and an unchecked moan to slip free. He growled in response, further fueling your arousal. Your back arched as he skillfully continued to target and stimulate that pleasurable area.

Your hole grew impossibly tight, biting into the gun barrel when his gloved hand gripped your thigh in a bruising hold. Your heart jumped when he leaned closer but only clamped his teeth onto your inner thigh. You cried out from the sharp bite, but it quickly morphed into a moan, sending waves of ecstasy coursing through your body as he hit that spot again.

His mouth sucked your thigh, and his movements quickened until you felt the familiar stirrings of an impending orgasm settled low in the pit of your stomach.

"Please," you begged but didn't know what for. He relented, briefly tearing his mouth away, only to clamp down again, this time lower but still frustratingly distant from your center. Too far away. Sadly far away.

"Tell me what you learned, love," he demanded, looking up at you, his mouth wet from his biting. The sight made your heart drop deep into your belly, right to where the gun was driving into you.

"Not to bite you?" you guessed, your voice trembling as if you were high. He answered by biting your thigh in a punishing grip. You cried out, the pain blinding. He loosened his jaw, allowing the pain to blend with pleasure.

A primal, guttural sound slipped out as he thrust the gun deep. "Are you going to make me ask again?"

You opened your mouth, but no answer came out. Your silence allowed you to hear his warning loud and clear. He cocked the gun.

"Okay, okay, fuck," you relented with a terrified hush. "I-I learned not to run away from my cage." Those words brought tears to your eyes because uttering them aloud made you feel truly trapped by this man.

"Who owns your life, love?"

You closed your eyes, resenting the lie on the tip of your tongue, ready to spill forth just like the tears streaming down your face. "You," you whispered, the bitter taste of the words clogging your throat.

A battlefield raged in your body.

One part of you craved his touch, longing for him to make you come. Meanwhile, another part of you harbored a dark desire, wishing for him to turn the gun upon himself and fire it.

You glanced downwards at him and noted how he was staring at you. And you had the terrifying realization that he saw through your deceit and didn't believe your lies.

"You have ten more seconds to come, love. No more chances after that," he warned before nipping at your thigh again. "Rub your clit."

You hesitated. The last thing you wanted to do was allow this man the satisfaction of making you come and, even worse, helping him do it. In your mind, he didn't fucking deserve it. And though your body was strung tight with desperation for release, your mind rebelled against the idea.

"Now," he shouted, his eyes blazing with something carnal and dangerous.

Muttering a curse, you reached down and twirled your fingers over your clit, too scared of the potential consequences. If it was between orgasming and getting shot, you were going to have to choose the option that would cause the least damage.

"Good girl," he whispered. It took two more thrusts of the gun before you were propelled over the edge, your ass shooting clear off the ground as the orgasm ripped through you. You were screaming. You could feel the sound vibrating the muscles in your throat and turning it increasingly hoarse. But you couldn't hear it. Not when your entire being was consumed in fire and ice, and you could only see a blissful heaven.

The gun worked inside of you faster and deeper, drawing out the orgasm until you were literally begging for it to come to an end. He ripped the weapon out of you, and your thighs snapped shut instantly, sealing off the remnants of your shameful orgasm.

You were left a shuddering mess from the aftershocks as the waves of pleasure subsided. Meanwhile, his body towered over you. Through your half-lidded eyes, still jerking from the little shocks, you glanced up and met his gaze. His face broke into the broadest smile you had ever seen on his face, and you noticed he had dimples.

He had fucking dimples.

He was easily the most beautiful thing you'd ever seen. And you wished you'd never seen it. Because something inside your heart was being torn apart, and it felt like fear, it tasted like panic, and you didn't know how to understand the image in front of you.

You didn't want to see Vash like this. You vehemently refused to perceive him as anything other than a monster. This wasn't right. Your body was full of rage, humiliation, and shame—you knew this. But it was like your brain couldn't process those emotions, so it was just choosing to feel nothing at all. Was this what trauma did? Knowing that you had been violated, yet your body opting for a state of numbness instead?

The silver cross sprung from his shirt, diverting your gaze to the scar it adorned. "Lick this clean," he said, placing his gun onto your bared breast. "I can't use this when it's dripping your cum."

Like a magic trick, he pulled his body back, and every heat you had in your veins disappeared. With one last lingering look, he stood up and turned his back to you, his hands probably adjusting his pants. Then he began to walk leisurely toward the wall, floorboards creaking beneath his weight. Not even a passing glance was spared in your direction. Probably you didn't exist for him anymore. He had taken what he wanted, reducing you to nothingness.

Men.

As he neared the worn-out brick wall, his hand delved into his pocket, retrieving a cigarette. With practiced precision, he placed it in the corner of his mouth. His fingers trembled as he reached for his lighter, or perhaps it was merely a figment of your imagination. Anyhow, he poised himself to ignite the flame, preparing to immerse himself in the disgusting cloud of smoke that would soon envelop him.

You moved without thinking, your hand wrapping around the sticky gun. You would never lick this shit. You stood on your feet, not caring about covering yourself. The second he realized what you'd done, he backed away, raising his hands in surrender—the stupid cigarette dangling between his lips.

You pointed the gun right at his fucking head, and all you wanted to do was blow it off. All you wanted to see was his brain exploding beneath the bullet. Because you were not looking into the face of the man who could easily steal your heart under different circumstances. You didn't see him at all. You only saw a faceless man who took what he wanted from you, and you let him. But now you wanted him to fucking burn for it.

Tears built in your eyes, your vision blurring. The gun was vibrating from how hard your hand trembled, but he stood close enough that you'd strike accurately. Whether the bullet hit his head, his throat, or his chest, you didn't care.

"Love," he whispered.

You squeezed your eyes shut, forcing the sweet but stupid, stupid and stupid whisper out of your head. You didn't want to hear it.

"I haven't done anything to you." You voice cracked. "How can you hurt me like this?" Your eyes burned from the tears welling up. And within seconds, they spilt, running down your cheeks. It seemed like orgasm had pushed your feelings out with itself.

And he seemed to realize it too because a subtle change reflected in his eyes. "I asked you to stay away from trouble," he murmured, his voice so soft. "Why don't you listen to me?" He bared his teeth, his own ire flashing in his eyes. "Do you think I enjoy hurting you?"

"I do!" you shouted, thrusting the gun at him. You sucked in a sharp breath as a sob climbed up your throat. He nodded slowly, a glimmer of understanding replacing the anger that had once flamed in his eyes.

Deep down, you knew better. You knew he wasn't angry with you. He was angry because he was helpless. Hopeless. A goddamn lost cause. Because he would never be the same, and he knew that. But what he didn't know was what to do with it.

A sob escaped your throat, but the rage persisted. He slowly stepped towards you, like approaching a frightened animal with vicious teeth. His eyes didn't stray from yours as he advanced, and you were so close to slipping back into that paralyzing hold he had on you. Then he was right before you again, pressing his lips into the gun barrel.

"Does this make you feel powerful?" he murmured.

Another sob broke free, but you didn't lower the weapon.

"Does this make you feel free?"

You scowled but couldn't muster the courage to respond. You couldn't articulate what it made you feel—you just knew it made you feel something. You stared at the gun in your hand, at the smooth, heavy metal, and you were surprised to find that you enjoyed the way it nestled within your grip, like an extension of your body. It didn't frighten you anymore.

You could stand still in this moment forever.

"What you seem to have forgotten," he snarled, "is that I am already a dead man. I died months ago. So go ahead, pull that trigger, love. End the remaining fragments of my existence. I am nothing but a hollow vessel."

You broke and screwed your eyes shut against the flood of tears, but it was like putting a flimsy piece of paper over a bursting pipe. Agony etched across your face, consuming you completely. "I don't want to be here," you choked out, barely getting the words out before a gut-wrenching sob tore through your trembling lips.

"Let me help you—fuck love, just fucking kill me," he bit, his voice breaking. He opened his mouth, and the barrel slid in. His lips tightly closed around the gun, his eyes staring at you, begging you.

Pull the trigger.

It wasn't fair, but it was becoming harder and harder to look at Vash and blame him, too. You were beginning to revert to that weak, thoughtful part of yourself that was convinced your life wouldn't be such a goddamn shitshow if your father didn't come barreling into it.

But no! You would no longer let your emotions get in the way. You were supposed to play this game by its own rules. So if it were your turn to shoot, you would do it.

No hesitating. No understanding. Just pulling this little trigger.

Click.

To your dismay, there was only a vacant stillness, a blackhole that swallowed your hopes and replaced them with a rising tide of unease. Your chest resonated with the thunderous cadence of your own heart, the loud thud filling your ears as you refused to accept the defeat. Ignoring the gnawing doubts gnarling at your mind, you pulled the trigger again and again and again.

Click. Click. Click.

The sound of the emptiness mocked your growing desperation.

A cold sweat bead on your brow as you stumbled backward, your body shaking with disbelief. Your eyes widened in horror as you stared at the gun, and when your gaze met his face, your world unraveled further into a maelstrom of darkness. His lips contorted into a wicked grin, now devoid of the innocence and sadness he pretended to have. The sight sent a tremor scurrying up your soul, your skin prickling with a nauseating blend of aversion and revulsion.

"You taste fantastic, love" Vash's voice slithered with a perverse delight as he savored the moment, his tongue caressing his lips in a vile display. His hands, tainted with malice, raked through his disheveled hair. Then with an ear-splitting crack, he twisted his neck, relishing in the discomfort he inflicted upon himself. "You hate me enough to try pulling the trigger four times?"

Your blood ran icy as his words seeped into your consciousness, a sting as bitter as poison. Suffocating the room, his laughter took on a haunting quality, a symphony of evilness. Each note of his amusement revealed the true nature of his depravity, shattering the fragile illusion of triumph you once held.

"Did you really think I'll leave you with a loaded gun?" Then as if to prove how simple-minded you were, he reached into his pocket, extracting the sixth bullet with a perverse flourish. He presented it before you, a diabolical offering that sealed your fate. The weight of that one extra little bullet pressed down upon you, an oppressive force that smothered any remnants of hope.

"Game over," he declared, his voice dripping with finality, each syllable a nail in the coffin of your aspirations. The room contracted around you, a claustrophobic arena that confined you to this sleepless nightmare. "You've got balls."

Your eyes snapped up, your mind working quickly to fit all the pieces together, and he was gaping at you, staring at you in a way that was entirely foreign to you, in a way that said he was utterly, absolutely amazed. You were not sure if he was proud.

But the fact that the gun was empty the whole time was a kick in the gut. No. It was a gun in the cunt.

"It… empty…bullet…" Stuttering, you turned to look at the bed, sheets still wet from your heinous climax, and then yourself, every inch of your body bare to his disgusting gaze.

Fingers coiling like vipers ready to strike, Vash extended his arm, reaching closer to your slumped figure. As his hand reached you, he guided it downward with deliberate precision, his touch a phantom of sweetness. You remained motionless, your body as still as a fragile porcelain doll, your spirit hollowed out by his relentless torment. You offered no resistance, Your limbs heavy with acceptance. It didn't have a meaning anyway. This was his playground, and you were nothing but a worthless pawn.

The room held its breath, like you when you thought his fingers were headed for your hole again, only to find them closing around the gun with an ironclad grip.

He leaned closer to your ear, whispering, "You're far too naïve. I would never take even the slightest risk of losing my favorite toy."

Your eyes got shot closed, your lips pressing on each other as he planted a kiss on your temple and walked out without any more words.

You opened your mouth, and you screamed. You screamed and screamed until your voice cracked beneath the pressure. Until you feared your throat would shred from the force. You wanted to crawl outside of your body so desperately. Just so you could escape this feeling. No. You wanted that gun loaded with bullets to turn it on yourself.

One last shout ripped out of your throat, this one so full of pain that brought you to your knees. You crumbled. The raw sound tapered off, fading into a hoarse, staccato cry. You sucked in a deep breath, filling your lungs with oxygen you didn't want, but you were too lost in your grief to scream like you wanted to.

I know this one-shot kinda doesn't make sense, but I'd be damned if I hadn't done it.

73 notes · View notes

partyanimal167 · 7 months

Text

Paying Back Goodness- Vampire!Miguel x F!Reader

Was this supposed to be just another vampire!Miguel fic during October? Yes.

Is it definitely almost December instead? Also yes.

I need practice writing smut with this man for my other fic, so I'm definitely going to pretend that this came out before that other story lol

cw: modern au, black fem reader, smut, mdni, praise kink, biting (duh), pet names, pussy-drunk Miguel (our favorite munch)

For the life of you, all you wanted to do was rest. Literally. Life was wearing you out, but when a hot stranger needs your help, things somehow get more interesting.

You wanted to get home as soon as possible. You spent the entire day running around for your boss to make sure he didn't miss meetings or forget to send important documents. You didn't see yourself being a secretary, but you took a break from your main career, and this job found you with good benefits and some relief. However, being the workaholic you are, you were just as committed and driven in this job that was only supposed to be a year. Now, it had been two and a half.

It was fine at first. Your first boss was a gentle, sweet old man, but he was replaced a cocky asshole once he retired. You knew that the company was wealthy which meant things needed to be in order, but your boss could totally be tyrant.

You groaned as you turned on your car which beamed with a light stating you needed to get gas. You rested your head on the steering wheel and cursed past-you for being lazy that morning. It didn't matter though. It was Friday, and you actually had the weekend off to disassociate from the grind.

You drove to your favorite gas station nearby and decided to go inside for a snack. It was the normal night commuter crowd who quickly came and went like you planned on. You stood near the register thinking about which candy bar to buy when you heard someone clear their throat in your direction. You turned disinterested but ended up surprised by what you saw.

The man towered over you but looked down softly. He had handsome features: board shoulders, strong-looking arms, high cheek bones. His eyes were gentle as well as his hair that waved at certain points. You gulped quietly.

"I'm sorry to bother you, but I think I left my wallet. Could I trouble you in getting this drink for me?" he scratched his head awkwardly, but the emotion looked cute on him.

You blinked twice then nodded. "Oh yeah sure, no problem." you placed your items on the counter and were in your thoughts. The man was dressed casually, but you were sure it was nice quality stuff. You mean, the situation happens to the best of people, so there was no reason to judge.

"Thank you so much, hermosa. I hope I can pay you back one day." the man smiled. You told him not to worry about it and went your separate ways. He was parked near your car, and you peeked to see how nice of a vehicle it was. You nearly choked. It looked like something that would be driven by your boss' boss. You turned away quickly as you filled your tank. You could hear the sound of an engine starting before a curse and then a door slamming.

You peered up and met the very shy gaze of the man from earlier. "This is really embarrassing, but I seem to be out of gas too..." he trailed off and barely met your eyes.

You just finished filling up, and you smiled to yourself. "Okay then." you walked over to the man's car and inserted your card.

"I'm so sorry. I was in such a rush to leave, and now I'm here bothering a beautiful lady." the man went on.

You coughed at the compliment but tried to play it off. "I get it, but let's just get you home. No point in being stranded. That would suck." you giggled.

The man nodded before searching for a scrap of paper while the tank filled. He fished for a pen before scribbling quickly. "I owe you one. If you ever need anything, anything, don't be afraid to call me please." You looked at the paper and read the name: Miguel O'Hara. Why was that familiar to you? You pocketed the slip and nodded. After insisted that you would call, you two went you separate ways.

You threw on your pajamas and flopped on your bed ready to rest the night away--promptly forgetting about your small act of kindness.

~~~

You were beat.

In the normal chaos of things, you totally forgot about the upcoming fall masquerade that your company was hosting. Thankfully, the event was handled by the marketing department, but you spent hours searching for a dress and mask to wear. You needed to look presentable. Your boss lectured you on who he needed to impress and how you need to find any and all hot gossip about the important business people. It seemed there were some ambitions he wanted to act on.

You didn't really care.

You stared at the garment bag hanging on the back of your bedroom door. You had a couple of hours before you needed to start getting ready, so you pulled out one of your work binders and flipped through the VIP list. You looked lazily at stuffy professional photos, facts on various business adventures, and quirks in people's personal lives. A couple red tabs highlighted your boss' targets, and you tugged on one randomly.

The page showed the strong intimidating face of one Miguel O'Hara. You nearly chocked on nothing. You knew his name was familiar! You were a bit startled by the photo. He looked so serious and commanding--very much the opposite of when you met him randomly at the gas station. The car made a lot more sense now. The man's pockets were deep. You glossed over to the personal facts. Your eyebrow quirked.

There were several bullet points noting how the man was a bit of a recluse, didn't like meetings before 4pm, preferred working at night, etc. He had been a highly sought after businessman for partnerships and investments, but was notorious for wanting all the details and spotting a swindler miles away.

You snorted to yourself. Your boss was going to have to be on top of his shit if he wanted to get away with anything, and you highly doubted that he was.

You hummed to yourself, looking at all the information. It was interesting to see how one's professional life contradicted with the personal. The gas station incident made a little more sense to you now. You wondered what made the man leave his house in the first place. Must have needed something and his staff was away.

You figured it would be easy to spot him later that night. Your boss would be ready to kiss ass and shake hands, so you didn't think you'd have much interaction to mentally prepare for.

Hopefully it would be an easy night.

~~~

"What did you just say?" Despite the mask covering half of your face, you knew that your disbelief was shining through. You were so tempted to kick your shoes off and high-tail out of the gala hall. Be fucking for real.

Your boss scoffed before pinching the bridge of his nose--as if his request was as simple as bringing him another drink. "Please don't be difficult tonight. I hear that O'Hara has been having a bit of a dry spell. If he seems even a little interested in you, pounce on him. Get into his bed if you need to. I'm sure he's got some important information in his home office."

You stared dumbfounded. "I am not fucking him for you! What the hell!"

An eye roll. "Oh please, I'm sure it'd do you some good. You don't have a boyfriend. Plus, I'll give you a raise. You can-," Thankfully, another VIP target appeared to speak with your boss which gave you an opportunity to slip away.

You didn't necessarily hate parties, but this grand showings of your company's wealth was a bit annoying when you felt you could be better compensated for your performance. You grabbed a glass of champagne and walked around a bit--chatting with some co-workers and seeing what little habits the rich and wealthy had. You weren't above knowing a little chisme, just not going to fuck someone for work.

"These things are always a little stuffy." a friendly voice said in your direction.

You didn't turn to see who it was but chuckled a little. "Yeah, but you gotta let the rich people have their fun. Otherwise, they're gonna start torturing poor people again." you kept your eyes on the crowd. Most people you recognized from their files, but despite your boss' wants, you hadn't seen Miguel O'Hara so far. The party had been going around for awhile. You weren't sure if he was going to show up, but that wasn't too much of your concern.

"Mm, that's quite an interesting thought." there was a brief pause, "Well I don't quite find amusement in people's suffering. But sometimes discipline is required--especially when you keep someone waiting." there was some teasing under there, and your brief tipsiness faded when that voice went a little deeper. You turned to face the stranger and softly gasped. "I thought you would have called me by now, Miss y/n."

Somehow seeing him this time, Miguel's presence felt entirely too large as you faced him. He looked down at you confidently, and there was some of that strong demeanor in his eyes. It reminded you of reading his file from earlier. He was definitely in his element here even if he preferred to be at home. You, on the other hand, were not used to high-end parties and social mingling. That's why you were off to the side watching.

Miguel indulged in seeing you decked out in a gown and a lacy mask. Your face was lightly beat, and lips shone in the light. You weren't going overboard like some of the other women there, but it didn't matter. He planned to seek you out after seeing your name as a point of contact for one of rich bastards here.

You took a moment to get your words together. "Ah well, I've been a bit busy...plus I didn't want to bother you."

Miguel grunted. "Wouldn't have been a bother at all. I'm the one who troubled you."

You waved your hand. "Ah well, it's fine really. A simple act of kindness. It's all good." you mumbled a little. There was an amusement in the man's eyes, and they seemed to glow with how his own masked framed his face. "I'm surprised you recognized me..."

A chuckle. "Of course hermosa, how could I forget such a beautiful face? I-,"

And just your luck for your boss to appear. "Ah there you are! Mr. O'Hara, I see you've met my lovely secretary. I hope she's giving you some good company. I'm-," he went on some rant, and you saw this as a chance to try and dip. You did not want your boss getting the wrong idea that you were going along with his shitty plan to seduce Miguel and search his house for whatever blackmail he assumed existed. It did look as though he was paying attention to your boss, so you quietly took a step away.

Immediately, you felt an arm around your waist-- pulling you closer to Miguel. Your faced warmed up. How did he even notice you move?

"Ah yes, I think we have a meeting coming up together soon. I'm interested in the project you proposed." Miguel interrupted the boring ramble. He leaned by your ear for a moment. "Find me on the third balcony in fifteen minutes." he whispered in your ear before letting you go.

You glanced at him then your boss before nodding. Your boss sent an unsubtle glare your way as you walked off.

...

It took an hour before you found yourself alone on the balcony. You took a seat on the sole bench and glanced up at the night sky. You had watched as crowds of people went out of their way to talk to Miguel. From afar, it seemed as though he had such a charismatic control over people. He leaned into it with powerful handshakes and cocky grins.

You were tempted to go home, but then your eyes met his and he winked. You decided to wait a little longer since the man wanted to talk to you.

You sighed after taking off your mask. You fidgeted with the shawl around your shoulders.

"Your boss is pretty shameless." you turned and watched Miguel approached you.

You chuckled before looking back at the sky. "Oh trust me I know. You wouldn't believe what he's asked me to do."

You felt the man stand close behind you. "Oh probably sending out his secretary to tease me." you quickly turned up at him. Miguel had a knowing grin. He licked his lips. "He's going to have to get more creative than that, but," he paused and took in the curious look in your eyes, "I would be tempted since it's you."

Things felt like they were warming up despite the autumn chill. "Excuse me?"

Miguel took a seat right by you, and the closeness wasn't in your favor. "I was hoping to take you out once you called, but that didn't happen." he huffed. "I had to wait to see you at work event. Not so charming."

You scratched your cheek and messed with the shawl again. "Ah well, you don't have to worry about charming me--people!" you corrected quickly. "People are drawn to you."

"Yeah for my money, but I wouldn't mind getting the attention I want for once." he gently reached out and turned your chin so you could properly look at him. "Gosh you look delicious." he groaned. You gasped as a thumb ran over your bottom lip. "Excuse my forwardness, but your sweetness drew me. I just want a little taste." he leaned in, "may I kiss you?"

"Yes." you quietly let out.

There was a shock that ran through you body feeling his lips against yours. You wanted to melt immediately. Yes, the man was attractive, but it was like something was pulling you just from his closeness and attention. You wanted to be greedy and hoard it. It suddenly wasn't enough to be alone with him outside. You feel something a bit pointy graze the skin of your lips, and you opened your eyes to see streaks of red in the man's eyes. Confusion flashed through you though Miguel looked down at you with a gentle fondness and deep hunger.

He slowly licked around what was definitely a fang as he lifted your hand to his lips, kissing it, then placing it on his cheek. "Mmm, you feel so warm too." his voice vibrated through your skin and its sultry tone kept you aroused and intrigued despite the slow growing concern that things were not what they first seemed. Miguel could see it in your eyes--the curiosity just under that cloud of lust. "Oh nena, you're safe with me." another kiss onto your hand, "I just bite a little."

~~~

You didn't question why Miguel had a suite ready at a hotel nearby. You didn't question how he seemed to know where to touch and what to say. You didn't question what he was despite knowing that those fangs were real and how the pieces about him were coming together.

Miguel planned on being on his best behavior originally. He mentally prepared himself to be in the limelight with people flocking towards him on the pretense of business. He only wanted to speak with you originally about a casual coffee date or to ask you why you were working for a scummy boss. (So he looked into your job and company. Don't sue him) However, things were just so tempting seeing how you easily talked with him, how your dress hugged your body and color scheme lit up your eyes, how he could hear your heartbeat increase and watch the slight twitch of your neck.

He lost that battle to tempation.

So Miguel would take you away from the useless mingling and allow the two of you to indulge in one another.

You gasped as you bounced slightly on the bed and propped yourself up to watch the man. He eyed you almost drunkenly as he pulled at his tie and tossed his cufflinks to ground as if they were worthless. You moaned watching him undress himself all the way to his briefs and felt that hazy sensation when you were pulled to the edge of the bed. A leg was raised, and you bit your lip feeling that sharp grazing sweep over your skin. The skin didn't break, but the possibility excited you especially when the truth was becoming clearer. You saw how his eyes glowed in the dark, and you froze with both arousal and anxiety.

Miguel chuckled as he rubbed his face against your leg--kissing right behind your knee. "Mmm, I don't know how I want to taste you first." he muttered half to himself and you. He edged himself more feeling his teeth on you skin. He could sense your excitement. "It won't hurt, nena; I promise. Just want little bite, please." his sweet begging made you clench around nothing, and of course, he saw it. He reached up and dragged your thin underwear off you. He melted at the sight. "So eager to please me. Just want to be a good meal for a vampire like me? Yeah, I know."

You knew. He knew you did, but the confirmation did things to your body. You heaved for air, and body started to squirm for more. It did was so deliciously appealing to know that this man desired you in more ways than one. You spread your other leg quickly for him and whimpered as the air reached your core. "Please," you started off, "I want it."

Miguel chuckled as his hands ran further up than before, your dress pushing up and gathering by your waist. "You want it?" Miguel teased and mimicked you. "You want what baby? You gotta use your words pretty girl. I know you can do it."

But you weren't sure what exactly. Him to fuck you, yes, but how would it feel if he did those other unspoken things he wanted? If he did more than just bite you but truly indulged in your essence? You didn't want to decide just then; either one would be beyond satisfying for sure. You shook your heard--still squirming and panting for more. "Give me whatever." You yelped feeling a slap against your wet cunt.

"Not the right answer. Be specific, dulce." Miguel went on to slowly run his fingers up and watch the slick coat his fingers. He was starting to lose himself more. You smelled sweet and delicious. He hadn't had the temptation to eat in a long time, but after meeting you, he couldn't shake the feeling. He was fighting so hard to be calm, collected. But you were such putty in his hands. He'd give you anything you wanted too.

"I want you to eat me out, sir." you threw the words together, but they seemed to work since Miguel went straight to work--sucking on your clit. He made himself comfortable wrapping his arms around your thighs; there was no way you'd be able to escape if you really wanted to.

He was messy.

If you weren't so caught up in your own pleasure, you'd think about how he seemed to be doing this for himself. The room sounded wet. You went from gripping the sheets to his hair and thrashing up and down--trying to get even closer to that sinful tongue that moved better than you'd ever experience.

Miguel was definitely pleased with himself and your reactions. Your hands gripped his hair once his fangs ever-so gently pressed on your clit. He was drunk off your scent, your sounds, your essence. He wouldn't have minded spending his night here at all really. He's please to devour you in any shape or form.

"Fuck, I'm gonna come." you breath out.

Miguel enjoyed that confession. He didn't let up at all. He lapped his tongue up and down, sucked on your pearl, teased your entrance. Your body trembled and only babbles were coming out. You were submerged in that intense feeling; you thought nothing could top it really...

But then you felt two pricks. And soon you were drowning deeper.

Miguel drinks from your thick thighs. He couldn't help himself. Your enamored expressions from coming pushed him to have you once again--more towards his nature. You were truly filling his being now. His brain was blanking only having that warm, comforting feeling of safety in ecstasy. Your pleasure became his and vice versa. He was lost in the way you accepted him so easily; he hadn't experienced that before.

The man pulled his teeth out and lapped at the bite deliriously. He rested his head on a thigh and enjoyed watching you come down from that consuming experience.

Your lungs finally seemed like they could get enough air, and you blinked away tears--first staring at the dark ceiling then moving your head down to see those glowing red eyes stare up at you--so much reverence and care. It took you by surprise, but you could only moan. Words still failing you.

"You're so beautiful, reina." It wasn't lost to you how he licked around his pink-tinted fangs. He pushed himself up and kissed his way back up. "So delicious, you have to mine." he was nearly pleading. Another kiss on your neck then lips. His eyes were so eager yet soft. He smiled sweetly at you. "Get some rest. I'll see you in the morning."

~~~

Apparently, eights hours was enough time for your world to be turned upside down. While you dreamed of warmth and care, Miguel seemed to have been working to make life a lot easier for you. Breakfast had been ordered. Clothes delivered. And a plan to buy your company, fire your boss, and get you back into your desired profession easily formulated.

You were none the wiser as grapes were gently placed into your mouth even after you insisted that you were fine enough to feed yourself. Miguel wouldn't be having that.

The man was still gorgeous in the soft lights of the hotel room, and it was hard to maintain eye-contact after the night's...festivities. You darted your eyes again, and Miguel chuckled. You looked back. "What?"

Another smile. "Why can't you look at me? Was it too much?" he almost pouted.

You scratched your cheek and fiddled with your hair. "It was amazing...but in my defense, vampires are not common knowledge." you opened your mouth to be fed without hesitation this time.

"Well, we like to keep things that way." he paused for a moment. "And I was wondering..."

The shyness didn't seem like at him at all. You met his eyes though they seemed nervous. "What is it?"

Miguel looked back at you. "I was hoping I could take you out after all of this...maybe some dinner or something." you laughed. "What's so funny!"

You waved your hand. "Nothing. You just showered me in goodness, and you're the one that's shy about me not wanting to see you? I'd be out of my mind." you leaned over and pecked him on the lips. "Guess good deeds to pay off."

I am a sucker for a vampire!Miguel. I want all the sexy, tempting goodness. Help people folks. You never know were it'll get ya 😉

~~~

It took me over a month to get through most of this, but only twenty minutes for the last portion. Writing is weird.

#spiderman #atsv #miguel o'hara #miguel x reader #atsv fanfiction #late halloween post #vampire miguel #black fem reader #modern au #mine #stewie writes #partyanimal167

34 notes · View notes

pensbridgrton · 2 months

Note

I promise I don't mean to insult you or any ill intent, but I read your post about Colin being Penelope's prize and just wanted to say that the moment I saw the S3 plot, I thought it would be a Regency retelling of your fic dress (which I adore and read daily) 🙈 🙈 I know that when Nicola speaks about Polin it might seem that way, but Luke's interviews have me hopeful for good Colin development, and if it's even half like a Regency version of your story I'll be THRILLED. I hope the season leaves us happy :)

Follow up - I know the plot of dress isn't Pen needing lessons to find suitors but anyway okay maybe you're right and my hope for S3 was wistful thinking 🥺 🙈

Now listen - the moment the plot summary was revealed for S3, I kept saying to myself... wait, this is regency Dress! So yes, I do want that to happen really badly.

My problem is, after two seasons of this show, I know what they prioritize and how they tend to structure their writing, and it doesn't align with what I prefer and would like to see. And that's fine, the show has a different tone and purpose and narration that they want to tell. I'm pretty sure it'll be a decent season of television, casuals will eat it up, and I'll have a good time turning off my brain and watch Nicola and Newts kill it.

But I won't love Colin and Penelope in the show as much as their characters in the books (they're already so different and while they have potential to be absolutely excellent, I don't think they will reach that potential for me... especially since it'll require retconning a lot of Colin - or at least providing sneaky flashbacks of him actually being a matchmaker - and a more character-driven arc for Penelope that the show would never do because they are plot-driven). I do think I'll enjoy the show! I just have a gut feeling that Colin's development won't reach nearly the depth of the books (because if they actually kept the jealousy of Pen's legacy plot I would SCREAM in excitement but I doubt it) because again, the show prioritizes scandal and plot - and all of that means focusing on Colin groveling and Penelope being LW.

Having said all of this - I try to keep my expectations very low because both S1 and S2 disappointed me in regards to Penelope/Colin and them as individuals, so it's hard for me to have hope (except when Nic and Newts talk... they're what's keeping me here). But I would LOVE to be wrong and absolutely love everything about S3 and its direction and the depth and care of the arcs presented. But I've accepted that my Modern AU fic is probably gonna be WAY more in character than the show's out-of-character fanfic that emphasizes groveling, spice, and scandal over the growth and imperfections of the book.

But if S3 really is just regency "Dress" I expect royalties.

#polin #bridgerton #sorry ill keep my negativity out of the tag now but yeah #asks #tbh i wouldnt be surprised if pen's name was on the tree instead of colins

17 notes · View notes

trulytiredhermit · 1 year

Note

Your Reader AU has my brain going brrr...though im mostly focused on the crack-ish ones.

This gave me an idea (maybe for a fanfic ill wrote muuuuuch later!) like what if Reader is aware of the Links trying to court them and the second they realize that the Chain likes them romantically, they immediately go cold. What if Reader has a long, long history of bad experience with romance and they're just tired and deadeyed. And when they start noticing the Links going yandere, they just laugh, saying "oh look, something new this time!"

the chain try their best but they're just constantly confirming Reader's worst fears.

*Aw thank you!! And yes the crack-ish ones are the funniest, I love crack AUs lol.

But OOOOF

Hitting 'em where it hurts!

I just KNOW the Chain would take this hard! Because they would have needed to become close to Reader, spent precious time with them and perhaps even shared personal thoughts and fears over their time together.

And then Reader all of a sudden is giving them the cold shoulder and completely shuts down their advances?

Angst town my friend, angst town.

Like Reader just constantly friendzoning them and hoping they get the hint, or dropping off facts about how they have a few bad experiences with past lovers and hoping that gets the hint across.

What it actually does is make the Chain start a hate list with those exes on it in which they may or may not take action upon them.*

But I also think the Chain just wouldn't get it, like they would misread all of Reader's hints that they aren't interested as something else. Their minds just couldn't accept the fact that Reader couldn't be theirs.

Also tag me if you end up writing that fanfic!! I'd love to read it sometime, but no pressure!*

You thought they had finally gotten the hint.

Wild laughed merrily as he recounted a funny story about the time he had tricked a man out of his sand and snow boots, shoving another bowl of warm soup into your still warm hands from just finishing your first bowl.

You passed it back saying you were full already.

Thought they finally decided to back off and leave your friendships the way it was, as just friends.

Time paired you up with him again, giving a curt response about how the inn was short on rooms, sometimes it was that the group just needed to save rupees, and people needed to group up.

You told him you'd just room with Wind then since the young teen wanted to hear another story about your own teenage years full of youthful fun and mischief.

But no.

Sky and Four presented you with an earring they had made together: it was a metallic earing with a red feather hung off the end, crafted just so that the feather was long enough to lightly tickle you cheek and sometimes your neck from time to time.

You haven't worn it once.

They hadn't taken the hint. They've ignored the warning signs. Practically driven over them with a stampeding horse, or a Hinox.

Twilight wrapped his wolf pelt around your form for the tenth time today, reminding you of how cold it was and how he didn't want for you to get sick.

You shrugged it to Wind, reminding Twilight you were fine just like the other nine times he had tried giving you his pelt before.

Just what more did you have to do, what more signals did you need to give them for them to get the hint?!

Hyrule had been hovering over you like a frantic cucco all afternoon, constantly offering to heal you and making sure you were okay after your little trip from a branch on the dirt road.

Once again you showed him the small scratch you had gotten, the one that was already scabbing over, telling him that you were fine, and he should save his energy for an injury that mattered.

You didn't want to sit them all down, outright tell them that you knew what they were all doing and how you wanted it to just stop. So you gave little hints here and there about past relationships that ended not so nicely, about how you were a little wary of dating again.

Wars shooed away a stranger that couldn't get the hint you weren't interested in his advances, wrapping his strong arm around your waist and glaring at the poor sap.

Though your thanks died upon your tongue when the war hero kept his arm there even after the man had left only letting go after you had pried yourself away from his side.

But did they get the fact that you weren't interested with them either? No.

Legend scolded you again, demanding you hand over your favorite shirt that had been slightly damaged by a stray arrow from a bokoblin during a skirmish, so he could fix it up.

Begrudgingly you handed it over, also wanting it to be fixed since it was always so comfy to wear. But you kept an eye on Legend's progress with it and swooped the shirt up with a curt thankyou as soon as he was done with it.

You wouldn't fall for his lies about how he had messed up a stitch or that he wasn't done with the article of clothing like he had done the many other times before.

You knew they were heroes and that maybe they had gotten so used to fixing things or that they just had the sheer will to preserve through all of your shutdowns and mis-directions since they were apparently the bearers of the triforce of courage, but it was getting ridiculous now.

Perhaps you needed to have a straight talk with them, needed to tell them that you weren't interested and that you wanted to just remain friends with them.

After all it's not like you could just up and leave them, as if they would ever allow it. Hyrule, no matter which one you traveled across, was dangerous and you didn't exactly have the survival expertise to even make it a day on your own.

So you just had to deal with the group's antics with the slim hope that they would cool it down after you had a talk with them.

#trulytiredhermit #linked universe #yandere lu x reader #linked universe x reader #neutralvoiceartist #this was fun to write!! I just had to make a little thing to go with it because it made my brain conjure up a ton of situations lol

97 notes · View notes

mrsbsmooth · 1 month

Text

20 questions for fic writers

Thanks for the tag @rebelrayne! @longbobmckenzie tagged me in the body of hers too so I’ll take it.

How many works do you have on ao3?

82 right now, but I’ve orphaned a few recently

What’s your total ao3 word count?

1,220,982. I’ve got about another 30-40k words in WIP documents right now, so almost one-amd-a-quarter million words 😨

What fandoms do you write for?

Love Island the Game, Too Hot to Handle game, Harry Potter (Dramione exclusive), Romance Club (Heaven’s Secret)

Top five fics by Kudos

Tell Me What You Want (HP)

This Time, I’m Serious

Jaded

Unhealthy

Kinktober 2022

TIL that my Harry Potter fic has overtaken TTIS even though TTIS has more hits.

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! There were a few on TTIS I missed that it would be awkward to reply to because it was so long ago, but I make a point of trying to reply to every comment.

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

The only sad ending I’ve ever written was the first chapter of Jaded which was originally done as a oneshot.

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

Probably Welcome To Racers. They got the whole shebang. Love me a happily ever after.

Do you get hate on fics?

Not recently. I’ve had hate for my portrayals of Alex, Lucas, and Suresh. But I haven’t had any nasty anon comments in ages which is lovely.

Do you write smut?

Yeah it's kinda my thing.

Craziest crossover:

I don’t know if I’ve done many crossovers… maybe Bruno and Miri Make a Porno or All I Want for Christmas is You which is a hetero take on Red White and Royal blue?

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not that I know of!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

No but I think I would probably die of happiness.

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

I HAVE! All’s Fair in Casa Amor was written with my beautiful friends @i-boop-you and @crimswnred !!!!!!

All time favourite ship?

Dramione (new fave) but for LITG? Hard question because our fandom is so built around an MC. But with two canon characters? I secretly love a Bruno/Valentina. Also love Hope/Lucas. They just WORK.

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

It’s gotta be Recovery. I have the whole thing planned in my head but I just have no motivation to write it at all. Other than that, I don’t see myself finishing Famous Last Words any time soon. If I was going to finish it I’d take it down and rewrite it to make it fully OF.

What are your writing strengths?

Smut probably, I’m not bad at it. I feel like my narrative pacing is alright, and my prose is decent despite it being really inconsistent.

What are your writing weaknesses?

I rely too much on dialogue. I miss all the little body language bits leading up to an important line that could take it from an ‘aww that’s sad’ to a ‘holy fuck I’m sobbing’. Luckily I have wonderful beta’s who help me with this.

But more than anything, characterisation. Forming a fully fleshed out character before I start the story. I struggle with it. I’ve always felt like I’m more of a storyteller, (a plot person) more than a deep dive into a character’s psyche kind of person. I love reading character driven stories though, but I think it’s something that comes with writing experience. I haven’t actually been writing for that long and I think I’m getting better at it, but it’s still a weak point.

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I sometimes forget that people don’t like this. I LOVE it. I do try and use it sparingly though. It’s so nice to see a character conversing with someone in their native language. I try and put the English dialogue in brackets or italics unless it's rather clear what they're saying (like swearing).

First fandom you wrote in?

LITG

Favourite fic you've written?

I, like Sarah, absolutely hate this question. My fics are my children. I like some of them more than others, though (I never claimed to be the world's best mother). But I love them for different reasons.

I love Welcome to Racers because it was my first AU. I loved The Only Two Things because I got to create an entire world, an entire city for my characters (Yes I'm aware Waterford, Ireland is a real place but God, I loved that story so much). TT,IS was the first fic I started and it gave me the friends I have today and the amount of people who tell me it's S4 canon just makes my whole life. Jaded was something different. It was a challenge to myself and I'm so proud of it. Unhealthy has been the most difficult to write, but it's also pushed me the hardest in my development of characters. FLW has been so much fun because I get to dive back into my music roots, urghhhhhh. Love.

I don't care if it's narcissistic. I re-read my fics on a regular basis. They're perfectly tailored to my taste. I love doing a nice re-read and sprinkling in a few extra details with liberal use of the edit button. If there was someone who knew my fics as well as I did, they'd get something a little bit different on every read. Might just be a line or two, might be a thought or a reaction, but I love to add and tweak and tinker with them all.

Love.

tagging: @i-boop-you @crimswnred @ellegreenwxy @tammyisobsessedwith @operationnope @sparxaf @eskiix

#mbs tag game

15 notes · View notes

aquaquadrant · 2 years

Note

Is it ok if we ask you questions directly? 👉👈 Do you think his other friends have like,, slowly picked up on how touchy he is about blaze farms/his own blaze rods but some of the newer hermits just put it up to (oh well he's a blazeborn of course he feels bad farming blazes!) and don't dig into it any deeper? Does Jimmy ever touch on it, like is it a hard boundary Tango sets or is it sorta unspoken, or does Tango overcompensate and react which brings about a gentle conversation about boundaries since they really can't avoid each other while they're soul mates??? I love all of thr writing you do for hels to pay au!!!!! I love seeing anything from you and also lunarcrown I am so invested in this au!!! 🥺💕

aww hi there!! yes absolutely, @lunarcrown and i share all the asks so it’s fine either way! i’m sort of taking care of the more story-driven stuff? but if y’all ever have art or design related questions then DEF send those over to her (cuz her art is amazing and she deserves the chance to ramble abt it <3)

anyway!! this was a very sweet ask and it really made us think about how tango’s past would affect his current relationships with the hermits and jimmy. suffice to say, a gentle conversation about boundaries is what SHOULD happen, but alas, tango’s coping mechanism is to overcompensate and pretend everything’s fine (can’t show weakness) and he happens to be surrounded by people who respect his decision not to talk about it.

the hermits for the most part don’t even know tango has Issues to this degree. after impulse’s first blaze rod related conversation w tango, he took it upon himself to let the other hermits know (subtly, individually, and in private) that tango seems to have a Thing about blaze farms- which they indeed all assumed was just cuz tango’s a blaze hybrid (impulse wanted to respect tango’s privacy, but he couldn’t just stand by and let a similar thing happen again! he tried to be as vague and delicate as possible, in any case)

as for jimmy… he doesn’t know anything about tango’s past, pre-hermitcraft. tango keeps telling himself he’ll tell jimmy but the thought is just so terrifying; being vulnerable, for one, and then the fear that jimmy will see him differently, and decide he’s not worth loving anymore. in any case, the topic of blaze doesn’t really come up for the ranchers (gotta be insane to go into the nether on double life, and no one’s making blaze rod farms here) so it’s easy enough to avoid.

that doesn’t, however, mean that jimmy never catches on that tango is keeping some pretty heavy stuff bottled up. but tango doesn’t want to talk about it, and jimmy isn’t the kind of person to force him. he just offers steadfast and patient reassurance, in the hopes that tango will feel safe enough to open up to him someday.

(it’d sure be a shame if something happened before then that involuntarily revealed tango’s past in the worst way possible…)

#hermitcraft #double life smp #traffic smp #hels to pay au #tango tek #impulsesv #jimmy solidarity #mcyt #hermitshipping #also y’all have been SO SWEET i’m so happy ppl are enjoying the au!!!#HTP ask

187 notes · View notes

laprimera · 3 months

Text

ABOUT THE MUN - ooo I got tagged ooOooo

what made you pick up the current muse(s) you have?

fixation as soon as the second trailer with her reveal came? Like the little snippets that was known about the game already weaved a pretty intricate (and disproven lol) plot and personality.

Even after everything got debunked I still kept my original lore + now I live and love the idea her ideal, picturesque self is actually a front for how clutzy and forgetful she really is as a super busy champion who's passionate about her region.

is there anything you don’t like to write?

bad/sad unnecessary endings or forks in the road?? I know it's silly in context like "well stories arent all happy-" BUT THIS IS POKEMON AR PEE AND I PARTIALLY CONTROL THE NARATIVE AND I WANT MY PROTAGS TO GO THROUGH IT BUT COME OUT AT THE END GETTING EVERYTHING THEY WANT. IS IT SO BAD I DONT WANT TO PARTICIPATE IN BITTER SADNESS EVEN IN A FANTASY MADE-UP SCENARIO? REALITY IS HELL AS IS I DONT WANNA BE SAD ALL DAY OVER INTERNET BARBIES, I HAVE BILLS AND TAXES TO DO.

so I make sure to plot with long term plot partners so we all get that character growth and exciting story with something good they can all take away in the end. No, the character doesnt have to die to prove a macab point. No the loving couple doesnt have to break up for some story twist. And thats what AU's are for if we're looking to explore something else so it's easy to separate from 👍

is there anything you really enjoy writing?

plot novellas 👀 I see a partner reply instantly to a plot thread and I jive for days on end until the next reply for real-- each one is a really juicy cliffhanger and a lot of them still haunt the back of my mind.

how do you come up with headcanons?

most come with interactions or thoughts stemming from the game or story itself. Eventually they branch out and more ideas happen and a lot comes from looking at dash and bringing up some really interesting points!

do you write in silence or do you play music?

Ambiance and music helps esp when silence is actually really distracting (thoughts wandering and what not-adhd be like that). The mood even influences the reply.

do you plan your replies or wing them?

planned for plot driven replies but ic bouts and simple replies are winged!

do you enjoy shipping?

YES YES YES YES, though recently I have to be a little more careful about saying Im completely open to shipping on whim. At some points the plot involves the other person too much and it gets hard to move a story along esp with the nature of the rpc and the lifespan of interest in the muse/rpc (which is natural ofc!).

You're okay to show and express interest in shipping so we can take a direction with our muses interaction wise but I say it's not for certain until they develop some more long term. Who knows, maybe it was just a crush or a fling sort of thought :' 0

what’s your alias/name?

Leche leche leche leche leche milk

age?

birthday?

may!

favorite color?

red and greens

favorite song?

Sugar, You by the Oh Honey has taken a lot of real-estate in my head lately--

last movie you watched?

I,,,havent watched a movie in a really long time Ill be honest OTL,, I dont have the attention span to sit down for more then twenty minutes if that.

last show you watched?

Aggretsuko final season! That,,,was awhile ago. See above oop--

last song you listened to?

Dont know the last song that played on my car radio 🤔

favorite food?

spaghetti and meatballs and cereal < 3

favorite season?

spring 🌼

do you have a tumblr best friend?

ooh I dont want to make anyone feel left behind. My moots have a special place regardless of hobby or not <3

tagging: uh...

#ooc. ･ﾟ ✹#tierra-paldeana #thank yooou < 3

11 notes · View notes

littlespoonevan · 1 month

Text

20 Questions for Fic Writers

thank you @sibylsleaves for the tag!! 🥰

How many works do you have on ao3?

88!

What's your total ao3 word count? 1,205,924

What fandoms do you write for?

Currently just 911 but previously all for the game, skam, shameless, and teen wolf

Top five fics by kudos:

Buy Back the Secrets

i want your midnights

come out to the sea, my love

Things Look Different in the Morning

a touch of someone else (to save me from myself)

Do you respond to comments?

Yes! i feel mean when i don't lmao but i currently have some to catch up on

What is the fic you wrote with the angstiest ending?

ohh, i mean by nature i am a very un-angsty person???? tbh i don't think i've ever written a sad ending before?????

What's the fic you wrote with the happiest ending?

well, as evidenced by my previous response, every fic i write has a happy ending lol but maybe Say Anything...As Long As It's I Love You just because that fic was pure self-indulgent fluff on my part askdjfh

Do you get hate on fics?

no, thankfully!! i've gotten one or two not so nice comments before but it was in a previous fandom a v long time ago

Do you write smut?

i've written allusions to smut lmao but never anything heavily explicit

Craziest crossover:

I've never written a crossover before but i do love me a good au based on a movie if you want to count any of those aksdjhf

Have you ever had a fic stolen?

Not to my knowledge!

Have you ever had a fic translated?

Yeah, a few! I don't tend to give permission for it anymore though since i decided to lock my fics to ao3

Have you ever co-written a fic before?

Yes!! one of my first ever fics was co-written with a fandom friend back in the teen wolf days :')

All time favorite ship?

my all time favourite ship is whatever ship is currently altering my brain chemistry the most so right now it's buddie 💕

What's a wip you want to finish but doubt you ever will?

listen, i would loVE to, but i genuinely do not think i will ever write that buddie royalty au. the worldbuilding is just so much effort rip aksdjhf

What are your writing strengths?

mm i think i'm pretty good at emotional development and i enjoy writing dialogue a lot!! but i will say every time someone compliments my characterisation an angel gets its wings 🥰

What are your writing weaknesses?

plot lmao. i am Not creative enough for plot-driven stories at all. she's a character-driven story girl all the way

Thoughts on dialogue in another language?

I don't really???? have any thoughts?????? if it's relevant for the story? cool, sure, go for it!! but unless the character is a fluent irish speaker it's not something i'll be writing any time soon lmao

First fandom you wrote in?

Glee and those fics do not exist on the internet anymore lol

Favorite fic you've written?

for 911 i'd say i'm someone you maybe might love, Say Anything...As Long As It's I Love You, nobody knows you, baby, the way i do and Close Enough for Comfort are my personal faves just in terms of emotion/love confessions/descriptions/characterisation etc.

but a special shoutout to my andreil band au And We'll Be Running bc i will literally never write anything that good ever again in my entire life askdjhf

Tagging: @mellaithwen @fcntasmas @buckactuallys @homerforsure @hattalove @capseycartwright @finduilasclln @bucktommys @hmslusitania and anyone else who feels like it!!! 🩷

#meme thing #writing adventures

11 notes · View notes

stardusthuntress · 8 months

Text

EnigmaTech - Ch. 4

My Tech Lives AU! (see prior chapters for summary)

Chapter 4 - A New Perspective

Tech x female!reader (pronouns only)

Word count: ~8.3k

Chapter Summary: Picking up right where we left off, the lost 3 and the regs now freed from that creep, Hemlock, are in need of a chance to heal. And, as Tech would say, the human body is fascinating, and especially puzzling when driven by the emotion center instead of the logic center.

Also, Tech may or may not end up shirtless at one point! Kinda needs a warning of it's own, hehe! <3 I recommend referring to the following fan art pieces by @amorfista (here and here) and @lightspringrain (1; 2; 3) and @bruh-myguy-what (here) and so many more, but these were the ones that have been on my mind lately!!! <3 love you guys!!!

TW: mentions of Tech's injuries again. I'm not a fan of the way shows show a character getting injured and then in the next episode they're fine. It's just so unrealistic. So, Tech is gonna be recovering for another chapter or two beyond this. It won't be gruesome tho. No descriptions of grossness. Just mentions of where Tech's mods are.

A/N: I am not a medic, nor do I know a damn thing about medical treatment! Nothing gross. Nothing angsty. A touch of jealosy, but that's it. Tech figuring out what the fuck it means to flirt. Reader's callsign still used intermittently.

It's been so long since I've added to this story! I've been so busy. Lift took a turn I did not expect, but I think it's actually gonna be a good change! Just needed some time to figure out what to do with the curveball. I've had most of this chapter pretty much ready to go for a while tho, so it's time to release this to the world! Doing my best to getting back into writing these, I miss writing so much!

Tech dividers: @/djarrex

“Tech, let’s give those meds a few more minutes under observation to bring your system back to a somewhat normal level before we do anything else, just to make sure you’re stable. Okay?” Spitfire checks in with her patient.

“Yes. That is an excellent idea. I will inform you if I perceive any changes in my current state of being. Perhaps it will provide adequate time for my brothers to receive medical attention as well?”

“Certainly,” she nods, beckoning Wrecker over. “Wreck, the left shoulder?!? Again???!!! Your poor left shoulder, Big Guy! That’s at least the third time you’ve taken a hit to your left shoulder since the Empire became a thing!”

“Tech told me once that it’s better that it’s my left rather than my right because I’m right handed.” Wrecker’s voice is quiet.

Spitfire sighs, “He’s correct there, but either way, less hits to any of you at all would be ideal. Let’s get you patched up, Big Guy.”

“Awwww, no I hate medical stuff. Do we have to?”

“Yes, we want it to heal. It will be over before you know it. Tech and Crosshair are getting patched up too. I won’t do anything that might hurt if I don’t have to, I promise.” She pats his arm, trying to reassure the large man with touch as well as words.

Tech didn’t remember seeing Wrecker take a hit to his shoulder, but he’s glad someone noticed.

She has finally managed to sit Wrecker down and has started rummaging through the med pack Echo got out to use on Tech and Cross. Out of the corner of her eye, she notices Wrecker fretting.

“You remind me of another trooper I once worked with, Big Guy,” she starts, “I was working with the 104th at the time. The man’s name was Numbskull.”

“Hah! how’d he get a name like that?” Wrecker asks. The room is quiet, all the men listening to her voice in an attempt to keep their minds off of the horrors they found within the walls of Hemlock’s facility.

“By doing the same thing you do, Goofball! He took so many hits to his shoulder that he eventually lost all the feeling in his arm.”

“His whole arm?” Wrecker seems stuck somewhere between amusement and worry.

“Mmhmm. After enough hits to the pressure points and the spaces between the gaps in his armour, he said all he felt was a tingling in the back of his skull when the doc tried the good old pinch test.”

“Where you pinch his arm to see if he can still feel it?” Once Wrecker started trying to think his way through the story, his worry began to fade.

“Exactly, all he felt was a little tingle in the base of his skull. And then eventually he lost all the feeling in his arm completely. But he could still use the arm like normal, he just couldn’t feel it.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad. I’d rather not feel any pain.” Wrecker’s shoulders relax.

Tech and Echo laughed, exchanging glances beside her, as she continued her work on Wrecker. The idea isn’t so bad to them either, a numb Wrecker would certainly be a lot easier to deal with during medical exams, thats for sure.

She smiled. Her story was working, distracting and calming not just Wrecker, but all the boys, while she patched them up, but she was only getting started.

“There was this one day where Numbskull was fighting a battle down a seppie hallway. The boys had managed to take out the main power generator, so the whole base was running on backup power. Now, this base was enormous! Definitely ended up a lot bigger than the Seppies intended it to be. So much so, that the entire base was really struggling to function on backup power. Doors would only half open and then get stuck, and blast doors could easily be pried back open without much effort. Battle was going surprisingly well. Turned out they were trying to empty the base anyway, probably because it got too big and was only good as a diversion anymore, so it was just a skeleton crew there. And Numbskull’s squad was one of the ones assigned to work their way through the hallways and clear out any droids they found.”

She pauses to glance around the room at their faces to see if they want to hear the story before continuing, “Just his luck, Numbskull managed to find a room chock full of fully functional B1’s. Now, Numbskull liked to wield 2 blasters, one in each hand, like Tech over here.”

Tech smiles, surprised she was aware since he had clearly not been doing that during today’s escape.

“Numbskull’s preferred tactic was to plant himself in the middle of the driods and extend his arms in a T-pose so he could take down droids on either side at the same time, or so he claimed.” She demonstrated with her body: holding a pretend blaster in each hand, one outstretched on either side of her, pointing 180 degrees away from each other. “He thought that was the most fun way to take the droids down. After a while it kinda became his signature move.”

By this point, all the men are engaged in the story, various expressions of amusement on their faces and in their stance and posture, not paying much attention to the medical checkups she and Echo were conducting. Even Omega was listening from Hunter’s lap, and Hunter seemed relieved that she was so entrenched in the story and was getting a little of her mojo back. She’d grown rather quiet since their return to the ship. Meanwhile Hunter conducted a discrete medical scan of his little girl with one hand while the other comfortingly petted her hair.

“I was working with the Commander in the control room when the call came in. Numbskull’s squad had managed to draw the B1’s into the hallway, and Numbskull planted himself right in the middle of all the droids and pulled his signature move,” She’s laughing a bit as she tells the story. “The men were laughing so hard they could barely call it in. Turns out, Numbskull hadn’t noticed the blast doors closing, he’d been so focused on one blaster, he forgot to look back over his other shoulder at his numb arm too. You know how the blast doors close in a spiral so the last spot to close up is right in the center? Well, by the time he remembered to look at his other hand, his numb hand, his arm was stuck. The blast doors had closed around his wrist. It was a good thing the whole base was only functioning on low power, or it would have just taken his whole hand clean off and he wouldn’t have noticed a thing. In the end, he was fine, just some minor bruising. That was the day his squad knew they’d picked the right name for him.”

Wrecker howled with laughter, and the rest of the room wasn’t far behind.

“You should have seen the Commander’s face when the squad finally stopped laughing enough to tell him what had happened and that Numbskull was stuck and in need of an extraction.”

Echo paused, halfway through a procedure for Crosshair, earning a glare from his patient as he turned towards the woman, “Wait, did you say you were working with the 104th?”

“Yup!” She confirmed.

“That was the Wolffepack?!” Echo’s disbelief echoes in the small room.

“Yup!” she was laughing too. “So you know how Wolffe never smiles, and definitely never laughs?”

“Yeah…?” Echo’s disbelief has turned to skepticism, but it’s quickly fading, she knows too much about Wolffe for this to be completely made up.

“That was the closest that man has ever come to a laugh that I have ever witnessed. He could not believe the dumb shit his men had gotten into. He just stood there looking pained and staring into a corner for a second (though I think he was focusing all his effort on not laughing), before snorting in annoyance (or laugh that broke through his composure) and leaving the room. He told us later he had to ‘borrow Master Plo’s saber to get Numbskull out’. The control room was still on a holo-call with them when the second bout of uncontrollable laughter that came through the comms a few minutes later turned out to be the squad’s reaction to the way Wolffe just walked in and stood there, glaring at Numbskull’s arm for a solid minute, muttering something about ‘my circus, my monkeys’ and ‘definitely my idiots’ before he ignited the saber and took the doors outta commission.”

Wrecker laughed again, loud and proud, and clearly relaxed.

“All done, Big Guy!” she patted Wrecker’s uninjured shoulder, and he got up and walked to the cockpit. Omega jumped up and went with him, Hunter’s favorite soft blanket wrapped tightly around her shoulders.

Tech looked around the room. Spitfire had clearly done that to relax more than just Wrecker. His whole family (Omega was right) had clearly enjoyed the story.

Echo declared Crosshair done, and he stood to leave the room. He’d been so tortured, he wasn’t exactly up for walking on his own yet, and she let him put a hand on her shoulder for balance. She discretely helped him up and passed him off to Hunter who was standing at the ready for him. But before Crosshair let go of her shoulder, he gave it a quick squeeze of thanks, and a barely noticeable nod. He too had appreciated the distraction.

Echo joins her as they begin a scan of Tech’s injuries.

Still laughing softly to himself Echo shook his head in disbelief, “I still can’t believe that’s a Wolffepack story,” he snorted, pinching his nose. “Does Rex know this one?”

“Na. Never found the time to tell him. And somehow I don’t see Wolffe ever wanting to tell him that one either. But I sure hope he learns the story someday!” She had moved to helping Echo patch up Tech.

Tech notices how easily she and Echo converse, not to mention the indicators of a shared history that seems to go back to Echo’s 501st days. Tech wishes he had something like that to help him figure out what to say to this brilliant Mandalorian woman. Tech lets his mind drift a bit as they continue their tests and scans, realizing this is only the second time in his life he’s felt this way about someone.

Eye’s still glazed over, he begins to subconsciously turn towards the woman whenever she says something, but hardly reacts at all to anything Echo says.

“Uhh,” Echo looks over at her, “I think this part will go a lot faster with two hands.” He holds out the next patch Tech will need.

She smiles and takes it, “You don’t need my help, but since you’d rather I do this, I will.” She laughs, which makes Echo smile back. He always did love the sound of her laughter.

Echo smirked, glanced between her and Tech, and left the room.

Tech felt his own logic replaced by a sudden bashfulness, his mind nearly as blurry as his vision, but this time he gets the feeling the haze in his mind is from emotions rather than an unstable body in an environment designed to keep it off kilter. But he realizes her story was meant as more than just a way to calm them all down. She also liked it when her actions and words had many meanings, much like he did. She’d just given him a conversation starter.

“Thank you,” he muttered, unable to look at her as she finished patching him up. “For calming down the whole… family with a story. You’ve no idea how much they needed that. Wrecker can be quite the handful during medical exams.”

She laughs and nods, “Oh, I know.”

It’s not long before they arrive at the medical facility.

Medics determine that whether or not Tech needs a replacement eye is TBD, he needs to heal a bit first and they need to run a few more tests. So they send him back to his family and the Marauder.

In the meantime, they are quite overwhelmed removing the chips from the hundreds of clones now roaming the hidden medical facility. To help process them all, Rex volunteers those who have previously had their chips removed and the Mandalorian to aid the processing.

Naturally, she volunteers to help as much as she can. They assign her to work with Echo to monitor Tech’s state of health, and give her rotations of state of health checks for the other new rescues before and after chip removal, usually during Tech’s more intensive medical checkups with a real doctor.

This also means she needs to be more familiar with the specifics of Tech’s injuries. Back on the Marauder, she, Tech, and Echo set about constructing more detailed notes about every new mod now adorning Tech.

“I’m going to need you to take off your shirt for the next part so I can see the mods the medics mentioned on your torso, maybe add some fresh bacta and replace the bandages, you know the drill,”

Tech obliges without question. It is a logical request, she is only doing her job and intends to help him to the best of her ability as he adjusts to life with his newly modified body.

However, he finds himself sitting on the hem of his shirt. So, to make it easier, he simply stands up to take it off.

She turns back around, having just traded out instruments in her hands, doesn’t realize that he stood up to remove his shirt, and nearly faceplants into his bare chest.

Not that she’s complaining.

She does everything she can to NOT visibly react beyond simple and expected surprise, but boy is that hard! Tech is ripped. The man has very chiseled muscles. Clearly, Wrecker and Hunter weren’t the only ones hitting the gym frequently. It made sense, they are military men after all. Being in good shape was a logical choice for war. Getting a lot of exercise was a given anyways, and was common amongst the battle-hardened Mandalorians she was used to as well. But somehow, all that had slipped her mind, until Tech took off the tops of his blacks, that is.

She blushed and hoped her little inhale when she turned around and came face to face with his chest wasn’t audible. She does her best to concentrate on her work, but it’s hard given how attractive and intelligent this man is.

Wrecker grins at Echo from the doorway. Her reaction wasn’t lost on him.

Echo takes this as their cue to excuse themselves and return to the others in the cockpit.

“Oop, sorry! Didn’t realize you stood up!” Is all she says. Fortunately, without his goggles, it wasn’t likely that Tech would notice if her cheeks were heating up. Unless he touched her face, which he had no reason to do, so nothing to worry about, right?

“Ah, my apologies. You switched out tools more quickly than I anticipated,” Tech tried to look down at the blurry shape he knew was her.

To verify that the medbay station has not shifted - since it’s not like he can just look at the wheels to see if it is locked in place - Tech turns slightly and leans to place a hand on the medbay station he had been seated at.

Realizing only too late that she’s still in his personal space, she quickly attempts to shuffle back to a reasonable distance for two new acquaintances, only to find herself dodging his shoulder as he turns to place a hand on the pad.

Tech freezes when his shoulder brushes past soft hair. He can hear her shuffling around quite close. “Oh, forgive me, I should have warned you I needed to locate my seat, so that you knew not to start yet. Now that I am once again seated, you may begin.”

How sweet of him to assume she was simply eager to continue on with the state of health check. Of course that’s all it was. She tried to convince herself she had not just gotten distracted by his abs.

Thankfully, Echo and Wrecker had returned to the cockpit with everyone else, so no one was there to witness the full extent of her embarrassment. As such, there’s nothing much that can be done except to plow on though the medical exams, so that’s what she does.

Her hands are, once again, cold. So, she rubs them together in an attempt to warm them up before she begins.

“I take it your extremities are usually cold?” Tech inquires.

“Yeah, sorry. Not so great when I’m acting as a medic instead of a warrior.” Tech notes that this is the first time her voice has sounded a little shy.

Following the sounds of her, he reaches out for her hands, and takes them in his.

His touch is gentle, soft. Surprised that he reached for her hand at all, she is shocked into silence.

“That hardly qualifies as cold. You may begin, if you are ready,” Tech states.

“You know it will feel colder on the skin that is usually hidden beneath your blacks and your armor,” she points out, partially on autopilot, still trying to process the face that Tech just took her hands in his and that he just gave her permission to touch him.

“Yes. I am prepared,” Tech assures her.

“Alright, here goes,” she shrugs off her feelings as best as she can.

Gentle fingers examine the lines between machine and man, searching for bruises and tender spots in the hopes that the internal damage is minimal and was well patched up.

Tech is amazed by how gentle this woman’s touch is. There are moments when he is barely even aware that her fingers still rest on him.

And he quite likes having her hands on his chest and arms. He’s never enjoyed touch so much, nor had he ever liked touch directly on his skin so much before. In fact, he usually didn’t like it. He’d been trained to wear blacks and gloves whenever he did anything - building things, warfare, even when typing. He didn’t like things on his skin. His blacks provided a welcome barrier between him and the strange textures of the world around him.

Hunter had often placed a hand on his shoulder, and he’d noticed Captain Rex did the same. Even during medical assessments, the Kaminoans only touched the clones if it was absolutely necessary. Clone medics were a different story, many used touch to reassure stressed and pained brothers, but Echo, the medic of the 99th, knew Tech didn’t like touch.

Wrecker’s touch often annoyed him though. Wrecker often forgot how strong he was, and roughhousing wasn’t uncommon around him. Tech didn’t like it when Wrecker would shove his shoulder, but Wrecker meant well, so Tech didn’t say anything about it anymore.

But then she had touched him. And it was like she had known he was repulsed by, and unfamiliar with touch, so she kept her touches as light and barely-there as possible. As she works on a panel on his shoulder, her palm rests on his pec.

Tech quietly revels in it, resisting the urge to place his hand upon hers and hold it there flat against his chest for a moment. Was this why Wrecker and Hunter liked touch? No, it couldn’t be. Her touch was not like any other being Tech had ever come into contact with, pun intended. She was special, but he barely knew anything about her. He could barely even see her… and though physical attraction had never been important to Tech before, he found himself aching just to know her face. It hadn’t helped that Echo had made a point to describe her as cute when he introduced her to Crosshair. He wondered what Echo considered cute… if only he could see, then he might understand the comment.

Fixated on his ability to see, or rather lack thereof, Tech’s mind begins to spiral. He’s so used to being able to see the world around him, and so much of what he does depends on it, a few hours of blindness felt like an eternity.

Much of what Tech did depended on his ability to see, but now he’s going to have to learn alternatives just to live.

He can get a walking stick, or a guide massiff, though it’s not likely Hunter will allow the latter. They don’t need one more mouth to feed. Normally, he would just build a robotic one, but he can’t safely construct anything if he can’t see what he is doing. Gonky could help a bit as a proxy guide-massif, but there is a lot he can’t do, and he’s slow, Tech needed fast.

Speaking of speed, would he ever be able to run again? It’s hard to move quickly if you aren’t aware of your environment. He wouldn’t be much help on missions if he can’t move quickly… and he definitely wouldn’t be able to fight with just his hearing to rely on.

Now Tech wished he had the force. He’d heard tell of Jedi who learned to see through the force, but that wasn’t in the cards for a mere clone. The Kaminoans seemed certain that the ability to wield the force could not be cloned, and as far as Tech was aware there was no reason NOT to trust their knowledge there. After all, cloning was their expertise.

As she continues with the health check, she notices his demeanor falling again - he’s so used to being able to see the world around him.

In an effort to both cheer him up and bring in their other resident expert in modifications to living beings, she calls Echo back into the room. As it stands, they do have a lot of similar mods now. She asks Echo a few questions about various attachments now adorning Tech as they run diagnostics and make sure everything is interfacing with Tech’s own body in ways that won’t do more damage than good.

As they work, they place Tech’s fingers on each mod so he can “see” it, warning him of buttons and asking questions about what he can control.

“Echo, does this data port look familiar to you?” She is working on a mod behind Tech’s ear at the base of his skull.

Tech lifts his hand from his lap “Show me.”

She obliges and gently places his fingers on the port. Meanwhile her fingers drift off the metal and settle ever so gently on Tech’s own skin, remaining near the piece she is working on.

Tech twitches.

She quickly pulls her hand away. “Sorry, I know my hands got cold again.”

“It is quite alright, I was simply not expecting it,” Tech just hopes she misses the blush on his cheeks. He’s doing everything he can to keep his heart rate down too. He’d quite enjoyed her touch actually. Gentle and soft, despite the well-calloused fingers from years of working on wiring and machinery and armor.

But it wasn’t just that. Tech was learning all sorts of things about the human body he had never even considered before today. One of which, is that there seems to be an erogenous zone just beneath the ear. Right where her fingers had so gently brushed. The softness of her touch had sent a spark through his veins and a shiver down his spine. Truth be told, that was why Tech had flinched, not the temperature of her hands. But he needed more data, not to mention time, in order to prove whether it was simply the long-lasting effect of whatever drugs Hemlock had used on Tech, before he even came close to admitting the real reason why to anyone.

Unbenounced to Tech, Echo had noticed. Echo knew knew what it looked like when Tech flinched when he was startled. And the way Tech has straightened up instead of shifting away like he usually did looked a hell of a lot more like an aroused shiver to him. So a mind like Tech’s could be aroused after all. But Echo also needed solid proof before he’d believe it. And he was standing next to a very attractive woman. Afterall, the man was a Domino. So, naturally, there was one way to get more information quickly. He would flirt with her as the conversation continued, and watch Tech’s reaction.

“I wish I could see the port,” Tech’s voice is quiet, “I cannot quite tell what it is with just touch.”

“Yeah, it’s quite a small port and it’s recessed into the panel a bit.” Echo answers, no hint of mischief in his tone. Fives and Rex hadn’t nicknamed him ‘silver tongue’ for nothing.

“Hmm, I swear I’ve seen a cable with that end on it around here somewhere…” Her thought trails off as she looks around. “Any chance you remember where we should look to find a plethora of cables we could try, Tech?”

“If I could see my surroundings, I could probably think of the many places I keep assorted cables, but I do not know how things have been reorganized or shifted around since I was last on the ship…” Tech’s voice trails off with a sigh.

The room falls quiet for a moment. Tech can hear them rummaging around. He never thought losing the ability to see would affect him so much. In fact, he never really thought about losing his sight at all. His mind was not made to process emotions well, in point of fact it was made with the intent of avoiding the cumbersome ordeal of emotions so that logic would drive him in stressful situations. But even the Kaminoans couldn’t remove all the human pieces, so Tech still had emotions… he slouched forward, resting his elbows on his knees and hung his head.

Just a glimpse would be all he would need. He hadn’t realized just how dependent on sight his life was. No matter what happened, whether they were able to get him a prosthetic eye, like Wreckers, or whether they could not, he would make a point of learning how to cope in a world where he could not see, just in case. But for now, he was living in a world of VERY blurry shapes. He sighed heavily.

“I know,” her voice piped up from right beside Tech. He hadn’t realized she was still right next to him. He turned towards her, though it wasn’t like he could SEE her. He suppressed another sigh. And felt a light touch rest on his shoulder where a soft, very familiar material was draped over his arm; his blacks. He reached up for his shirt and she placed it in his hand.

“I know. It’s hard to lose a sense that you had previously depended on so much. We will find a way to get some of your sight back. We can also find other ways so you don’t have to feel so dependent on seeing the world around you, if that would help?”

Tech nodded, “Thank you,” he replied quietly, placing a hand over hers on his shoulder. “And, for the record, your hands are not that cold.”

“Oh,” her voice took on a teasing tone, “so they are a little cold, huh?” She nudged him with the hint of a laugh in the air between them.

He let out a little chuckle too. Tech found himself unknowingly leaning into her touch a bit. He couldn’t see, but he could feel - touch as well as emotions. He’d learned that much from his interactions today.

But the happiness on his features quickly faded, the weight of his current predicament too great to allow simple distractions to last for long.

“Maybe you don’t need to see it or touch it to figure this out. What do you feel?” Her voice dragged his wandering mind back to the real world.

“WhAt?” Tech’s heart raced. Had she already figured out he liked her touch? Had he been that obvious? Internally, Tech went into panic mode. Externally, he did his best to keep his cool, like he always did.

“Can you access the port and tell us what kind of data it is programmed to receive?” She asked.

“Ah, excellent idea,” he replied, cool and nonchalant. Of course that was what she had meant, Tech’s panic subsided. He put his shirt back on and took a moment to search for the device driver in his operating system.

“It seems to be set up to take in all media types: text files, binary files, audio and video files, a wide variety of map files, anything a typical datapad can handle.”

“WAIT!” Her voice was laced with a revelation.

Tech jumped at the excitement in her voice, and he could hear Echo stop his rummaging. He had likely stopped to turn and look at her.

“What is it, Gorgeous?” A teasing smirk graced Echo’s features as he looks at her, watching Tech in his peripheral vision, knowing full well Tech can’t see the look on his face, “another useful factoid on the tip of your tongue?”

She laughed. Tech wished he could tell if she had also smiled at Echo or not. She likely had. It was a fairly common reaction when someone was flir—Wait! Was Echo flirting with her? Tech found himself getting angry. Illogical, he barely knew her! But he did like her touch, as well as her demeanor, not to mention her wit! She was kind, gentle, and had so far proven to be his equal in mind. She had, as Hunter described it, been the one to sift through Tech’s notes and make sense of them, and figured out he was still alive. He felt like he owed her his life as much as he owed it to his brothers.

And yet the way Echo had called her ‘gorgeous’, and the ease with which they communicated in half-formed sentences while searching the room, as well as the shared experiences implied by the story earlier, would suggest they had known each other for quite a while.

We’re they partners? And if so, in what sense of the word? Had he finally found his equal in mind, the kind of person he’d finally allowed himself to dream of having as a partner, only to discover that her heart had already been given away to someone else? Tech desperately hoped that was not the case. Though, if it was, Echo was a lucky man indeed.

Tech was lost in his thoughts, his mind racing away in a split second, missing that he had not hidden the pinch of his brow when Echo called her ‘Gorgeous’. Echo took it to mean that Tech was upset that he couldn’t even see her face.

“Video files! Tech! You brilliant man! You already solved it!” She exclaimed.

“Pardon?” Tech was confused. He wasn’t holding anything. He hadn’t been fiddling with anything had he?

“Where are the goggles?” He could hear her excitedly shuffling around him.

“Goggles won't do much, I’d need ey—“ he stopped, realizing exactly where she was going with this. “My recording device! Do you think you could make it into a prosthetic eye? I could provide instructions, if need be.”

“First, let’s just see if this is gonna work. Ah HA! Here they are! Echo, do you remember where we put the cable for them?”

“Yeah. That I kept safe. It’s over here,” Echo’s footsteps walked past Tech, towards Echo’s special spot where he kept his important belongings. So that much had stayed constant during Tech’s leave of absence.

“Okay,” she started, again at Tech’s side. “I repaired your recording device, and Echo made sure there’s no trace of the Empire’s meddling left on it. So, in theory, all we have to do is plug it in. Tell me if something doesn’t feel right, and we will unplug immediately and start a diagnostic. Okay?”

“Excellent,” Tech replied. “However, if anything goes wrong, I suggest you have a mild sedative on hand to knock me out, and a set of cuffs ready just in case the Empire tries to take my mind back.”

She sighed, Tech felt a new touch on his shoulder. Definitely her touch, but not like a touch he’d felt before. Echo could be heard retrieving the necessary preparations in the background, while Tech sorted out this new feeling. Then her hair brushed his bicep. She was resting her forehead on his shoulder! She laughed quietly.

“You really do think of everything don’t you?” She’d said it quietly, so quietly it was likely that Echo couldn't hear exactly what she had said.

“It is wise to be prepared,” Tech could feel his finger rising to accentuate his point, automatically.

“Yes, but I seriously hope we don’t have to use them,” she muttered quietly, to him alone.

“As do I,” He agreed.

Echo returned with the cable and Tech’s suggested in-case-of’s.

Tech sat there, waiting. Nervousness painting his features. He might be able to see again, momentarily! And if he did, would it be enough to make him useful again until he could teach himself alternative methods? Would it be enough to allow him to continue to participate in their chaotic lifestyle? Questions danced around his mind. But he took a deep breath and refocused himself on the here and now, on the senses he could still use.

He could tell that she now stood side-by-side with Echo. Echo in front of Tech, while she returned to her post at Tech’s side. He tilted his head to give her better access to the data port there.

“Let me take the remaining fragments out of the lenses. Maker, why didn’t we do that ages ago? Why did we let this sit here with shards of transparisteel in it?” She muttered.

Tech noted that she seemed nervous too, though he was not sure why. He could hear the pieces entering the waste receptacle as she removed them one by one. Tech waited patiently, doing his best not to tap his foot. He needed to stim, but he didn’t want it to come across as impatience.

“It’s okay if you need to stim, Tech,” she must have noticed what he was doing. “I understand this is a big moment, if you need to move to process it, don’t stop on my account.”

Tech let a small smile cross his features, as he let out a sigh he didn’t know he was holding. “Thank you,” he said to the floor. He took a deep breath to let his nerves around her out - it was actually sort of helpful that he couldn't see her yet, it became significantly easier to let go when he was only vaguely aware of her presence - and allowed his foot to resume its rhythmic tapping.

“Alright, you ready?” She asked.

Tech nodded. “Ready when you are.”

“I’m going to put your goggles on you first, over the bandages.They’re gonna be very loose though, we don’t need it creating more injuries while these heal. You adjust them as needed so it feels comfortable, then when you’re ready, I’ll plug it in. I don’t know how it’s going to interface with your operating system, but I bet Echo can give you some tips on that if he hasn’t already. He’s standing right in front of you so he will be the first thing you see. Okay?”

“Understood.” Tech held as still as he could, his anticipation palpable.

“Here goes. Goggles going on…”

He felt the band slip over his head, and reached up to adjust it as she had suggested. His fingers brushed over hers. He felt that new spark again, racing from the point of contact between their hands to his core. But right now he was too excited to see again. He pushed the spark to the side, hoping he would have time to focus on that later.

“Ready to receive data,” he told her, closing his one good eye to avoid the juxtaposition of one blurry and one clear image confusing his brain.

“Plugging in… there.”

She and Echo watched the red light on the side of Tech’s goggles blink to life, and then go a steady red.

Tech remained still for a moment.

She and Echo exchanged hopeful glances.

Then, Tech’s brows rose and his chin lifted, pointing the camera up, towards Echo’s face.

“Hello, Echo,” Tech chirped, relieved to have some sight to work with again. Though this new perspective - from the side of his face - would take some getting used to.

For the first time in a while, Echo smiled. “Hello Tech! Good to have you back, ol’ buddy!”

Tech looked slowly down at his lap, and raised his hands, getting adjusted to the side-shifted perspective.

Next to Tech, she giggled. “Oh you brilliant mind, you!” And she pressed a quick kiss to Tech’s temple.

As heat rose to the surface of Tech’s cheeks, he was suddenly struck by the fact that he still hadn’t seen her face. He didn’t know why that made him nervous though.

Echo laughed. Her surprise kiss to Tech had caught even him off guard.

“Oh! Sorry, I didn’t even think about it, I just did it. Was that okay? I’m sorry if I overstepped!” She babbled.

Tech opened his mouth to answer, but found his mind vacant of any coherent sentences. It was all he could do to try to refocus on his surroundings to ground himself once again.

So he focused on Echo, who was still standing in front of him. It had been a while since Tech had seen Echo laugh like this. And their reactions would clearly indicate that Echo and Spitfire were clearly not ‘together’ as his brothers would say. But the nerves quickly took over Tech’s mind again as he realized she had withdrawn her touch from him while she waited for his answer. He did his best to reacquire his ability to speak.

“It is quite alright. I do not mind,” Tech replied. Odds were, he was not hiding the warmth in his face now. He had completely lost control of it. Oh well, at least it was appropriate in such a situation. And it gave him an excuse to look at her.

Slowly, so that his new perspective wouldn’t make his stomach spin like his head currently was from her kiss, he turned to look at her, hoping his naturally emotionless exterior would swoop in and save him from further embarrassment.

But it seemed his subconscious wanted to make him suffer today. It took extra effort to hide his reaction. Echo was right. She was gorgeous. Tech had known she was smart, at least as intelligent as he was if he had to wager a guess. He was well aware that he liked the gentleness of her touch. And he had known that she had a pretty voice, and an even prettier laugh. But she was also very physically attractive. Especially with the flustered expression currently adorning her face as she bit her lip and looked nervously at him.

Once again, Tech didn’t have words, he just looked at her. He didn’t know what he expected, all he knew was that her natural beauty threw him off guard.

Beside them, Echo was trying to contain his laughter; though admittedly, he wasn’t trying that hard.

“Brother, you’re staring,” Echo chortled, shaking Tech’s shoulder to snap him out of it.

Tech started and snapped his gaze back to Echo. Too fast. He could feel the nausea rising in his gut. He tried to close his eyes and then remembered his real eye was closed and this new ‘eye’ didn’t have eyelids. He got the feeling his face was likely draining of color.

“You okay?” Concern laced her voice.

“Unplug,” Tech managed, swallowing hard, “please.”

She hurriedly unplugged the device. “What’s up, everything okay?”

Tech sat still and breathed for a moment. Well, all things considered, it does make sense that a new point of view would be disorienting. However, since they had decided so quickly to try this, it was not an outcome he had yet thought through.

One more swallow and a long deep breath and he was ready to speak again. “Yes. Thank you for unplugging quickly. The point of view of my recording device is a little too far to one side. I moved too quickly, and became disoriented and slightly nauseous.”

Next to Tech, Echo was not even bothering to hold in his laughter anymore.

Hunter appeared in the doorway, the laughter having drawn his attention from the cockpit, as Echo piped up, “Of all the things I thought might happen when we got out your goggles, ‘Tech getting distracted by a beautiful woman, and then allowing his own jumpiness to make himself sick’ was certainly not on the list.” He laughed harder, “I can’t wait to tell Rex this story.” Now Hunter was laughing too.

Tech’s cheeks blazed with heat.

“Are you sure it wasn’t the fact that I’m NOT actually attractive that made him sick, Echo?”

The room fell silent.

“WHAT!” Hunter and Echo’s voices suddenly filled the ship’s hold, reverberating off the durasteel walls.

“Why would you think that?” Hunter asked.

“Don’t coddle me Hunter, I’m used to it.”

Hunter and Echo sat there fishing for words like fish out of water. Their mouths opened and closed, but no sound came out.

Tech could hear only silence in answer. That was not okay. Why weren’t his brother’s saying something? No matter, Tech would do his best to remedy the issue.

“Then allow me to put your concerns to rest,” Tech butted in, “For I AM certain that it was my startled reaction to Echo bringing me out of my reverie. I was indeed distracted by your beauty. I have rarely ever encountered an individual of your caliber. I must admit, while the first thing I noticed about you was your voice, it was your mind that truly caught my attention. But now that I have seen your face, I can confirm that you are indeed quite a stunning woman as well.”

She spluttered for a moment, struggling to find words of any sort. “I… well… umm……… thank you, Tech. That’s… that’s very sweet of you.” She rested her hand on his shoulder again, and this time Tech happily reached up and placed his over hers.

“He’s right, you know. I don’t call just anyone Gorgeous,” Echo flirted. Tech could hear Echo moving towards her, and desperately wished he could see what they were doing. But wait, that could work! Though he didn’t quite know why he was so desperate to keep Echo from flirting with her - was this jealousy? All he knew was that he was going to act on it regardless.

“Will you, um,” Tech pointed to the side of his head. “I would like to see the rest of my brothers now,” he finished while she reconnected the cord. “We will have to find ways to do this differently in the future, but for now, at least I am not totally in the dark.”

Off to the side now, Echo chuckled quietly to himself. So he had been proven right. Tech was already quite taken with her.

“I’ll go get the others then,” Echo volunteered to give them a moment to themselves, already heading towards the cockpit.

Tech sat still for a moment, and she watched the light blink and go steady again. And then Tech’s hand reached to the side, towards her. She knew he could not see her where she was standing, but it surprised her when he found her hand and gently pulled her in front of him, so he could look up at her again.

“Yes.” Tech said, eyes wide. “You are indeed quite attractive, My Dear. Now, if only I could quantify that for you to prove it.” He smirked, “perhaps I can, though it will take time and deliberation to develop a good system. You are not something that can be taken lightly.”

The surprise on her face pleased him. But his emotions were becoming very confusing for his analytical mind. He felt a rush at having so successfully complimented her on his first try. But he also felt nervous that he wouldn’t be able to best that compliment. And he felt ‘screwed’ as Wrecker would describe it… there was no way to avoid falling for this woman. But somehow, knowing that he was fated to fall for her was… thrilling? Emotions were complicated… and not at all logical… and so rarely ever came one at a time anymore. but alas, those were issues for later, he reminded himself again. Right now, he wanted to see his brothers, and sister!

“My Dear,” he practically purred, he could see Hunter raising his eyebrows at him in the doorway behind her, “Would you help me to stand up slowly so that I can look my brothers in the eye when I greet them?”

“You might want to wait on that one,” Hunter was now leaning against the wall just outside the main room, looking over his shoulder towards the copilot's seat as a blur of blonde dashed out ahead of Wrecker, Echo, and Crosshair.

The woman stepped aside as the blonde dart zipped in for a hug.

“Tech! I still can’t believe you’re alive!” Her voice was muffled as she refused to raise her head from his chest to speak. “Echo said you can sorta see now?” She uncurled herself from his chest and backed up so she could see his face. “Ooooh! Are you using the recording device on your goggles as your new eyes?” She asked. She seemed impressed.

“Indeed. Good observation, Omega.”

“COOL!”

Tech couldn’t help but smile. Behind her, Hunter’s grin was the biggest of them all. Though Wrecker’s teary one might surpass that quickly.

“Tech!” Wrecker blubbered from over Omega’s shoulder, “I’m sorry I couldn’t get you outta the railcar fast enough. If I had, maybe you wouldn't be dealing with this now.”

“Wrecker, there was nothing you could have done. But it does not matter. I am here now, and we are finding solutions, just like we always do.” Tech’s voice was matter of fact, as always, but in a way meant to reassure Wrecker.

Wrecker’s tears subsided a bit, and he tilted his head to the side, realizing he was standing directly in front of Tech, but Tech’s new eye was off to one side. By tilting his head, he could more directly look his brother in the ‘eye’ so to speak. “Is it… like normal… or is it… offset?” He asked.

His observation impressed Tech.

“It is offset. So much so, that if I move too much or too quickly it will make me feel nauseated.” Tech explained.

“So, no sudden movements?” Wrecker tucked his arms in, resisting the urge to hug his brother.

“Correct.”

“That’s why you were laughing earlier, right?” Hunter asked Echo.

“Yeah,” Echo answered, taking the opportunity to fill Wrecker in, “he made himself woozy when I startled him because he got distracted by her.” Echo used his thumb to gesture at Spitfire.

Wrecker smiled, and had been about to further Tech’s embarrassment when Crosshair stepped forward, and for a moment the room fell silent.

“It does not look like they treated you well, Crosshair.” Tech observed.

“You could say that,” Crosshair drawled.

“I wish there was more I could have done to prevent that,” Tech spoke up again. “I was connected to the main system at the base, but it seems Hemlock did his research well, and learned what not to do from our mission to break Echo out of the Techno Union’s control. I suspect Spitfire already told you as much… In short, the effect on my end was that I could see you two, but I could do nothing to protect you.”

Crosshair shrugged and looked away. He was surprised that Tech still wanted to protect him. After they all kept their blasters trained on him while he rescued Omega from the sinking wreckage on Kamino, he had thought he’d lost their trust forever.

“However, I could access your record,” that earned a side eye from Crosshair as Tech continued. “I am sorry about Mayday. Though I am proud he was our brother too. I would have acted much the same as you, had I been there in your stead.”

Crosshair retreated into himself, jaw clenched, but nodded subtly.

The other’s exchanged glances, that name was new to them. Omega opened her mouth, questions on the tip of her tongue, but Hunter shook his head, and she fell silent, understanding that that meant that Crosshair was clearly not ready to talk about it.

“Have you received the medical attention you need since returning to the ship?” Tech inquired.

Crosshair nodded, doing his best not to show how grateful he was that Tech had diverted the topic at hand, but Tech’s observational nature noticed every detail.

“Echo made me his nurse!” Wrecker chimed in. “Don’t feel bad waking me up for anything Cross, I’ve got ya!”

Tech let a half smile sit on his lips. He was back home with his brothers and sister again. Everything was going to be okay. And there was a highly intelligent, highly attractive woman, whom he was willing to believe was flirting with him, if her sudden kiss to his temple earlier was anything to go off of.

Please don’t steal my work! I pour my heart into these so if you like it please reblog to share instead of reposting it!

taglist: @bambambunny @amorfista @originalcollectionartistry (I hope I got everyone, and if I messed up and added someone who wasn't supposed to be on the taglist, dm me and I'll fix it!)

#EnigmaTech #zenith writes #tbb tech x reader #tech tbb x reader #tech lives au

12 notes · View notes