#little did I know it was easier than I thought

[nahoney22]

Hey bestie! I love your work and as I've gotten to know you better, you've been an amazing friend ❤️

I was wondering if you could do some hurt/comfort/whump with f!reader x Tech! Maybe they have crash landed or been captured together or something. Perhaps they don't necessarily get along with each other but this situation forces them to work together and they discover that maybe the other isn't so bad. ❤️ Thanks!

Crash Landed 🌊

🫧 Pairing: Tech X Female Reader

word count: 5.9k

Prompts: none

Summary: After you and Tech crash land in a remote Jungle, the two of you need to put your heads together and work as a team. Which is sometimes easier said than done.

warnings: Hurt, Angst and Comfort Whump Trope, Mentions of Injury to Reader and Tech, reader has a fear of blood, Kinda Enemies to Lovers, Reconciliation, Talks about Feelings, Huddling for Warmth, Heated First Kiss, Female Reader. Not proofread.

authors note: I love this idea! I hope I did it justice. And by the word count, clearly I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for being and amazing friend @arctrooper69 🩶

You awaken, dazed and confused, your head heavy as your eyes adjust to the dim, smoke-filled surroundings. What's that smell? Is that... smoke? What happened?

Your body aches with every movement as you manage to sit up with a hefty groan, feeling the weight of gravity pull at your limbs. Rubbing your eyes with your hands to focus, you realise that everything is on its side, the walls of the shuttle caved in, sparks flying from broken control panels. What a mess. But, you're sure you were not alone before this happened.

“Tech?” you call out, your voice croaky before you start coughing, as if your lungs had filled up with smoke.

No reply. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” you mutter to yourself as panic sets in, the memories flooding back. The mission, the Imperial's, crashing. Yes, that’s it. You crash-landed. But where? And where was Tech?

Luckily, your thoughts are answered as a torch shines in the distance, followed by loud clattering as if objects were being moved. You squint through the smoke, trying to ignore the acrid scent of burning metal. “Ah, there you are,” Tech says as he comes into view, his armor scratched, and his goggles a little skewed on his head.

“What happened?” you ask as he approaches you, another spluttering cough escaping your lips.

“If you take a look around, it will become apparent that we have crashed,” he replies. Ah yes, still a pain in the neck even after both of you nearly died.

You and Tech had rarely seen eye to eye. Since you joined the squad months ago, he always seemed to be on top of you, trying to prove you wrong or point out mistakes. It was tiresome. And now, unfortunately, you were stuck with him.

Rolling your eyes, you were in no mood for his tone and began to stand. However, as soon as you did, your leg gave way, your knees slamming to the floor. A cry of pain escaped you, making Tech look up from his cracked datapad, his eyes widening with slight concern. “Are you injured?”

“Obviously,” you grumbled in reply, stretching out your legs to assess the damage, but you didn’t see anything at first. It wasn’t until Tech crouched down in front of you that he spotted it.

“You have a laceration on your calf,” he said, his voice calm but concerned, inspecting the wound closely, and you did a double-take at his words.

“W-What? Is it bad?” You tried to hide the panic in your voice, but if there’s one thing you hated, it was blood.

Tech didn’t reply straight away, his eyes inspecting the wound closely, but your nerves began to eat away at you. “Tech, is it bleeding?” You asked quickly, your chest heaving as the fear started to creep in.

“Yes,” he confirmed, not making eye contact with you before he stood again, “I shall look for a medkit among this rubble. Stay here.” Well, it’s not like you had anywhere to go anytime soon anyway.

You wanted to call out to him, you wanted him to stay with you, but that would be inviting him to babysit you. Just because you were scared didn’t mean you wanted Tech to take care of you, which he probably would not do anyway.

Luckily, he wasn’t gone long and returned with a battered medkit. Some vials were smashed inside, and some tools were of no use, but you were glad that the bandages were untarnished. You had to look away as he started to dress your leg, cutting away the loose fabric to your pants before he skillfully wrapped it up. “That should do for now. Can you stand? We need to get out of here as it wouldn't surprise me if this shuttle imploded at any minute.”

Comfort was not his strong suit, clearly.

“I’ll try,” you began to haul yourself up your feet, but again, you were too weak. “No, no, no, I can’t.” As you were about to fall once again, Tech tucked himself under your arm, a hand steady on your waist as he kept you up.

“I will have to carry you.”

“No!” You squeaked. No way in hell were you going to let him carry you around. No way you wanted to appear more of a burden than you already are.

He raised an eyebrow, unmoved by your objection. “This is not open to debate. You can not put weight on your leg.”

With a frustrated sigh, you relented. “Alright, fine.”

With a wince of pain shooting up your leg, Tech manages to slip his arm around your neck, hoisting you over his shoulder with little effort. Each step he makes sends a jolt of unbearable pain through your leg, but you grit your teeth, holding back any sign of distress, more focused on figuring out how the two of you will get out of this mess.

You escape the shuttle, and the scorching sun immediately washes over you, its heat oppressive and suffocating. The air is humid and sticky. Great.

"So, where are we?" you ask awkwardly, still draped over his shoulder as he trudges onward.

"Uncertain," he replies, which does nothing to ease your nerves.

After a few minutes of walking, he finally sets you down on some dry grass. The sun beats down, forcing you to shield your eyes with your hand as you survey your surroundings. From the looks of it, you’re stranded in a jungle, with a vast expanse of open water stretching out before you. You could be literally anywhere.

“I suggest we find shelter, food, and a water source promptly. Since you are in no state to do anything, this task falls upon me,” he says, not once meeting your gaze as he speaks.

"Are you trying to blame me for hurting my leg? If I'm not mistaken, Tech, you were the one who pushed us into that shuttle," you retort, anger bubbling over.

"I am not blaming you, although if it was not for your mistake on the mission I would not have had to intervene." He trails off, not seeming to care at the dirty looks being sent his way. "I am merely stating facts." He says simply, tucking his datapad into his pouch before glancing down at you.

Deciding to keep your mouth shut for now, you refrain from arguing, knowing it won’t solve anything. Instead, you let Tech take the lead because, as much as you hate to admit it, he's right. You are in no state to do anything at the moment.

Tech leaves you alone for a while, giving you one of his blasters as a precaution before returning around half an hour later, announcing he found a suitable place to set up camp. You simply nod before glancing over at the crashed shuttle. “Is there anything we can salvage from that at least?” you ask aloud, drawing Tech’s attention back to you before casting a glance over at the debris.

“Perhaps. But we will have to be quick-." Before he can finish his thoughts, a sudden explosion rips through the air as the shuttle suddenly erupts into a burst of flames, sending debris flying in all directions. You both watch in shock as the flames engulf the wreckage, leaving nothing salvageable. Never mind.

Once Tech had led you to a secluded spot under the protective canopy of towering trees. With careful movements, you managed to shift your weight onto your knees, the pain radiating from your leg causing you to bite back a wings of pain.

“You are doing it wrong.” As you went ahead and started to make a fire, Tech’s unsolicited advice on fire-building techniques went in one ear and out the other. Survival instincts was one of your specialties after all and so you ignored him as as you gathered dry twigs and leaves, arranging them meticulously into a makeshift pyre.

As Tech continued his lecture on the ‘correct way’ to build a fire, you struck the flint, the spark igniting a blaze that danced and crackled life. A triumphant smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as Tech fell silent, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on the thick backdrop of the jungle.

“As you have accomplished the fire, all we need now is some edible food and water," Tech remarked and you hummed in slight agreement.

Carefully, you leaned back and against a sturdy boulder for support as you turned your attention to Tech, whose fingers deftly navigated his datapad. "Do you think you’ll be able to contact the others?" you inquired softly, wanting to hear good news right now.

Tech's brow furrowed in concentration as he tinkered with the device, the soft glow of the cracked screen illuminating his features in the darkness. "If I can get my device to work properly and salvage the shuttle… then possibly. But…" His voice trailed off, uncertainty lingering in the air.

"You have doubts?" you pressed, concerned lacing your words as you watched him shift uneasily in his spot.

“Yes,” he says as he stands, tucking his datapad away again, “I have my doubts.”

You both fall into silence, something quite rare from Tech as he was always chattering away about something. But for now, he was quiet. Deep in thought. A part of you wished you knew what he was thinking, wondering what was happening in that marvelous mind of his and if he had thought about what would happen if you two were never found which was a reoccurring thought in yours.

“I will be back soon,” he speaks up, breaking the silence after a few minutes.

“Where are you going?” You ask, a little too quickly. But truthfully, you didn’t want to be on your own right now. Yet you didn’t want him to know that.

He watches you almost tentatively before saying, “I need to gather provisions. I will not be long.”

You didn’t protest as you watched him walk away, disappearing through the trees as nightfall approached. Sighing softly to yourself, you sat lost in thought, the flickering flames casting shifting shadows across your face as you think back to all the things you should have done on that mission. Perhaps if you didn’t let your pride get the better of you, you wouldn’t have to sit wondering when Tech will return and if either of you will make it out of here.

You don’t even remember falling asleep last night but you do remember waking up to the chill that had kept you shivering throughout the night despite sleeping by the crackling fire.

As you awaken to the gentle warmth of the morning sun filtering through the dense foliage above, a stark contrast to last night, with a heavy sigh, you sit up. You groan as your body feels more fatigued and worn out than before. Nausea washes over you as you groggily inspect your leg, the sight of the dried and bloodied bandage from the previous day making your stomach churn. Obviously, you'll need to tend to it again.

“Will you need my assistance or are you capable of tending to your own wound today?” Tech's voice cuts through the quiet morning air, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever. It's always hard to discern whether he's being genuinely helpful or simply blunt.

Deciding to handle this task yourself this time, you nod, expressing your intention to manage it alone. And even though you wanted to do it alone, Tech approaches nonetheless, the battered med kit in hand.

With Tech standing by, you cautiously remove the old bandage, your stomach turning at the sight of the open wound. Despite the lack of fresh blood, the dried remnants are enough to make you feel queasy. "You do not like blood," Tech observes, his statement pulling your attention away from the gruesome sight.

"Hm, how could you tell?" you mutter sarcastically, attempting to deflect from the discomfort.

“I have always known,” Tech responds cryptically, his expression giving nothing away as he crouches down beside you.

Curiosity piqued, you inquired further, wondering how he could have possibly known your hatred for blood. After all, you couldn't recall ever mentioning it to him before. “I… have observed your behaviour before and just so happened to pick up on it. I also recall you mentioning it to Hunter when you first joined.”

Hm, that’s… surprising.

You say nothing of it and instead allow him to take care of you. As Tech takes over, gently raising your leg and propping it over his knee, you can't help but notice the care he takes.

Despite his typically relaxed demeanor, there's a hint of concern in his actions as he tells you that you ‘may want to avert your gaze’ as he begins to peel the old bandage away.

Happily, you turn your attention to the leaves above, trying to ignore the stinging sensation spreading through your leg and the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Though, the warm breeze brushes against your exposed skin, offering a slight comfort amidst the discomfort.

“H-How does it look?” you ask, your voice strained, the anxiety evident in your tone as you feel Tech's careful movements.

“It appears that you have an infection. And I do not have the right resources to treat it.” Your heart sinks at his words, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach as you try to suppress the rising panic.

“Great.”

“I will assume that is sarcasm,” he hums before passing you his canteen, “I found a water source last night. This has been purified and suitable to drink. I suggest you do that.”

Taking the canteen from his grasp, your mouth suddenly feels dry at the thought of water. You take a sip and can’t help but grimace at the taste, the bitterness lingering on your tongue. “Are you sure it’s been purified?”

“Yes, I did not say it will taste nice.”

You roll your eyes and take another remorseful sip before passing it back to him, your mind inadvertently drifting to the state of your leg. It looked worse than you anticipated.

“Shit.” You curse under your breath as you blink away the tears, the frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. Of course, your leg would get infected. Why would a crash-landing be a stroll in the park?

“I agree with your sentiments.” Tech's voice is steady as he carefully applies a new bandage, his movements precise and calculated. “I suggest you rest.”

“No,” you shake your head adamantly, meeting his gaze with determination, “I’m not going to sit here and do nothing. I have to do something.”

He blinks at you, frowning behind his goggles. “You are in no state to do anything. You are injured and so-.”

“So I’m a hindrance?” You challenge, the frustration evident in your tone as you refuse to back down.

“In a way, yes.” He says directly, the weight of his words hanging in the air as he stands up straight after carefully placing your leg down. “Any further injury could lead to loss of limb. Or worse. We cannot risk getting that leg infected even more. Do you not think you have caused enough grievance?”

Anger bubbles at his words, yet, a part of you knew he was right. You were both in this mess because of you but sitting on the forest floor doing nothing felt like a last resort. “Can you at least just help me stand up?” you grumble, your voice tinged with frustration. “Please?”

He hesitates, seemingly torn between his concern for your well-being and his reluctance to encourage any further strain on your injured leg. However, the dejected look on your face softens his resolve, knowing that he wouldn’t hear the end of it until he complies. Reluctantly, he extends his hand, offering you the support you need to rise to your feet.

Carefully, you put slight pressure on your leg, testing its strength. Surprisingly, it isn’t as painful as it was yesterday, giving you a glimmer of hope that you might be able to move around by limping or hopping for now—especially when Tech isn’t looking.

“Thanks,” you say stiffly, folding your arms over your chest, a mix of gratitude and stubbornness in your demeanor as you watch him pick something out of his pouch and hand it over to you. “What’s this?”

He presents you with a strange-looking leaf, its unfamiliar shape and texture raising your curiosity. “It is food. Edible. It is all I could find last night but will fill us with enough nutrients for now.”

The rest of the day didn’t unfold as smoothly as you both had hoped. While Tech ventured back to the shuttle in a bid to secure a signal to reach the others, you took it upon yourself to be productive. Somehow.

With the terrain familiar to you from extensive research in your past, thoughts of herbal remedies for injuries like the one on your leg flooded your mind. So, after crafting a makeshift walking stick from a discarded branch sturdy enough to support your weight, you set off from camp, determined to gather the necessary ingredients.

Luck seemed to be on your side as you found the correct herbs and plants without much difficulty. However, your return to camp was met with an annoyed-looking Tech, his frustration evident as he started an argument for your sudden departure and for not telling him where you were since comms were dead too; coupled with his ongoing concerns about your leg.

Insisting that you were fine, you proceeded to apply the herbal remedy to your wound, wrapping it back up and allowing nature to take its course. Though Tech couldn’t help but offer snide remarks whenever you winced at the slightest movement, your remedy proved effective in easing the discomfort for a while.

Meanwhile, Tech’s attempts to establish a signal to the others had proved fruitless, only adding to his growing frustration. He was normally very composed under pressure, but his visible agitation was somewhat unsettling, leaving you feeling both concerned and also quite upset to see him this way.

As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the camp, the atmosphere between you two remained tense. While you rested against the boulder again, Tech sat with his head in his hands, visibly weighed down by the day's events.

An uncharacteristic urge to ease his burden prompted you to speak up. “Why don’t you sleep? Try again tomorrow,” you suggest, breaking the silence and drawing his gaze across the flickering flames of the fire pit.

“One of us needs to stay awake and take watch,” he insists, decided on his decision straight away.

You frown, realising that you slept through most of the previous night, which meant… “Tech, did you not sleep last night?” you ask, your concern evident in your tone.

“No.” He mutters, “Like I said, one of us needs to stay awake.”

Squinting at him, a hint of annoyance creeps into your voice. “That’s not healthy, especially when we’re stuck like this. You need to sleep or something.”

“I am used to not getting sleep on the Marauder so I do not see why this is any different,” he counters, his stance firm.

Though grateful for his commitment to keeping watch, you can’t help but feel exasperated by his stubbornness. Rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around yourself as a chill sets in. “To be fair,” you begin, “I kept waking up last night. It was way too cold.”

“Yes, I noticed,” he responds, his tone softened slightly by the acknowledgement.

“Oh,” you say softly before closing your eyes, allowing the weariness of the day to wash over you. However, you’re abruptly jolted from the verge of sleep by the sound of movement nearby. With a start, you almost jump out of your skin as Tech stands in front of you.

“Stars Tech!” You gasp, his sudden proximity shocking you. “What?”

“I want you to go to sleep.”

You blink at him.

“Okay…?”

“So,” you watch him shift, his movements awkward, “I will let you sleep beside me.”

It takes you a moment to comprehend his meaning before you pull a strange face, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion and slight amusement. “Are you asking me to cuddle you?” The thought surprises you, but oddly enough, it doesn’t sound too bad right about now.

“I would not put it so conveniently,” he says, his tone betraying a hint of discomfort, “I am merely stating that I could use my body warmth to help you sleep.”

You’re taken aback by his offer, but exhaustion soon overwhelms any reservations you may have had. “Oh… well, if you’re okay with that?”

“I would not have offered otherwise.” Tech’s smile is small but genuine, and you can’t help but softly smile back as you both sit beside one another, gazing into the flames of the fire pit. Soon, you find your eyes trailing down to his bare hands, frowning as you notice they look quite sweaty; an odd sight considering the cool evening air.

Curiosity gets the better of you, and you gaze up at his face, finding him engrossed in fixing his datapad. But something seems off—his complexion appears clammy, and there’s a flush to his cheeks.

Instinctively, you reach out and place the back of your hand to his forehead, gasping at the unexpected heat radiating from his skin. “Tech!” You squeak, startling him. “You have a fever? Why didn’t you tell me?”

He doesn’t even look at you, giving off a look like a character who had been bitten by something in those horrible horror holomovies and pretends to hide the bite. “Tech,” you say his name again, more sternly. “Are you hurt?”

He sighs, dropping his device into his lap before he lifts his arm to you, showing a bandage of his own that is stained in dry blood. “As I was maneuvering through the shuttle, I just so happened to trip and catch my arm on some jagged metal. It is nothing to fret about.”

“Oh, come off it, you’re burning up.” Tech notices the slight worry in your tone, watching you lean to your other side as you produce the herbal paste you used on yourself earlier. “Let me put this on.”

“Rest and water will do me fine-.”

“That’s funny, seeing as you just told me you’d rather me sleep than yourself.” You say with a roll of your eyes, taking a firm yet gentle hold of his arm before you start to peel the bandage away, holding down your nausea just for him.

Tech watches you with a concerned gaze. “I must insist…” he trails off as his eyes move to the sticky paste, clearly uncertain about your own remedy.

“Don’t you trust me?” You ask, and time seems to freeze as you both lock eyes, speaking silently to one another. His gaze is strong and, albeit, quite hypnotising behind his yellow-tinted goggles. But, you seem to snap out of your gaze as he replies:

“I do.”

“Well,” you say, clearing your throat as you drop your gaze to his arm, “let me help you.”

You’re gentle with your movements, applying the remedy over his arm with precision. You could feel his stare on your face, and so you slowly looked back up at him, his face so near you could almost feel the warmth of his breath dancing on your skin. “See? That should help with the pain,” you find yourself whispering.

For once, the two of you didn’t seem to be at each other's necks, both of you seeming to try and read each other’s thoughts. Tech was not the best at reading feelings, and as you gaze into his eyes, you find yourself not being able to read his too.

Eventually, you look away. An unusual heat started to crawl up your neck, and you didn’t think it was from the flame from the fire or his ‘body warmth’ as he put it. Lack of sleep and lack of food and water. That had to be it.

“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, Tech?” You ask again as the drowsiness from before seeps back, and Tech turns his head away from you, inspecting his arm quietly before picking up his datapad once more.

“I am sure.”

The next day unfolded much like the one before it.

Tech grumbled about your mobility, his attempts to fix up the shuttle yielding no results, and the air between you both grew heavy with unspoken tension.

Yet, as nightfall descended once again, you found yourself nestled beside Tech, his warmth offering a rare respite, allowing you to drift into a peaceful sleep. And miraculously, your homemade remedy seemed to work wonders on both of you. You could now move with a bit more ease, and the infections on your injuries had cleared up.

But as you stared into the dancing flames that night, a wave of sorrow washed over you.

“You were right, you know?” you whispered into the night, the warmth of the fire casting flickering shadows on your face.

“About what?” Tech responded, his eyes fixed on his datapad, the soft glow illuminating his features.

Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes, and you struggled to keep them at bay, feeling utterly helpless. “That it was my fault… with the mission. If I had just let you do the data transfer instead of insisting I could do it then…” Your voice faltered, choked by a sob that escaped your lips, startling Tech. “Then we would’ve made it out in time! A-and the others… Tech, we don’t even know if they’re alive!”

Tech stared at you wide-eyed, your sudden outburst of emotion catching him off guard. Yet, amidst your tears streaming down your face and your hands clasped over your head, he uttered your name softly, “Mistakes happen.”

“But they don’t with you, Tech!” you cried, turning to face him. “You’re always so good, so perfect at everything you do, and I… I just wanted to prove myself to you! I always feel like I am not good enough for you, and that’s why you don’t like me.”

For a moment, the crackling of the fire was the only sound between you, the flames casting a warm glow on both of your faces. Tech's expression softened as he regarded you with understanding.

“Not liking you, is not something that ever crossed my mind,” he finally said, his voice low. “You were determined, and that is a trait that is to be commended. It is true, I often find it easier to rely on myself but I am programmed that way. But you, you gave it your all, and that is commendable. Do not be so hard on yourself.”

You sniffle, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The tears keep escaping your eyes, trailing down your cheeks as you struggle to contain your emotions. "But… because of me, you’re stuck here?"

Tech’s gaze softens, his eyes reflecting understanding. His voice carries a comforting warmth as he responds, “I am aware. But think how you would be if I were not here.”

Your mind whirls with the possibilities of what could have been, but you still feel terrible. "But we may not see the others again… we may not ever leave here." Your voice trembles with the weight of uncertainty, your heart heavy with guilt.

Tech’s gaze shifts away, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he adjusts his goggles. "We have to adapt to survive, we always have. And regarding the others, the probability of their survival is 89%. It is likely they are out there looking for us. And if I get the shuttle repaired enough to get a connection, I can send a signal and hope they pick up our coordinates.” His voice carries a note of determination.

You cling to his words like a lifeline, a glimmer of hope flickering in the depths of your despair. How could you have been so stupid? But, his words held promise but you can’t help but ask: "Promise me you’re not lying to me?"

“I have not once ever lied to you and I would not start now.” His response is steady, his words a soothing balm to your battered soul.

As your tears slowly subside, a tentative smile graces your lips. "Thanks Tech,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “I bet I look a mess right now. I’m a pretty ugly cryer.”

Tech’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he searches for the right words. "No, you look…” He trails off, his gaze lingering on your tear-streaked face. He reaches out, his touch feather-light as he gently brushes away a stray tear that glistens on your lashes.

“What?” you prompt, your breath catching in your throat at his unfamiliar touch as you meet his gaze.

“Like you,” he finishes, a little awkward but his words were imbued with sincerity as he offers you a small smile.

Emotion wells up inside you, a tidal wave of gratitude and affection crashing over you. Without a second thought, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. He freezes for a moment, taken aback by the sudden intimacy, before tentatively returning the hug, his arms encircling you in a protective cocoon.

As you’re wrapped in each other's embrace, you find solace; a fleeting moment of peace.

As sleep beckons, you can’t help but nestle closer to him, finding comfort in his presence as you drift off into the realm of dreams, his steady heartbeat a lullaby.

In the days that followed, a significant improvement became evident. Tech’s progress on the shuttle repair was slow, hampered by the absence of his proper tools. Despite the challenges, both of your injuries had begun to heal, and the atmosphere in camp had lightened considerably.

Although the water still tasted like dirt, you were no longer dehydrated. Discovering some rare fruits that proved not to be poisonous added to the uplifting spirit.

At night, neither of you seemed to mind huddling for warmth. You would lay against him, listening to the plans and stories he had, especially if you begged him to tell you. Although they were very matter-of-fact and not overly entertaining, you found the tales of the squad before you joined enjoyable. You both no longer bickered, clearing the air of past arguments, and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. Although it was not like either of you had any other options.

But that’s not the only thing that had changed. You found yourself getting nervous around Tech. A good kind of nervous. When he was working on the shuttle, you couldn’t help but sit back and admire him at work. He was attractive, sure, but you found him more than that. He listened intently to you, offering advice and tips without seeming to mansplain to you.

So that night by the fire again, sitting by his side, you weren’t so surprised about the next set of events.

“What are you going to do when we leave this place?” You ask, your body twisting to face him as you rest your elbow against the boulder, hand on the side of your head as you lean yourself up to look at him.

He smiles, noticing how you said ‘when’ and not ‘if’, highlighting your trust in him. “I will most likely do what I usually do, get ready for the next mission set for us.”

You roll your eyes. “You don’t want to celebrate?”

“Celebrate what, exactly?”

“Well,” you start with a soft laugh, “us finally putting our differences aside and not killing each other for one.” You suggest, earning a fond chuckle from the clone before continuing. “And surviving.”

He thinks for a moment, looking into the flames and then at you. “I suppose those are adequate reasons to celebrate, yes. Will the others be joining?”

“Sure,” you say with a smile but there’s a small swirl in your stomach as you say, “unless… you don’t want them to join us?”

Tech blinks, and for a second, it was like he was short-circuiting as he thinks about your proposal. Was it flirtation in your tone or had he imagined it? “I do not mind either way,” he explains, his chest slightly puffing out. “It would be nice to perhaps talk like this in a more formal setting elsewhere. Just us.”

You silently suck in a deep breath, a shy glint in your eyes. “I think I’d like that, yeah.” Your tone lowered, and you can’t help but notice that Tech had turned his body more to face you. Then, his eyes flickered to your lips as you inadvertently licked them, chapped but tinged with the sweetness of the fruit before.

You hold his gaze, slightly tilting your head as you take a gamble and look to his lips, then to his eyes. It was an invitation, and you hoped that Tech got the hint.

And he did.

Slowly, he sets his datapad to one side, finally letting it go as he focuses all of his attention on you. There’s a charge in the air, and you see him lean closer... and closer…

Your breath hitches, eyes slowly falling shut as he closes the distance, his nose brushing against yours before his lips meet your own in a soft, shy kiss. Leaning more into it, your hand finds refuge on his leg whilst one of his hands comes up and cups your cheek.

You sigh into him, heart racing as you feel him grow bolder. His lips, warm and inviting, meld with yours, igniting a spark that you both had been unknowingly kindling. His touch sends shivers down your spine as the kiss deepens, becoming more desperate, more intense. The jungle, the planet, the whole star system around you seems to fade away.

Tech utters your name against your lips, your soft moan of a response allowing his tongue into your mouth, exploring, igniting a fiery passion within you.

Gently, he lays you down by the fire, the crackling flames casting dancing shadows across his face. He pulls away for a moment, pulling his goggles off his face as he peers down at you, his eyes a dance of different emotions. “You are enchanting.”

But with a hunger that can no longer be contained, he crashes his lips back to yours, now allowing you to let your tongue meet his in a fervent dance; fingers tangling in his untamed hair meanwhile his hands roam over your body.

The next day brought a breakthrough. Tech managed to gain contact.

Overwhelmed by joy, you ran into Tech’s arms, jumping and letting him spin you around with a chuckle as you knew both of you would soon be saved! And better yet, the others were alive and safe too.

“I can’t believe you did it! You really did it.” You grin at him as he pulls back from the hug but does not let you down, instead cradles you in his arms.

“You seem surprised.”

“Oh Tech,” you say adoringly, leaning forward and giving his lips a soft kiss, smiling as he hums against your lips.

“I will never get tired of you kissing me,” he utters, truly in awe of how this sudden turn of events had happened. It was quick, but neither of you seemed to mind.

Last night was magic. All the bad memories had faded from your mind, solely just focusing on Tech and yourself. When all hope had seemed lost, your mistake led you to one of the best choices you ever could make. And maybe, that promised date would become something more.

Masterlist is pinned😊

Tags: @thiswitchloves9904 @lulalovez @the-bad-batch-baroness @photogirl894 @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @greaser-wolf @tinyreadersmur @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix x @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @chrissywakingup p @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter r @erellenora @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @lamiliani

#bad batch tech x reader #tech x reader #the bad batch tech #tbb tech x reader #nahoney22 writes #bad batch tech #tbb tech #tech bad batch #the bad batch #tbb

[illdowhatiwantthanks]

Don't Lie to Me

Emily Prentiss x fem!reader Warnings: life-threatening situations including a bomb and a Branch Davidians-style cult compound, established relationship, hurt/comfort, explicit language, slight emetophobia warning (nothing graphic) Word Count: 2.8k

Summary: You thought Emily was just going out on a typical case until you heard about the standoff at the religious compound. You knew her job was dangerous, but this is a whole new level of terrifying. And you can do nothing but wait. Takes place during S4.E3.

Emily stabbed at the last bit of scrambled egg on her plate and pointed it at you.

"I'd bet my life those kids are being abused," she said, chewing.

You took her plate to the sink, washing up from the early breakfast you'd made to send Emily off on a new case.

"I mean, isn't that kind of the whole point of cults?" you asked, scrubbing at the plates.

"It certainly seems like it." Emily walked over and placed an arm at the small of your back. "Thank you for breakfast. Do you need any help cleaning up?"

"No, I'm okay." You liked the repetitive nature of dishwashing. "You know," you thought out loud, "I was in a cult once."

Emily froze and stared at you, blazer halfway on. "What!?"

"Not that kind of cult. And I got out pretty quick. But... I did believe a lot of crazy things, and I was asked to do some illegal shit."

"Y/N, what!?" she said, slinging her go-bag over her shoulder, reluctant to leave. "What kind of crazy things?"

"Oh, I don't know," you said, drying your hands. "I carried anointing oil around for a while. And I thought shadows in corners were demons. Turns out that's just how light works."

Emily placed her hands on your shoulders, a slightly stunned expression on her face. "I have to go, but we will pick this up later because, Y/N, what!? A cult!?" She shook her head and kissed you, then once again on the forehead for good measure.

"It was just a little cult!" you joked, as she walked toward the door. "It's way easier to get dragged in than you'd think. I consider myself a pretty smart person, and even I fell for some of that bullshit."

"Mmkay," she said, leaning in the doorway. "Well, I'll do my best not to join a cult this week, but no promises."

You rolled your eyes at her. "I love you, Em. Be safe."

"Love you too, honey," she said. "See you in a few days."

You shook your head as the door shut behind her. You didn't tell many people about your "cult year," as you liked to call it, because it hadn't been nearly as extreme as most cults were and because you'd gotten out quickly. But, god, you'd believed in some stupid things. The confluence of moving to a new place, developing a severe mental illness, and falling wildly in love with the girl who was second in command had been a perfect recipe for cultish devotion. No matter. You'd made it out. And, well, fool me twice...

______________________________________________________________

Part of the beauty of working from home is that you could do whatever you wanted most of the day–no pants, no bra, watching the news or TV during lunch, calling Emily whenever you wanted.

You made yourself a sandwich and sat on the couch, turning on the news so that you could fiddle around with your laptop but still have some background noise.

You were scrolling through an article on the best laundry detergents when the reporter mentioned something about La Plata County. You glanced up and turned up the volume. Wasn't that where Emily and Spencer were?

"What is reportedly being called a routine questions and answers meeting by Colorado Child Services has turned into a violent and deadly standoff between Colorado authorities and a fringe religious group known as the Separatarian Sect. The raid on the compound..."

Your heart started to pound. Maybe you'd gotten the name of the county wrong, and Emily wasn't even close. But she had said she was visiting a religious compound and that she was going with Children's Services...

Breathing rapidly, you pulled out your phone and called Emily. Straight to voicemail. You called her again. No answer. You tried to calm yourself down–no need to panic until you knew for sure. You sent Emily a quick text:

Hey love💕 You haven't been forced into a Waco situation have you? The news is going CRAZY. Please text or call when you get a second so I know you're okay. I love you❤️

You moved your work stuff into the living room, piling it on the coffee table and keeping the volume on the news up. You felt sick to your stomach, but tried to stay calm. There was no reason to think Emily was there. Colorado was a huge state. Probably dozens of religious sects. Why would she be at that one? But the longer you went without a text or call from Emily, the more anxious you grew.

______________________________________________________________

You managed to make it about three hours before losing your goddamned mind with worry. You texted Emily again, called her again, left her an angry voicemail about how people shouldn't worry their girlfriends like this, all with no response. You'd tried Derek, too, but no luck.

Your leg bounced up and down, and you could feel tears forming at the corners of your eyes. You found one of Emily's sweatshirts in the hamper and pulled it over your shirt, balling yourself up on the couch and breathing in the scent of her. She's okay, you told yourself over and over. She's okay, she's okay, she's okay.

A breaking news alert on the TV prompted another update on the La Plata County situation. Your head shot up, and you turned the volume up, not wanting to miss a thing.

"...tactical team into a forced retreat after losing a 30-minute gun battle with sect members. Nobody knows for sure how many people are inside, but it is believed that at least three of the child service members are still trapped in the compound."

You didn't sleep that night. Not even for a moment. You sat on the couch late into the night, waiting for updates on the standoff. With each hour that passed without contact from Emily, you were more and more sure that it was her and Spencer in the compound. You'd tried calling a few more times, but the calls seemed pointless, knowing where she was. You'd waited until a decent hour the next morning to call other team members again–Derek, Penelope, JJ. No one had answered, and you'd only grown more terrified. You were scared to know for sure, but you needed to.

You looked down at your phone and took a deep breath, looking at the one number you'd resisted calling so far: Hotch. You knew Emily'd given you his number for emergencies only, but what was this if not an emergency?

The phone dialed for a few moments before picking up.

"Hotchner."

"Where is she!?" you demanded, all the emotion and fear you'd been putting off for the last day rushing to the forefront.

"Y/N," he sighed, and you could tell just by his voice. "She's–"

"Don't lie to me, Hotch! She's in that compound, isn't she?"

Hotch's words were calm, determined. "We're gonna get her out."

"Don't lie to me." Your voice shook, tears slipping down your face.

"Y/N, I swear to you, I will get her out."

"Okay," you whispered, feeling small and scared.

"I'll call as soon as I can to let you know she's okay, but it's gonna take some time."

"Thank you." You dashed tears from your eyes, sniffling.

"Of course."

The line clicked off and you sat in stunned silence for a few minutes, watching the repeated footage of the compound flash by on the TV. Emily was in there. Emily was in there. And there wasn't a damn thing you could do about it.

You paced back and forth for a while, waiting and waiting for news updates, then decided that all this waiting was futile. If Emily couldn't get home to you, you'd go to her. You booked yourself on the next flight to Durango, packed just the essentials, and ran out the door, filling Sergio's bowl and making a mental note to text a friend to check in on him if you were gone for more than a day or two.

______________________________________________________________

The hours you were in the air–with nothing but shitty airplane WiFi service–were the worst for you. You refreshed the live news page over and over again, terrified that at any moment, you'd hear news of a mass death.

When you finally got to Durango that night, you drove the rental car as close to the compound as you could, but ATF had it locked down for miles. For now, this was a close to Emily as you could get.

You booked a nearby hotel and, still wrapped in Emily's sweatshirt, sat moon-faced and bleary-eyed on the edge of the bed, watching the news, and waiting, waiting, waiting.

You'd nearly drifted off to sleep when the room filled with a blinding white-orange light. Your eyes grew wide as you watched the screen. The compound went up in flames, debris flying far and wide.

"Oh my god," you said, covering your mouth. "Oh my god."

You ran to the bathroom and vomited, then sat on the cool floor, shaking. You coughed as you hyperventilated, unable to get enough air into your lungs. You wrapped your hands around your head, rocking. There was no way. No way someone would have survived an explosion like that.

You felt like your heart was being ripped apart. It was the hope that hurt the most. The maybe she hadn't been in there? But almost certainly she was. Maybe she was okay? But probably she wasn't. Most likely, she didn't even exist anymore, had gone up in smoke with the rest of the compound, the thought of which made you vomit again. You couldn't fathom it, couldn't envision a world without Emily. You needed her. You hunched on the floor of the hotel room, leaning into the bed, and waited. Waited for news of Emily's death. You hoped that Hotch would call you first. It'd be so much easier to hear it from him, but the reporters were like vultures, and they often got the news first.

______________________________________________________________

At the compound, a deeply battered Emily, now running out of adrenaline, leaned heavily on Hotch as he walked her to an ambulance.

"You don't have to come with me," she told him, her voice gravelly. "It's not that bad."

"Prentiss, you can barely walk," Hotch protested, watching in concern as she winced climbing into the ambulance. "I wish you'd get on a stretcher."

"I am on a stretcher." Emily gave him a little wave from where she now lay, an EMT strapping her in and taking her vitals.

"I meant before now." Hotch smiled slightly. His team was beat up, but they'd be okay.

He pulled out his phone, scrolling through his contacts. "You need to make a call," he told Emily, putting the phone on speaker as it dialed.

"Oh, god," Emily groaned. "She's gotta be worried sick."

When you picked up, your voice was timid, rough with emotion.

"Hotch?" you whispered, terrified of what he might tell you.

"Hi, honey," Emily said, her voice heavy with love and exhaustion. It hit her, all of a sudden, that there was a good chance she might not have made it out. That she would never have seen you again. The thought brought tears to her eyes.

"Em!" you cried between sobs. "Are you okay!? Are you hurt!?"

"I'm a little banged up, but I'll make it."

"You scared the shit out of me!" you yelled, equal parts furious at her for putting her life in danger and relieved that she was okay. Emotions tumbled through your body like ocean waves.

Emily smiled and wiped a few tears from under her eyes. "I know. I'm sorry."

"Is Spencer there? Is he okay, too?"

Emily exhaled shakily. "Yeah, he's fine. We're all fine."

"Where are you?"

"Uh, in an ambulance."

"Which hospital are they taking you to?" you asked, pulling on your shoes and grabbing your keys off the hotel desk.

"Mercy?" Emily said, repeating what the EMT told her.

"I'll meet you there."

"No, honey, you don't need to come all the way here," Emily protested. "I'm okay. I'll be home in a few days."

"I'm already here, Em. Don't even try to fight me on this."

"You're here!? In Colorado?!"

"At a hotel. As close to the compound as I could get."

"You came?" Emily confirmed, her voice quiet, like she couldn't quite believe someone would love her enough to be there.

"Emily," you breathed. "Of course I did."

A few tears escaped Emily's eyes, and Hotch looked away.

"Now," you said, clearing your throat and trying to pull yourself together. "Please, please, let the doctors take care of you. I'll be there soon, okay?"

"Okay," she sniffled.

"I love you."

"I love you, too," Emily said, before hanging up and handing the phone back to Hotch.

The EMT handed her a paper towel to use as a tissue and she laughed, dabbing at her eyes and nose. "Thanks," she said.

Hotch smiled, watching her.

"What?" she said.

"She really loves you."

"I know."

______________________________________________________________

At the hospital, Emily heard you before she saw you. You were the first thing she heard after waking up from surgery, and she couldn't help but smile. You were giving the nurses a run for their money, which was saying something. You were usually so patient, so accommodating. Not today.

"Look," you railed at the nurse's station. "I've been in the waiting room for hours! I have been awake for three days straight, and my girlfriend has been a cult hostage that whole time! I am not in the mood to be held hostage too! Take me to her now, or I swear to god I will get the fucking FBI director on the line."

Emily's face brightened when you came in the room, but yours fell. She looked awful. Her face was bruised and swollen, bandages covered her body, and her arm was in a cast.

"Oh, Em," you said, your voice breaking, as you grabbed her hand, pressing your palm gently to her cheek.

"I'm okay." But she wasn't, and you could tell.

"It's okay, baby," you reassured her, running your fingers gently through her hair. "You don't have to be okay now, alright? I'm here. I'm here to take care of you."

Her breath hitched, and you could tell she was fighting off tears. It broke your heart. She always felt like she needed to be strong. It was time to let someone else be strong for a change.

You lowered the railing of the hospital bed, and lifted yourself in, gently pulling Emily into you. She grasped desperately at your shirt and fought off sobs.

"Shh," you whispered, cradling her head. "Let it out, love. I'm right here. You're safe now."

You held her while she cried, heartbroken that she'd been so scared and so hurt and, yet, proud that she handled it like no one else in the world could. And for neither the first time nor the last, you felt the immense weight and honor of being someone Emily Prentiss felt safe enough to break down with.

When she quieted, you rocked her and held her and placed small, gentle kisses on her head, trying to convey all your love for her, all your protectiveness toward her through osmosis.

You remembered, quite suddenly, the last conversation you'd had before Emily left, about cults.

"I told you," you whispered, giggling.

"Told me what?"

"That it was easy to get dragged into a cult."

"That is not the same," Emily argued, playfully shoving you. "I was held hostage. You were just dumb."

"Ouch."

"You didn't hoard weapons or anything, did you?"

"No," you scoffed. "Of course not."

"Well, what'd you do?" she pressed.

"What do you mean?"

"You said you did some illegal shit in the cult, so what did you do?"

"Oh," you laughed. "Nothing too serious. We bugged some people's rooms, recorded conversations."

"...Why?"

"We thought they were in cahoots with the devil."

Emily laughed, then grabbed her ribs, wincing. "'Cahoots with the devil!?' God, I'm so glad I found you after your religious days."

"What can I say? You get the very best of me."

Emily beamed up at you, pulling you down by your collar to kiss you. You stayed gentle and soft, mindful of her split lip and bruised face.

You held your forehead to hers, breathing in her scent. That familiar Emily scent that you'd been so sure you'd never get again.

"Don't ever scare me like that again," you whispered.

"I won't," Emily said, burying her face in your chest.

"Don't lie to me."

You felt her smile into your skin. "I'll try."

You sighed and grinned. "I guess that'll do. But only because I love you so much."

#emily prentiss #emily prentiss x reader #emily prentiss x fem!reader #criminal minds #criminal minds fanfic #emily prentiss fanfic #emily prentiss one shot #emily prentiss drabble

[memphisflash]

𝑇𝑟𝑜𝑝𝑖𝑐𝑎𝑙 𝑇𝑒𝑚𝑝𝑡𝑎𝑡𝑖𝑜𝑛𝑠

Pairing: Elvis Presley x reader

Word count: 8,9K

Summary: Visiting your sister and her boyfriend in Hawaii, you find yourself falling harder and deeper for your brother-in-law. And it seems like Elvis can't resist you either...

Warnings: club singer!elvis, mentions of/infidelity, arguing, lil bit of angst, strong language, alcohol consumption, reader pining over Elvis, reader being in love with her sister's boyfriend, mention of reader being slim, smut; unprotected sex, penetration, oral (f. receiving), size kink-ish.

A/N: This used to be a piece of writing called "Little Sister" I wrote a long time ago on my old account, but I changed a few things (mostly in the smutty part) and wanted to share it again. Was inspired by a very nsfw gif I saw (seriously, don't look at the gif that's linked if there's people around you) and I couldn't stop thinking about it, so here we are. ;) There's more to it than the summary entails, and beware of the shitty written ending because y'all know I hate writing endings.

Masterlist

Your heart was racing as you were dragging your suitcase along through the airport of Honolulu.

Finally your parents had allowed you to visit your older sister who lived and worked in Hawaii during your four weeks of summer holidays and you were beyond excited.

Excited to leave the stress of deadlines and annoying frat boys behind and settle in a new environment for a few weeks.

The fact that you would be seeing Elvis Presley, your brother in law, again certainly had nothing to do with the excitement you felt tingling in your stomach. At least, that’s what you told yourself and the longer you’d deny your feelings toward him, the more you’d start to believe your own lies.

That was until you were face to face with him again─it was much easier to hide your feelings toward him from a different state.

And the fact that you and him kissed a year ago didn’t really help your nerves to see him again either.

It happened while you were both drunk and neither of you had spoken a word about it, but it did happen and after the hangover from hell you fought off that next morning, it was all you could think about.

Luckily for you, your sister and her boyfriend moved to Hawaii not even a week later and maybe if they wouldn’t have, you would’ve never kissed him. It’s not like you thought you’d never see him again, but you just figured that your sister was too busy with her new job as a tour guide and wouldn’t invite you and your parents over until Christmas time. Seemed like Tracy missed you more than you expected, as she had basically begged you to come live with her for those few weeks of your summer break─she even managed to convince your parents to come alone.

Despite you being 20, they were still overprotective over you. Your sister was only three years older, but she had always been a bit more of a rebel, not caring that your parents weren’t too happy with her moving all the way to Hawaii with a man she had only been dating for a few weeks at that time. Apparently things between Elvis and her were still well, seeing they had passed their one year anniversary a few weeks ago.

“Welcome to Hawaii, little one,” Elvis greeted you with a wide smile on his face as you stepped out of the airport, trying to ignore the heat surrounding you as if you just stepped into a sauna.

Your heart did about ten somersaults against your ribcage and you were pretty sure your cheeks were flushed. If Elvis noticed your state of slight shock, he didn’t comment on it and instead, placed a colorful lei around your neck before he took your suitcase from you.

“Where’s Tracy? I thought she was picking me up,” you questioned curiously as you watched him open the trunk of his car to put your luggage in it. Your sister failed to tell you that her boyfriend was picking you up and to any normal person, that would’ve been fine, but you just had to fall for a guy that was already taken.

By your own sister, for crying out loud.

You had no idea how long the drive from the airport to your sisters’ apartment would be, but you were pretty sure you wouldn’t survive even five minutes alone in a car with him.

The raven haired man shut the trunk and leaned his hands on it, feigning a shocked facial expression. “I thought you liked spending time with your brother,” he grinned, making sure you knew he was playing with you but it still made heat crawl up your neck and face.

You hated when he called himself your brother─the fantasies about him that plagued your mind at night certainly weren’t meant for a brother.

“She had to run some errands to get everything ready for you,” he then said, smiling at you as he opened the door of the passengers’ seat, looking at you. You inhaled some air, though it did nothing to loosen up the tightness you felt in your chest.

If the heat of the island wasn’t going to take you out, those stupid blue eyes of his definitely were.

“Alright,” you mumbled softly, flashing him a quick smile as you got in the car, making sure not to let the smell of his cologne make your mind go places it definitely shouldn’t be going.

“How is your work going? Do you like Hawaii?” you asked as he drove away from the airport and onto the high way.

You were nervous, but you were trying your best not to let it show and make him suspicious. You didn’t want him to think you accepted Tracy’s offer to come just for him, because even though that was one of the (main) reasons, you’d rather throw yourself out of the car than to have him know that.

He looked at you for a second with a little grin on his face before he turned back to the road, his arm casually leaning on the open window frame, fingertips tapping on the wheel.

“Hawaii is amazing, can’t even imagine myself going back anymore,” he laughed softly, which made you smile softly as you looked at the view ahead of you.

You’d missed the sound of his laugh.

You could understand why he didn’t wanted to go back. You had only seen the airport and some of the scenery from the high way, but it already felt like a place that was soothing for the soul. Beautiful weather, beautiful people and gorgeous nature all around─you couldn’t wait to see more of it.

“I’m sure you will love it just as much as we do,” he says and while you just smiled and nodded, but on the inside you were screaming.

We.

Elvis and Tracy─God, you could just bust your head through the window right there and then when the word rolled off of his tongue so casually.

So naturally.

You wanted to be part of that ‘we’, of that ‘us’.

Y/N and Elvis.

Elvis and Y/N.

You wanted it so bad.

“And work… is work,” he then adds, snapping you out of your thoughts, which honestly you were grateful for. You had to get rid off those feelings you carried toward him, but he was making it so damn hard.

Why did he have to look so good with that sunkissed skin, blue eyes and dark hair?

Before you were going to start to curse God for creating Elvis Presley, you snapped yourself out of it.

“You’re a singer in one of Honolulu’s most famous clubs, there’s gotta be more to it!” you laughed, slapping his arm playfully.

As he looked at you with a grin on his face and a hint of playfulness in his eyes, you immediately regretted what you had done.

He grabbed onto your knee and squeezed it, all-in good humor, but you felt as if electricity was shooting down your spine.

“Someone did her homework,” he laughed, lingering his fingertips on your knee for longer than necessary. Bare knee, might you add, seeing you were wearing shorts.

Oh, please Y/N.. control yourself.

“I was playin’. It’s fun, it’s real fun and it pays well. I’m definitely taking you there one of these days,” he smiles as he pulled his hand back nonchalantly, as if he hadn’t just almost made you moan out loud over a small touch.

You looked at his side profile, the thought of him taking you out to a club out of all places, got you making up all kinds of scenario’s in your mind.

You cleared your throat a little, tugging some hair behind your ear as casually as you could.

“Y-Yeah, that sounds fun. If Tracy hasn’t planned out all of my days here,” you said, half joking, half serious.

With her being a tour guide, you were sure she had made an entire itinerary for you. You hoped not─wanting to just go with the flow with and without her, enjoying yourself rather than feeling like you had to follow a schedule.

“She usually doesn’t come to the club because she has early shifts,” he told you, wiggling his eyebrows playfully at you before he looked back at the road and you chuckled softly, turning back to the gorgeous view to keep your thoughts about the gorgeous man next to you from going to very unholy places. “It’d be nice to have a familiar face cheering me on,” he said, shrugging his shoulders a little as he once again squeezed your knee.

He kept his hand there longer than before, making your skin feel like it was set on fire underneath his palm.

Once again, you just nodded and smiled.

 

When you finally stepped inside your sister and Elvis’, unfortunately, shared apartment you felt like you could breathe like a sane person again. Tracy ran out of the kitchen and into the living area Elvis took you in, engulfing you into a tight and warm embrace before you could even get out one word.

“My baby! I can’t believe you’re here!” she exclaimed in excitement and you laughed, hugging her back just as tight.

“You’re only three years older, shut up,” you rolled your eyes playfully as you pulled back from the embrace and she grabbed your face, squishing your cheeks softly.

“Ssssh, you’re still my little baby,” she shushed you, laughing when you swatted her hands away as she took you to the kitchen, handing you a drink. When she showed you the stocked up fridge and guest bedroom she cleaned spotless especially for you, you couldn’t help but feel guilt settle in your stomach.

You mind wandered back to a year ago when you and Elvis kissed at that stupid party, not even ten minutes after Tracy left it, and part of you just wanted to blurt it out and come clean. You had always been close to your sister and you wouldn’t know what to do with yourself if you would become between her and her boyfriend.

A week in Hawaii went by and Tracy nor Elvis had spend any time with you. You had dinner with both of them the day you arrived, but after that you were pretty much on your own─you didn’t mind that much, seeing you loved exploring on your own just as much.

But whenever Tracy and Elvis were home at the same time, you felt some kind of weird tension between them.

You weren’t an absolute idiot and could see when your sister was hiding something from you.

As Sunday evening rolled around, your peaceful sunny vacation was interrupted by a hurricane.

And it went by the name of Elvis.

“Don’t fuckin’ lie to me, Trace! I literally saw you yesterday,” you heard Elvis yell from the living room and you froze in your spot, watching the sunset on the windowsill seat in the guest bedroom.

“You always say you’re working, working, working,” he continued and you quickly tiptoed to the record player that was playing softly on top of the dresser, interrupting Aretha Franklin mid song. You walked over to the door and pressed your ear against it, holding your breath as you shamelessly eavesdropped on your sister and her boyfriend arguing.

“I didn’t know sticking your tongue down the throat of some wall street jerk was on the list of a tour guide’s job descriptions,” he spat at her and you heard her gasp, followed by a scoff and even though you couldn’t see her, you were absolutely sure she was crossing her arms like a child right now.

She kept her mouth shut though, and Elvis continued his little rant.

“I forgave you the first time, because it was only a week after we came to Hawaii. A week, Tracy! But you’re just never gonna change, are ya?”

You could hear his voice cracking at the end, desperation lingering on the back of his tongue and you felt your stomach tightening at his words, feeling bad for him.

Your sister was a free spirit, a soul that wasn’t meant to be bound down by one person─before Elvis, she dated someone new every month, sometimes every weekend, sometimes even multiple people at the same time.

Apparently, things between her and Elvis weren’t going so well as you had thought.

“You just like the attention too much and you’ll do anything to get it, no matter who you fuckin’ hurt in the process,” he sighed deeply and still Tracy didn’t say a word. He seemed to take her silence for an answer because you heard footsteps striding down the hall and their bedroom door slamming shut. A few minutes later, you heard the same door opening again and Elvis’s annoyed voice telling Tracy he was leaving.

As he passed by the guest bedroom, you ran over to the bed and jumped down onto it, grasping one of your magazines from the bedside table to pretend you were reading it.

You’d kinda been expecting the knock but it still made your heart thump wildly in your ears. You tried to sound as casually as you could when you granted Elvis access to the room, hoping he didn’t hear the slight tremble in your voice.

“Hey, little one,” he sighed softly, walking over to the bed as you turned around and slowly sat up. You gave him a weak smile which he returned, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

“Sorry that happened. Are you okay?” you asked in a whisper, feeling a little uneasy about the fact that he was in your room alone while Tracy was in the living room.

He didn’t share the same uneasiness though, dropping the bag he had in his hand next to his feet as he ran his hands down his face.

“I will be,” he mumbled, leaning his elbows on his knees as he kept his face cupped in his hands. “Guess I’ve just been.. blind. Last night wasn’t the first time I’ve caught her kissing some rich stuck up dude and now that I’m thinkin’ about it, I doubt that first week in Hawaii was the first time she did somethin’ like this,” he sighed deeply, shaking his head in his hands a little.

You just sat there for a few seconds, but you couldn’t bare to see him like this.

Mad at your sister and feeling bad for Elvis, you moved to sit next to him and wrapped your arm around his shoulder, ignoring how good he smelled and how his body heat felt so incredibly comforting.

“Why.. did you stay with her when you knew?” you asked carefully, trying not to step on anyone’s toes here.

Rather than getting angry at you for being curious, after all he was the one who came into your room, he just shrugged and groaned deeply, letting himself fall back on your bed after you moved your arm to place a hand on his forearm.

“I don’t know,” he looked up at the ceiling, his hands resting on his chest. “I’m… I was in love,”

You swallowed thickly at his words, looking at the door that was wide open. You could hear Tracy moving around the living room and you quickly shot up from the bed as you heard the sound of her heels clicking down the hall way, giving her your most innocent smile as she appeared in the door opening.

You busied yourself with your record player that you’d placed atop of the dresser.

Rather than looking sad or distraught about the fight she had with her boyfriend, she looked angry.

Angry that she got caught, you thought bitterly to yourself.

She ignored Elvis’ presence and looked at you, smiling softly. “I’ll be staying at a friends’ house tonight, so he doesn’t have to leave. See you tomorrow, chick.”

Blowing you a hand kiss, she turned around and grabbed her purse, leaving the apartment and making sure she slammed the door extra loud for theatrics.

You sighed deeply as you rubbed your temples a little─even though it seemed Tracy brought this upon herself, you didn’t like to see your sister in the state she was in. You were sure the fight between her and Elvis hurt her, at least a little bit, and she wasn’t really helping the situation by going out to spend the night with God knows who. Or maybe you just didn’t know your sister as well as you thought.

You also weren’t happy with the fact that she left you alone with Elvis, even though that little voice in your head was telling you to take your chance now, heart jumping for joy. You wanted to jump his bones more than anything, but the rational part of your brain stopped you, reminding you that that would even be more terrible than what Tracy had been doing behind her boyfriends’ back.

“Maybe you two just need a night apart so you can talk things out. I’m sure everything will be fine tomorrow,” you told him, trying to sound hopeful, as you sat down on the edge of your bed.

You hated saying those words.

You didn’t want things to work out between them. And you were secretly hoping, no.. praying, that Tracy was on her way to one of her boy toys right now to fuck his brains out and forget all about Elvis.

The blue eyed man on your bed let out a small laugh, shaking his head as he put his arms under his head.

“Nah uh, I’m done talkin’. I’m not some random guy she can come home to after she’s done with her little play boys,” he scrunched up his nose at his choice of words, sighing deeply.

You stayed silent for a little bit, crawling up further on the bed so you were sitting next to his head now, looking down at him.

“To be fair,” you started, pulling your legs up to wrap your arms around them. “You kinda cheated on her too,” you blurted out, not knowing where you got the courage from to make out such a bold statement.

It was the truth, though.

He kissed you while he was dating Tracy─the fact that he was drunk while doing so and they hadn’t been together for very long wasn’t an excuse.

His eyes shot open, looking up at you as you looked down at him. A soft smile spread across his face as he noticed your eyes shifting down to his lips and you quickly looked away, which made him sit up immediately.

“I told her about that night,” he said casually and you widened your eyes, your jaw almost dropping to the damn floor.

“You WHAT?!” you exclaimed in shock and he bit his tongue to try not to laugh at the shocked face expression you were wearing.

“It slipped out, alright? I just made up some lame excuse and told her I thought you were her because I was so damn drunk and she believed it,” he said with a shrug of his shoulders and you gasped softly, getting up from the bed.

Rushing your hands through your hair, you paced back and forth in front of him as he sat down on the edge of the bed.

You shook your head, placing your hands on your hips as you came to a stop in front of him.

“You can say whatever you want, but I don’t regret that kiss, Y/N. She was still messin’ around with other guys at that time and I’m a jealous motherfucker,” he smirked as he leaned his hands on the bed behind him and you tried not to look down at his thighs as he manspread so shamelessly and so confidently.

“So, what? You only kissed me because you wanted revenge on my sister? Make her jealous?” you scoffed, crossing your arms tightly in front of your chest. Elvis couldn’t help but chuckle as he thought about how similar yet different you and Tracy were. “I mean, not that I care, because it didn’t mean anything.” you quickly added, looking away from him.

He raised an eyebrow and sat up a little again, reaching his hands out to place them on your hips, pulling you closer to him.

You had to bite your tongue to hold back a squeak, your body feeling like it was set aflame when you were standing in between his long legs, your knees hitting the bed.

“Now I know that’s not true, little one,” he whispered, looking up at you with that damned smirk, hands slowly moving down the fabric of the sleeping shorts you were wearing. “I think you care more than you like to admit,” he hummed and as you felt his fingertips coming into contact with your bare skin, you found the strength in yourself to swat his hands away and take a step back, inhaling a deep breath of air.

“You’re wrong, Elvis. We kissed because we were drunk and that’s it.”

“No,” he said, his voice dropping a few octaves as he was up and in front of you, looking down at you with a small smirk on his face.

No matter how many steps you took backwards, you couldn’t escape him─your hands flew to the edge of the dresser that met your lower back and dug your nails into the wood nervously, ignoring how your heart beat was thumping in your ears.

“We kissed because there was somethin’ there. I felt it and I know you did too,” he stated boldly and you clenched your jaw so hard you wouldn’t be surprised it would dislocate.

All your senses were on high alert when his eyes were drawn to your lips, leaning in closer to you.

You knew his words were true.

There was something, a pull that always drew you closer to him and him to you.

The day Tracy brought him back to the house for dinner with your parents you were already laughing and joking with him. At first, you thought it was just innocent, as did he. Until feelings started to grow, until that damned kiss.

He knew that he wasn’t any better than Tracy in this moment, but now that he was so close to you that he could smell the scent of your shampoo and feel the warmth radiating off of your body, he couldn’t hold back anymore.

A soft gasp left your mouth as he crashed his lips onto yours and he could feel you freeze for a second, until he slid his tongue across your lower lip. You were quick to grant him the access he wanted and deepened the kiss, your arms flying around his neck. He groaned softly as he wrapped his arms around your waist, hand pressed against your back to push you up against his chest.

Alarm bells were going off in your head, but the butterflies that had errupted aggressively in your stomach made you ignore them. You were getting lost in his kiss, touch, scent and could barely think straight as he moved his knee between your legs, lifting it up to press against you.

Even though you were wearing your panties and shorts, your body immediately responded to him─getting so lost in his kiss, your hips started moving slowly, arousal growing as you grinded yourself on his knee. His hands moved to your hips, holding you down onto him firmly as he helped your movements along, groaning deeply in your mouth. You gasped softly and pulled from the kiss, eyes slowly fluttering open.

As he looked at you with a soft grin tugging at his lips, blue eyes twinkling with a mixture of arousal and mischievous, you suddenly realised what you were doing, and with who, and quickly placed your hands against his shoulders, pushing him off of you.

“I can’t… W-we can’t do this, Elvis,” you breathed out in shock, rushing a hand through your hair as you pushed yourself to stand straight, not giving him a chance to speak as you ran out of the room.

You slipped into your shoes by the door, grasping your denim jacket before you left the apartment in a hurry─you had absolutely no idea where you were going, but you needed some time alone.

Time away from Elvis and his abilities to only make you fall for him harder than you should’ve in the first place.

 

Another week had passed and you hadn’t seen Elvis since that night.

He was gone by the time you came back to the apartment and every time he’d come by to pick up his things, you’d hide out on the balcony with some of Tracy’s friends that seemed to be coming over to hang out more and more, or you were out and about, exploring Honolulu.

You still had not told Tracy about what happened and you also hadn’t talked to her about the fact that she did know about you and Elvis kissing back at home. She also did not mention it and you couldn’t help but feel awkward whenever you were alone with her.

You felt like you were walking on egg shells 24/7.

Your sister either didn’t feel it herself or didn’t comment on it and continued as she always did─she didn’t seem as bothered by the break up as she should, filling up any voids with those ‘wall street jerks’ as Elvis had called them.

Rich, preppy guys that came from New York to Hawaii for business, but were too busy with pleasure instead.

Tracy seemed to have a thing for them, but you hated them. When Tracy arranged a date with one of them for you, you were livid at her but you knew she wouldn’t drop it until you’d say yes, so you eventually accepted just so you wouldn’t have to listen to her going on and on about how much of a great guy this one was.

The wall street guy, going by the name of David, took you to a nightclub named The Clouds. The most current famous one on the whole island, thanks to a certain dark haired blue eyed man you were definitely not ready to face any time soon.

None of your excuses worked on David and he barely listened to you, seeming adamant to get inside of the place. The whole time you were standing in line to get in you were praying to every God that was out there, that Elvis wouldn’t be working tonight.

Maybe it was his night off and he was hanging out with his friends somewhere else, or maybe he had a cold and was sick in bed.

As always, the universe didn’t listen to you and you didn’t even gave yourself a chance to look at the pretty and fancy interior of the place, your eyes glued to the man on the stage, drawing everyone’s attention to him.

His hair was perfectly slicked back, the all black suit he was wearing looking so goddamn gorgeous with that flawless sunkissed skin and bedroom eyes that had every lady in the place hanging on the edge of their seat.

You didn’t even stop your date as he slipped his hand into yours and guided you through a small crowd of dancing people, finding you two a table. While he spotted one and tugged you along, all you could do was stare at Elvis and let your knees grow weaker by the second. Tracy was nowhere on your mind and David sure as hell wasn’t either─until the blonde man snapped you out of it by pulling your chair out and releasing your hand. You looked at him with a confused look on your face, reality slowly creeping its way back in.

“He’s pretty good, isn’t he?” He yelled over the music as you both were seated, pointing a casual thumb Elvis’ way on the stage.

You flashed him a quick smile and nodded, thanking the Heavens when a waitress swung by your table to take your order.

You ordered the strongest cocktail on the menu and tried to engage in conversation with the man in front of you, but the fact that the man you actually loved was catching the attention of all those beautiful girls on the dance floor and David only talked about numbers and money didn’t help to make this evening at least somewhat eventful at all.

You were bored out of your mind, so you decided to seek comfort in your trusty new friend for the evening─your fourth martini.

The slight buzz helped you to forget David’s stories as soon as he finished telling them and even though the man could see you weren’t having a good time, he wasn’t going to give up.

His big ego wouldn’t allow himself to have a failed date.

He grabbed your hand from across the table and you looked at him, squinting your eyes as he rubbed the back of your hand sweetly. He was talking to you─you could see his mouth moving, but your tipsy mind couldn’t make out the words he was actually saying. You bursted out in laughter, thinking it was the most hilarious thing ever and when the waitress came by again, you immediately ordered another round, not caring about David’s protest.

Elvis’ performance was done and when you noticed him hopping off of the stage and making his way to the bar, you looked at David and grabbed your clutch from the table, pointing a finger at him – not even knowing the reason for doing so. He reached his hands out to you when you swayed on your feet, ready to catch you.

It looked as if you were going to say something, but then seemed to forget about it and just laughed before you stumbled away from the seat, giggling at your own antics.

“I’ll have my drink at the bar, pretty lady!” you told the waitress who was still standing by your table and she just laughed as you hooked your arm through hers, letting her guide you to the bar, leaving a flabbergasted David behind.

The waitress left you behind at the bar for one of the bartenders to deal with you and you smiled sweetly at the man as he placed the martini you wanted in front of you. You rumbled through your clutch for a little bit, though before you could pay for your drink, you heard the bartender thanking the person who took his place next to you.

You frowned sassily as you looked up and at the person, letting out a scoff, even adding an eye roll for show. “I can pay for my own drinks, thank you very much,” you told the delicious piece of a human being that just paid for your drink.

Elvis chuckled softly, taking a sip of his own drink as he leaned against the bar with his body turned into your direction.

“Doesn’t look like it,” he said teasingly, watching you messily shove your dollar bills back into your clutch. You blew a strand of hair out of your face and stole a cigarette out one of the small wooden boxes that stood on the bar for the people to take, lighting it with a match.

“Don’t you have to do your little dance up there to make aaall the girls swoon over you?” you mocked, throwing a sarcastic smile his way before you took a drag from the cigarette, leaving a lipstick print behind on the bud.

You were still extremely in love with him, but the amount of alcohol in your system made you mouthy─vodka had never been your best friend.

“If I saw right, you were enjoying it too, little one,” he hummed in your ear when he took a step closer to you, slipping his arm around your waist. You had to do your best not to leap into a coughing fit, quickly blowing out the smoke from between your lips. “What are you doin’ here with that greasy piggy bank?”

You ignored the way his fingertips were caressing your side through your dress and how deliciously his thumb was pressing at the side of your boob.

You looked at him, letting out a small scoff as you raised an eyebrow. “Jealous, are we?”

“I told ya I was,” he smirked, raising both his eyebrows once tauntingly and you looked over at David, whose eyes were glued on you and Elvis.

You quickly turned back to the man next to you and raised your hand, slapping his upper arm harshly.

“You could’ve called me, you know?!” you suddenly exclaimed, annoyance lacing your tongue, as you pushed him off of you. “Or even come to meet me somewhere. Am I so easy to toy with?”

Elvis put his drink down and moved back closer to you, pulling you flush against his chest as he had turned you to face him properly. You gasped softly, your cigarette nearly dropping from between your fingertips.

“You’re the one who keeps runnin’, beautiful,” he said with a small grin on his lips, staring you down. You didn’t look away, thanks to the liquid courage crawling through your veins, and placed your empty hand against his chest though didn’t push him away.

“What’re you gonna do when I kiss you again?” he whispered, though it was loud enough for you to hear him.

Your ears were ringing and your heart was beating so hard you were sure the bartender could hear it from where you were standing.

Your eyes traveled down to his lips and when his tongue swiped across his lower lip, you threw all caution to the wind and kissed him as if no one was watching. He took your cigarette out of your hand and placed it in one of the ash trays, wrapping his arms around you.

You had no idea what would happen if Tracy ever found out, but right now that was the last thing on your mind.

The vodka on your tongue was almost intoxicating to Elvis and he couldn’t stop himself from deepening the kiss, sucking on your lower lip as his hands moved down to your ass, squeezing the flesh through the fabric of your dress shamelessly.

The music playing at the club and the sound of people chatting faded far away to the background as your mind filled with only Elvis, his presence and his taste.

He was just as far gone as you, trapping you in between him and the bar, not giving a damn about how obscene you two were being in public.

A loud cough seemed to snap both of you back to reality and when Elvis pulled away from your lips, you turned your head to your left and squinted your eyes a little at David, the intoxication of Elvis and the martini’s still heavy on your mind.

“Sorry, my guy. She’s just not that into you.” Elvis told the blonde male who was looking at both of you with angry eyes, growing even more annoyed when Elvis shrugged casually at his own statement. You hid your mouth behind your fingertips as you tried to hold back a laugh and David just shook his head a little, throwing some money on the bar to pay for the drinks before he turned around and left the club.

You wouldn’t even care if he’d report back to Tracy. Those were worries for later.

“Let’s get out of here,” you said, not caring how you were slurring your words a little. Elvis moved off of you a little bit to give you more space to move around as you took your drink and took a big gulp from it, handing him the glass with the last sip. He downed it in one go and put the glass back on the bar, slipping his hand into yours.

As the bartender noticed you two leaving, he jogged over to the end of the bar, yelling at Elvis how he still had another set to perform but Elvis just ignored him and pulled you through the crowd, out of the club.

You tried to keep up with him as he was running down the street, tugging you along with him as he laughed happily.

His laugh was contagious and you loved the sound of it more than anything in the world─wanted to hear it every second of the damn day.

 

“Where are we going?” you laughed as he was still running, knowing exactly where to go.

Even if he didn’t, you wouldn’t be worried.

You felt more than comfortable around him and you knew that he’d never let anything bad happen to you.

Your eyes fell down to where your bodies were connected by your intertwined fingers, your heart swelling as he looked over his shoulder with a bright smile on his face. Right here, in this exact moment, you felt the happiest you had ever been in your twenty years of life.

“My place,” he grinned as he stopped running, coming to a halt in front of an apartment complex right across Waikiki beach. “Well, it’s my friends’ place. I’m stayin’ with him for the time being,” he said, giving you a knowing look and you giggled softly, biting your lip as you followed him inside of the building.

He was all over you in the elevator and you were more than happy to allow it, but as the doors opened and he pulled you outside, fumbling with his key at the front door a little bit, you clung onto his arm.

“Is your friend home?”

“Nah, baby, he works as a bartender. Won’t be home until the morning,” he grinned at you, finally managing to get the key in and twist it, opening the door.

The slight nerves you felt melted away again and you pushed him against the nearest wall, throwing the door closed behind you.

You captured his lips in a sloppy kiss as your hands moved to the jacket of the suit he was wearing, opening the buttons with quick fingers before you pushed the fabric off of his shoulders. Pulling back from the kiss, you looked at him as he shrugged the jacket off, admiring how freaking good he looked in the black button up he wore underneath that jacket.

You hooked your fingers behind the fabric of his shirt where he had left the bottons open of it, ripping the shirt open completely. He gasped as he looked at you with wide surprised eyes as his buttons went flying through the entrance of the apartment but you didn’t give him the chance to make a comment on it as you ran your hands down his warm chest, nails scraping softly against his nipples.

He bit his lower lip and wrapped his large hands underneath your thighs─you took the hint and jumped, hooking your legs around his waist as he caught you with ease.

You grabbed his face and kissed him hungrily.

The both of you were too intoxicated with each other to even care about him stumbling into some things before he reached the guest bedroom where he was staying.

Your kiss got interrupted as he threw you on the bed and you looked at him, lifting your torso up a little by leaning your elbows on the bed, biting your lip as he took his ripped shirt off, letting the fabric fall to the floor. He kicked off his shoes before he quickly pulled off your pumps and leaned forward, his hands sliding up your thighs and underneath your dress as you were already kissing him again─open mouthed, sloppy kisses that didn’t take long for you to trail down his jawline and neck.

You could taste his cologne on your tongue and moaned softly against his skin, hands running up through his hair, messing up the wax that he had styled it so perfectly with.

He moaned softly as you sucked on his skin while his fingers hooked underneath your panties, sliding them down and you eagerly allowed him to do so.

If this would’ve happened in your sober state, you would’ve been a lot more shy, but you had been waiting for this moment for so long.

You had been craving him for so long, you just didn’t give a damn anymore.

You spread your legs willingly, exposing yourself to him completely and he slicked back some of his hair with the palm of his hand, hungry eyes admiring your arousal that was glistening in the dim moon light that shone through the room.

The view from the bedroom was gorgeous, but right now he was only interested in the view right in front of his face.

He got on his knees in front of the bed, pulling you closer to him by wrapping his arms around your thighs, keeping your legs spread open. He licked his lips as he shot you a quick wink, sending butterflies throughout your entire body and making your heart leap pathetically in your chest, before he leaned in closer.

The kisses he planted on your inner thighs, moving closer to where you needed him most, felt as if someone was keeping a lit match against your delicate skin.

You didn’t even try for one second to hold back as he placed a soft, tiny kiss right on your clit, letting out a needy whimper. You ran your hands through your hair to get some strands out of your face, not caring at all that you were messing up the updo you had perfected a few hours ago and when Elvis ran his tongue up between your wet folds, flicking at your clit once, you moaned lewdly.

He licked his lips as he lifted his head a little, grinning at you.

‘’Can’t believe I’ve been missin’ out on this for so long- you taste fuckin’ delicious,’’ he whispered teasingly, kissing your thigh once more before he leaned down in between your legs once more.

You were expecting him to tease you until the point of you losing your mind, but he had been waiting just as long for this as you had.

He went in with confidence as he ate you out like a starved man─pretty much making out with your pussy as if he hadn’t had human contact for years.

You were trying to move your hips to his rhythm, arching your back off of the bed but he trapped you by pushing you down with his hand on your lower abdomen, lips wrapping around your clit to suck on it as he looked up at you. He released your left thigh and slipped in two of his digits, making you look down at him and moan desperately as your eyes met his.

He grinned tauntingly as he stuck out his tongue, flicking it against your clit at an unholy speed as his fingers didn’t go easy on you either, pumping inside of you.

One of your hands flew to his hair, tangling your fingers in the raven locks, your other hand squeezing the sheets desperately until your knuckles turned white. Your moans were starting to become soundless, coming out in nothing other than a high pitched gasp or whine. The martini’s you had in the span of an hour or so were making your head spin, along with the orgasm that was fastly approaching.

He could tell you were close with how your walls were clenching around his fingers repeatedly, your hips desperately wanting to move away but he still had you trapped, unable for you to escape the sense of euphoria that was so close.

So close you could taste it, but before it came, he pulled away from you completely.

You gasped as you looked at him with wide eyes, wanting to protest until you saw him stand up and pull down his pants and boxershorts.

“Impatient, little one?” he grinned and you couldn’t help but shamelessly sneak a peek at his cock hitting his lower abdomen when it was freed out of the confinements of his clothing, tip red and sensitive, glistening with precum.

You bit your lip as you looked at him.

“Stop calling me that,” you said, a challenging tone on your tongue and he raised an eyebrow, following you on the bed as you pulled yourself further on it.

“What should I call you then, hmm?” he questioned back just as challenging, grinning teasingly at you as he pulled your dress over your head, throwing it to the other side of the bed. He leaned in closer to kiss your lips softly, creeping one hand behind your back─you arched a little, making it easier for him to unclasp your bra and remove it from your body as he pulled back from your lips.

“Anything but that,” you rolled your eyes, a soft blush creeping on your cheeks despite the confidence you had been feeling tonight.

He slipped his hand in between your bodies, aligning himself at your entrance, a soft gasp leaving your lips.

 “What would you like to be called, Y/N?” he hummed, pushing the tip in, keeping still inside of you.

Even though it was hard for him as well, because all he wanted to do was fill you up and fuck you into the mattress, he liked teasing you.

He liked seeing that cute little pout on your lips and those hazy eyes looking at him pleadingly, while your pussy seemed eager to suck him all the way in. And it was, you were, so desperate that it made you want to jump out of your skin.

You tried to push him in deeper by wrapping your legs around his waist, pushing your ankles against his lower back but he just clicked his tongue against the roof of his mouth, raising a teasing eyebrow at you. “Use your words, little baby,”

The pet name he used to call you was cute, but you didn’t wanted him to see you like that anymore. You doubted he ever had though, but you hated it whenever it slipped past his lips now.

You huffed as you moved your hands up his shoulders, fingers playing with the hair on the nape of his neck.

 “Call me baby,” you whispered, trying to thrust your hips forward so you could surprise him, but it’s like he could predict every single one of your movements. He didn’t budge for one second, instead pulling out again, slipping the tip of his cock through your folds, circling against your clit. You moaned softly and looked up into his eyes, silently begging him to just fuck you already. “Call me yours,”

This seemed to send him over the edge and he lowered his cock to your entrance, pushing himself all the way in. You gasped and cursed softly at the, very much so delicious, intrusion. Your hands moved down to his shoulders again, holding onto him firmly as he gave you a few seconds to get used to him before he started thrusting into you, making you moan out in pleasure. He leaned his head down, kissing your neck sweetly.

“You’re mine, baby,” he grunted in your ear, hips picking up their pace more and more. You had your ankles hooked behind his back now, clinging onto him desperately as he was kissing your neck and whispering sweet nothings in your ear.

Maybe they were empty promises, you had no idea, but right now you were on cloud nine.

Finally in the arms of the man you had loved so dearly in silence for so long.

“You’re all mine,” he whispered, pulling his head back to look down at you. He kissed your lips sweetly and you whined a little as it ended way too soon when he pulled back after a minute and sat back, his knees pressed into the mattress.

It only took a second for him to sink back into you.

His thrusts slowed down as he gently grabbed your thighs and spread them, watching the way his cock disappeared inside of you with every thrust forward and took some of your slick with him with every trust back. You were so gorgeous laying there on his bed, little moans that sounded like the sweetest melody leaving your mouth.

The moment felt extremely intimate, especially with how deep he was reaching, softly hitting your g-spot.

“Fuck, that’s hot. Look at that, baby,” he groaned and you followed his line of sight, moaning at the sight of his cock head bulging in your tummy. He pushed forward and kept still for a little bit, cursing softly as you caressed your hands across your lower abdomen and over the bulge.

You hadn’t slept with many guys, but you’d never experienced this before. It was either because you were slim or because Elvis’ cock was a very good size – more likely, it was probably the cause of both those things.

Elvis was mesmerized, keeping his thrusts slow but firm, eager to see your tummy bulging over and over again.

You moaned as you move your hand on top of the bulge and Elvis grinned a little, gently placing his hand atop of yours so you’d keep it there. “Mmm, baby,” he grunted, his eyes staring into yours. “Feel that? You're so tiny I fill up your entire lil’ tummy- goddamnit, honey..”

His words, the sight of his cock rearranging your insides and the feeling of having him so deep – it was all so delicious that you could barely speak.

The love you felt for this man was completely consuming you and you had no intentions to fight off those feelings anymore. To hell with everyone, you needed him and only him.

“S-So deep...” you stuttered out a moan as you removed your hand, the both of you looking at the way he was filling you up completely.

The sight was sinful, yet so intimate at the same time too. Your bodies fit together like a piece of a puzzle that had been missing all your life and perhaps it was because of the alcohol in your system that you were thinking this man’s soul had a connection to yours, but you believed it.

It sure as hell felt like it.

Elvis continued his slow pace for a little bit until he felt your eager hands roam up his arms and over his shoulders, pleading eyes staring up at him, and your pussy clamping down on his cock.

Once more you could sense that feeling of bliss approaching and he quickly picked up the pace, growling deeply. He looked down into your eyes intensely as his eyebrows knitted together in concetration, hips skilfully thrusting as he moaned at the feeling of you clenching around him desperately, keeping him trapped inside of you.

‘’Oh, f-f-uck,’’ he cursed with a grunt, teeth sinking into his lower lip for a second. ‘’I’m g-gonna cum if you keep doin' that,’’ he warned and you just grinned, being drunk on him, letting your own orgasm rip through you.

He moaned as you were sucking him in even harder during your orgasm and he thrusted harder for a few more times, before he quickly pulled out of you and grabbed onto your thighs, spurts of warm cum landing on your stomach. You reached down to wrap your hand around him, squeezing out every last drop.

His eyes were rolling into the back of his head, head thrown back as his hips stuttered pathetically, moans rolling off of his tongue. You gasped softly at the sight, breathing heavily as he fell down on the bed next to you.

The both of you laid silently for a few minutes, staring up at the ceiling to catch your breath.

“Tracy is gonna kill me,” you whispered, placing a hand on your forehead.

You cringed at the thought of Tracy finding out about what happened between you and Elvis─you had no idea if you were even going to tell her, but you kind of felt like you had to.

Besides, they broke up, right?

He was a single man and she seemed to be having her own fun with the men on this island.

She’ll get over it.

Elvis turned his head into your direction and you did the same, meeting his eyes.

“What if you stay here?” he asked softly, moving a little closer to you to plant a soft kiss on your shoulder.

“Yeah, I can stay here tonight,”

“No, not tonight,” he said, and you frowned at him curiously. “I mean, yeah ofcourse you’re stayin’ tonight, but I’m talking about here. Hawaii. With me.”

The thought of you staying behind in Hawaii sounded exciting.

Way more than exciting.

Not even thinking about the fact that your sister would be on the same island, and you had college to go back to, you were sold on the idea as soon as he suggested it.

“I guess I can take a gap year?” you suggested, turning your head back to look up at the white boring ceiling.

Your parents were most definitely going to kill you, or get a heart attack upon hearing the news, but there was nothing else in the whole wide world you wanted more.

Except for maybe the dark haired man that was hovering above you again, smiling brightly as he attacked your face with kisses.

He didn’t even have to convince you further to take this leap of faith─tonight he made you his and you never ever wanted to hand that position to anyone else.

You were more than ready for whatever Hawaii would throw at you, as long as you had Elvis by your side.

taglist: @notstefaniepresley @peaceloveelvis @atleastpleasetelephone @ccab

#elvis x reader #elvis smut #elvis presley #elvis #elvis x you #elvis x y/n #elvis x oc #elvis presley smut #elvis presley x reader #elvis fans #elvis fanfiction #tamwrites

[tiredfox64]

I had an idea, I don't know how good this sounds but in the beginning of the MK1 story when the Lin Kuei trio attack Madame Bo's restaurant as an act to text Raiden and Kung Lao skills, the reader happens to be there as a traveler who also has fighting skills and fights off Smoke and finds out it's a test by Liu Kang who accepts being one of earthrealm's champions but has a hard time trusting Smoke after what happen and Smoke does everything he can to gain her trust?

Trust Me

Prior notes: Halfway through writing this the Ninja Storm theme song played in my head nonstop. I got distracted for an hour just listening to almost all the Power Rangers theme songs Σ(￣。￣ﾉ)ﾉ

Pairing: Tomas x Afab reader

Warnings ‼️: A few kicks and punches, we got those from our siblings.

You travel high and low, far and wide. The lands must be explored and experienced. Your current location? Fengjian Village in China. Quite a peaceful village actually with farmlands that stretch for many miles. You decided to rest for a moment at the tea house. Madame Bo was really nice to you, happy to have a lovely lady like you come in.

Little did you know that she was expecting you.

Lots of different people and personalities around here. You got a show as well. Two men fighting just to figure out who is paying tonight. It must have been serious because they were fighting for their lives. You can understand since the food was amazing.

The sun had set and the cool breeze blew through the tea house. You were finishing up your meal at the same time those two men were about to. In an instant the atmosphere became hostile. You looked up to see a man with silvery hair and gray attire harassing Madame Bo. You watched carefully, wary of this guy’s intentions. You jumped into action once you saw him attack Madame Bo and literally throw her over the balcony.

His eyes turned to you when he saw you running towards him. You were surprised by the smoke bomb he threw down. It made you cough which gave him the opportunity to attack you, causing you to hit the floor.

“You are brave, but against us? You are in over your head.” He mocked you.

“I don’t care who you are or what your purpose is. You will not be a nuisance to Madame Bo.” You declared before fighting him.

You fought viciously, as anyone would suspect. This guy had a few tricks up his sleeve. Magic that you’ve never seen before. Yet you stood your ground. While you were dealing with him those other two guys were fighting off the other assassins. Oh great there are two more who got some sort of freaky magic. Well at least they are taking care of that.

An amazing spectacle of kicking, punching, and slashing was performed by you and your opponent. After all that you managed to defeat him, leaving him lying on the ground. You moved quickly to check on Madame Bo who was…fine. No, really, she was. Standing up straight and smoking a cigarette like it was a normal Tuesday night. A man with glowing eyes approached you and you finally got the answers you needed.

This was all a test from Lord Liu Kang. You, Raiden, and Kung Lao were chosen to join Earthrealm’s champions. Liu Kang was thankful that you chose to visit Fengjian now since it made things easier.

He explained that the people who attacked were the Lin Kuei and that you fought Tomas aka Smoke. They weren’t thugs but were actually a clan that helped protect Earthrealm. You were still in shock about the whole thing. You couldn’t let your guard down fully even if you now know it was a test.

Liu Kang told you all that the Wu Shi Acadamy will help train you and prepare for the Mortal Kombat tournament. Looks like you will be staying in China for longer than you expected.

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Ever since Tomas fought you he has been dying to talk to you. He thought you did amazing. He really didn’t know what to expect since you were just a traveler. No one had a clue who trained you or even why you were so good at fighting. You must have been a quick thinker since you manage to figure out he was using smoke magic.

The problem is that you were cold to him. You still didn’t trust him even after finding out it was all a test. He would visit the Wu Shi Academy just to get a chance to talk to you, only for you to move away from him whenever you saw a hint of his silvery hair.

Raiden and Kung Lao told you to not hold it over his head. Madame Bo is safe. Hell, she was even in the Lin Kuei once, she’s a tough woman. Nope, you’re still not budging.

“I don’t understand, Raiden. She still treats me like some thug.” Tomas expresses his frustration to Raiden who wants to help make peace between you two.

“It probably didn’t feel good to her to be tricked like that. It may be best to prove to her that she can trust you.” Raiden gave back the best advice he could give.

“But what can I do if I can’t even get close to her.”

Raiden had to think for a moment. The others such as Kung Lao, Johnny, and Kenshi all came around as well since they heard Tomas’ frustration. They didn’t want him feeling bad about what he did since he was instructed to cause a disturbance at the tea house. They also don’t want you holding a grudge against a sweet and cool guy like Tomas.

“I got it!” Kung Lao snapped his fingers, “How about you train with us for some time. She will see that you aren’t so bad after all especially when she sees how calm you are when fighting us. Maybe giving her a gift once in a while will help as well.”

Not a bad plan. It could work. Tomas was on board with this. He didn’t want you viewing him as some thug anymore. You need to see who he truly is and he will do anything to prove it. Operation make you trust Tomas is a go go!

══💤══╡°˖✧🦊✧˖°╞══💤══

Tomas asked his brother if it was okay to train with the Shaolin for a bit. Bi-Han couldn’t give two fucks where Tomas would be at so he let him do that.

Now you really couldn’t avoid Tomas. Anytime you decided to train with the other champions he was always there. You grew annoyed by his presence. You couldn’t understand why no one else was upset by that trick of a test.

You also couldn’t understand why he was leaving you bunches of lavender and peace lilies. Okay well the peace lilies should have been a big sign but you weren’t the biggest expert on flowers or their meanings. He would leave them at your door, on your chair, he would even have the guys pass you the flowers just to make sure you would accept them.

And after some time you did. It would be a waste if you kept throwing them out. They were lovely and lavender is useful. You didn’t fully trust him yet but his efforts were chipping away at your stubborn heart.

You started watched as he trained with the others. All those fighting moves you saw before when you fought him. The aggression you felt before when seeing those moves slowly started to fade. You watched as he patiently taught the others some tricks on how to defend themselves. Not just that but he was open to being taught as well. The monks taught him new moves and involved him in meditation. Now would a violent person meditate? Nope, because Tomas is not the violent person you think he is.

You realized maybe you were being a bit too harsh when you heard him speak. His voice was less deeper than when you first heard it. It was just an impression anyways. And without his mask on there is no muffle to it. You listened to how disappointed he was, concerned that you still don’t trust him. He expressed that he is doing his best but he fears that you will always see him as the bad guy.

It broke your heart when you realized you misjudged him. He was putting in a lot of effort and you were turning a blind eye to it before. You don’t know how long he will be training with the Wu Shi and you don’t want to regret not saying anything to him. You want to make things right and the best way to do that was to talk to him.

One day you found him near the zen gardens. A place of relaxation and peace. A good atmosphere for something like this. He was meditating all by himself and you were unsure about disturbing him. He already heard your footsteps, you can’t sneak up on a sneaky person. He turned towards you expecting to see someone like Raiden or Johnny. But no, it was actually you. He was shocked and wasn’t sure what you were doing here. You gently waved towards him before speaking.

“Hi…do you mind if I join you?” You asked softly.

Tomas just stared for a good five seconds before breaking out of his trace. “O-oh yeah sure.”

You thanked him before walking closer. You surprised him even more when you described to sit next to him. Both your hearts were beating fast. Yours because you were unsure of what to say and his because of the same thing. You took a few deep breaths before speaking up.

“I’m sorry that I’ve been kind of cold to you. Maybe even been avoiding you. I just kept thinking back to that night at the tea house and I just thought you were the same guy I fought back then.”

You saying sorry was already the highlight of Tomas’ day. Before he can say anything to you, even to apologize for fighting you, you continued.

“You don’t have to apologize for what happened. I understand it was just a test and no one really got hurt. Well, maybe not physically but I did hurt you by being mean.”

You were picking at your fingers as you looked down at your lap. Now you wondered if he thought of you as the bad person. He doesn’t, he never did.

“We got off on the wrong foot and I want to make it right. Maybe you and I can train one of these days if you are willing to spend time with me.”

“Yes! Yes! Of course I would love to.” Tomas got too excited and covered his mouth, not wanting to disturb the tranquility of the garden anymore.

You looked at him all shocked before chuckling quietly. He really was desperate to show you that he is trustworthy. Seeing that it all paid off was too great for him that he had to express it. How could you ever imagine he was some cruel man who purposely beats up old ladies?

Your chuckle made him feel less embarrassed and happy to see you loosen up around him. You seem way chiller than he imagined. He’s excited to get to know you more now. You took his hand into yours and shook it.

“It’s nice to officially meet you, Smoke.”

He smiled at you. The mission was a success. All of this was worth it.

“The pleasure is all mine. But please, call me Tomas.”

After notes: It’s a bad time for me to find out that my favorite show is free on YouTube. Mhm I’m gonna be blasting that good shit on my tv. Anyways I hope you enjoy whoever requested it. I actually thought about this scenario a bit ago but never wrote it down and forgot about it. So looks like you read my mind. Trust me it sounded good to me :3. Adiós!

#mortal kombat #mk1 #mortal kombat 1 #mortal kombat1 #mortal kombat x reader #mortal kombat x you #mk x reader #mk x you #mk fanfic #tomas x you #tomas x reader #tomas vrbada x you #tomas vrbada x reader #tomas vrbada smoke #tomas vrbada #smoke x you #smoke x reader #mk1 smoke #mk smoke #smoke mk

[oliversrarebooks]

The Rare Bookseller Part 48: Fitz's Charms

Prev > Masterlist

June 1905

TW: mind control, blood drinking

Fitz once again had a plan.

It wasn't much of one. But the past few days in the auction house, he'd had little to do but sleep, eat, play solitaire, read the books and magazines Alexander brought him, and think about how he could escape his seemingly inevitable fate.

It certainly didn't help that Alexander would fix him with a look of intense longing every time he returned to the room, catching Fitz in his gaze and invoking the intense, unnatural urge for fangs in his neck. The horror of the night of the auction hadn't washed that compulsion from his mind at all, and his dreams as he drifted off to sleep were full of  Alexander pulling him close, whispering his mesmeric song in Fitz's ear, humming softly as he bit into Fitz's tender flesh...

And yet, despite Alexander's very obvious desire, and the fact that he now owned Fitz (give or take his terrifying sire, who Fitz wished to put far from his mind), he never so much as laid a hand on him, explaining that he'd rather feed at home.

Fitz didn't accept this. They had complete privacy in the auction house room and  Alexander had originally intended to buy Fitz for exactly this purpose. He'd barely been able to hold himself back in the showroom, and he was obviously struggling to hold himself back now. No, there was something else at play. After giving it a great deal of thought, Fitz concluded that the most likely explanation was that Alexander did not want to grow too attached to him. Despite his grand promises, it was clearly difficult for Alexander to defy his sire in any way. If Alexander's plans to kill the Maestro failed, it would be much easier for Alexander if he didn't care, if he could simply hand over Fitz without a second thought.

Well, that wouldn't do.

Endearing himself to Alexander would be the key to his safety and eventually his escape, Fitz reckoned, particularly if Fitz could avoid getting entangled in inconvenient affection himself. It would possibly afford him more freedom and privilege, and the more Alexander valued him, the more he'd be spurred on to save Fitz from his cruel sire.

And there was one obvious way to start that process: enticing Alexander to feed.

The fact that this plan happened to dovetail with his own enthralled desires was just a happy accident, nothing more.

Fitz had been scheming the entire carriage ride to Alexander's manor, trying to look as enticing as possible in the shapeless frock the auction house had provided for him. Alexander spent most of the ride very interested in the bland scenery of the country road, looking anywhere but at Fitz, his aura betraying where his interests truly lay and sending Fitz's head spinning.

"Well, here we are. Please make yourself at home." said Alexander, removing his coat and shoes at the doorway as Fitz looked around. The manor looked considerably smaller than his childhood home, certainly older, and infused with the musty smell of old books.

A dusty intellectual, then, just as Fitz had suspected. He could work with that. Lord knows he'd charmed his way into the homes of many such an intellectual just by feigning interest in rare plants or mystery stories or whatever bee they had in their bonnet.

"I should show you around," saidAlexander. "This will be your home, now, and I want you to be comfortable. You're free to go where you please in the manor, and use what you will, as long as you don't harm the books or the instruments, or enter my private chambers uninvited. Is that clear?"

"Clear as crystal, sir," said Fitz, deliberately stepping much too close to Alexander, enjoying how he squirmed. It gave Fitz the welcome illusion that he had the upper hand, despite being locked into the manor of the vampire who owned him.

Alexander first took Fitz into an old-fashioned kitchen that was spotlessly clean. "I'll provide you with whatever food you request, but I'll expect you to cook it yourself. Can you cook?"

No, no he could not. Fitz's family had had a chef, and since running away, Fitz had only rented out rooms without access to a kitchen. He'd subsisted mainly on sandwiches, the cheapest diner food he could find, and, when he'd worked as a waiter, as much food from back of house as he could snatch. But Alexander didn't need to know that. How hard could basic cooking be? "I'll try not to burn the place down, sir."

"Burn the place down? You wouldn't --"

"That was a joke, sir."

"...Oh, yes." Alexander took a deep breath, apparently having taken that entirely seriously. 

"Are there any other thralls living here, sir?" Fitz already suspected the answer, given Alexander's air of desperation and how clean the kitchen was.

"No, it's only you."

"Very good, sir." That would certainly work to his advantage.

As Alexander left the kitchen and Fitz followed at his heels, he couldn't help but think of the food that awaited him. He believed that Alexander would keep him fed -- after all, he was apparently depending on Fitz alone for blood, and even the auction house had kept its prisoners fed well. His mouth was watering thinking of the steak and chicken he could be eating.

He'd just need to learn how to use a stove first. A minor detail.

"I hope you'll enjoy this. It's my music room," said Alexander, leading Fitz into an ornate room with a grand piano at its center. It was covered in a mess of sheet music and the bench was worn, indicating that it wasn't just a piano for show as many rich families had, but very well-used. An impressive collection of other instruments sat on the floor or hung from racks on the walls - a beautiful guitar that Fitz immediately coveted, several fine-looking violins, a brightly-painted harpsichord, a polished oboe.

"Yes, I do enjoy it, sir," said Fitz, lighting up. This was ideal -- music would be a way to pass the time and endear himself to his new master all at the same time. He gestured toward that gorgeous piano. "Do you mind, sir?" 

"Not at all. You did mention you play, didn't you?"

"I do, sir," said Fitz with a cheeky grin. "Just listen." He sat down at the bench, making a dramatic show of stretching his arms and cracking his knuckles, pleased to see Alexander giving him full attention. With a deft hand, he launched into a familiar ragtime tune, keeping time by tapping his foot on the floor. He was out of practice, having not played a music gig in several months, but despite a wrong note here and there he could still produce a pleasant enough tune. He looked up to see Alexander absolutely enraptured, a better response than expected considering his rusty piano skills.

"That was wonderful," he said. "What song was that? I've never heard it."

"You've never heard the Maple Leaf Rag, sir?" 

"I tend to be rather sheltered when it comes to newer music."

"Is that so, sir?" With a smile and a flourish, Fitz stood up and gestured to the piano bench. "In that case, I would like to hear some of your older music, if you don't mind playing, sir."

Alexander looked surprised and pleased at Fitz's request. "If you don't mind listening, I don't mind playing. It's far from perfect, though, I should warn you."

As Fitz leaned gently against the piano, Alexander took a small breath before starting in on the most complicated and arresting piano music Fitz had heard in his life. Nimble hands flew across the keys in patterns that were nearly impossible to follow with the naked eye, and despite Alexander claiming his performance was far from perfect, Fitz couldn't have identified one wrong note or missed beat if he tried. It was the sort of song and performance that demanded full attention, driving all other considerations out of the listener's head.

Despite the intense skill required to play the piece, Alexander's expression was not one of concentration. Instead, he seemed far away, as though his mind had departed his body.

"I'm a bit rusty. Apologies," said Alexander in all seriousness as he finished, as though he hadn't just given a virtuoso performance as casually as Fitz could plunk out a children's tune.

"That was... astounding, sir," said Fitz, caught off guard enough by the music that he didn't have a calculated answer. "I've never heard anything like it. What was the song?"

"It's a piano concerto written by a vampire composer, so not one you would have likely heard of. His works take advantage of the greater nimbleness afforded our kind." Alexander seemed oddly melancholy about having had the chance to show off a truly impressive skill. "Anyway, why don't we move on?"

He stood up abruptly from the piano bench, leaving Fitz to follow again, wondering what his next move should be. He'd thought the piano would be a winner, but it had only seemed to increase the distance between him and Alexander. 

"Allow me to show you my pride and joy, the library," said Alexander.

Fitz inwardly scoffed. How could a library possibly be more interesting than the music room? He'd seen plenty of personal libraries in his time, and had never been all that impressed by a rich person's ability to gather a bunch of dusty books they never actually read. Still, he'd have to pretend to be impressed.

It turned out that there was no need to pretend. This wasn't some small parlor with a few bookshelves. No, this so-called library actually took up what looked to be an entire wing of the manor. It was two stories high with bookshelves stretching straight to the ceiling, punctuated by rickety wooden ladders. And like the piano, it was very clearly in use, with books scattered all around the chairs and tables and lying in big stacks on a large wooden desk. 

"Well, what do you think?" said Alexander, clearly looking for approval in a way he hadn't with his piano playing.

"It's an astonishing amount of books, sir," said Fitz. "Have you actually read every one of these?"

"Most of them, yes, but there are some I haven't read cover to cover. Some of them are astoundingly dull histories that mostly have a place in cross-referencing other works."

Fitz leaned in close once more. "Astoundingly dull histories, sir? You certainly do know how to charm a man."

 Alexander didn't move away. "You know, if I didn't know any better, I'd say you've attempting to charm me."

"And is it working, sir?" Fitz stepped closer, pleased when  Alexander found himself nearly pressed against one of his bookshelves.

"Perhaps."  Alexander seemed to be trying to compose himself. "Although I confess I don't see what the purpose is. At the auction house, you were trying to convince me to buy you. You did succeed, even if the ultimate outcome wasn't what either of us hoped. What are you trying to accomplish here?"

"Isn't it enough to want to please you, sir? Must you assume I have an ulterior motive?"

 Alexander seemed amused. "Oh, I know you have an ulterior motive. I'm only asking what it is."

"I was just thinking that you bought me for a reason, sir." Fitz had him practically backed up against the bookshelf by now. "And that reason so happens to coincide with the spell that our mutual acquaintance placed on me. So it's less of an ulterior motive, and more that our interests conveniently align."

 Alexander's eyes darted to Fitz's neck, his composure rapidly waning, and Fitz felt a thrill of power. For the first time since that fateful night when Miss Lily had volunteered to be his assistant, he felt like he had control over the situation, that he could skillfully manipulate things to go his way.

"Lily did condition you very well," said  Alexander, his voice wavering. "But I did intend for you to get settled in first before I sated my appetite."

"I'm pretty well settled, sir. I think I'm going to be able to make myself very comfortable here. But I don't want you holding back on what you really want to do. That never works out for anyone."

"Is that so?"

"You wanted me to offer my blood to you, didn't you, sir? That's what you told me when we first met. Well, here I am. Offering." Fitz shamelessly pulled aside the collar of his frock, exposing his neck, enjoying the way  Alexander's desire was settling around his mind, the way he had the vampire eating out of the palm of his hand. 

It happened so fast.

Fitz was being pushed onto the couch, cold hands gripping his shoulders, a mesmerizing song ringing in his ears. Unlike  Alexander's measured song at the auction house, this was desperate, needy, wrapping around Fitz's mind and pulling it beneath the waves before he could even comprehend what was happening. His plans and manipulation no longer mattered, dashed to pieces in the whirlpool of  Alexander's irresistible voice.

The only thing that mattered now was listening.

"You will obey, won't you?" whispered Alexander in his ear.

"Yes, Master." The instinctive reply tumbled from his lips, and he wasn't remotely prepared for how right it felt. How good he felt falling back into the magic.

No, the vampire was never eating out of the palm of his hand. That was an illusion, smoke and mirrors he set up to trick himself. Alexander was absolutely in control, and there was nothing he could do about it. But unlike the absolute control Alexander's sire had used on his body, this was like rest and calm and bliss all at once, quieting his busy mind, soothing it in a way he was rarely soothed, forcing a sweet surrender.

"You'll feel no pain. Only pleasure when I drink from you."

"Only pleasure, Master." That's it, that's all there was. Only pleasure from being buried in a tidal wave of his master's desire.

And then the fangs were in his neck, finally fulfilling the promise that was made to him the moment he'd been enthralled, and the remainder of his mind crumbled in an instant. His master drank hungrily from the twin wounds, lapping at the precious drops of blood, as Fitz slumped onto his shoulder, sinking into a euphoric daze. Fitz could somehow feel every drop of his master's intense desire for him, and it felt like Narcissus looking into his pool, like a starving man served a lavish banquet, like he would never be satiated.

He was wanted, oh, he was wanted and wanted and wanted --

The feeding was over too soon, too soon for Fitz to fully savor the dizziness in his head and the heaviness in his limbs from his master's feast, the proof of his quality. The proof that Fitz was worth something to someone.

"Such a good thrall," Alexander murmured as he cradled Fitz's head against his chest. "You're perfect, Fitz. You're absolutely perfect. And I'm not going to let anyone else touch you, not my sire, not anyone. You're mine."

"Yours, sir," said Fitz, and he had promised that very thing to so many people, but he'd never actually meant it until now.

Prev > Masterlist

Next time, Alexander gets drunk.

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@whumpyourdamnpears @only-shadows-dwell-where-we-are @pressedpenn @pigeonwhumps @amusedmuralist

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#whump #whump writing #vampire whump #vampire whumper #mind control #blood drinking #rare bookseller #alexander #fitz

[hazbinfallinginaspiral]

Obvious (Vox x Assistant!Reader)

Summary- You’re Vox’s new assistant. He’s just had a big fight with Valentino. He comes and vents to you about it, and ends up crying. You comfort him and he appreciates it, then notices all the small things you do for him. Things he’d previously overlooked, things so small but thoughtful, things Val would never do for him. Then it hit him- he loved you.

-being new wasn’t particularly hard, so long as you kept your head down -you did your work efficiently and properly, never late, not a detail out of place. You never complained either. You were quiet and mostly kept to yourself, which helped you blend into the rest of the faceless and mundane workers at Voxtek. -Your coworkers hardly knew you existed, but Vox? -He was aware of you alright. You were his best assistant, the only one he trusted to not fuck up on his important projects. The one he could trust to keep their mouth shut. -You were thoughtful and observant, something even he struggled to be sometimes. -so, when you noticed his sour mood and the exhaustion emanating off him in waves this morning, you brought him his favorite coffee and snacks. You were discreet, carefully organizing his files and reports so they were tidier and easier to manage. You cancelled, pushed back, or sent in representatives for meetings that would stress him out. -He didn’t notice. He was overworking himself today, pushing himself to his limit for the company. -You knew this and used it to your advantage, helping him more than usual, knowing he wouldn’t notice or say anything. There was nothing you could do to stop his bad habits so you did your best to support him and help, taking some of the weight off his shoulders. -What you hadn’t expected was for the wild card to show up -Valentino was in one of his moods and word got to Vox before you could send someone else in to deal with it. -You knew it wouldn’t end well, but you couldn’t do much. You were an average sinner demon and they were Overlords. So, you waited, preparing Vox’s office so everything was as perfect as possible when he got back. -His fight with Val was explosive, per usual. Vox ended up giving in first today, teleporting away to the comfort of his office. He was too fucking tired for this shit. -What he didn’t know was that you would be there. It was a sort of pleasant surprise. You’d always been a good assistant and listener. -So, he flopped dramatically and started venting about his shitty week. You plugged in his charging cables while he talked, which took him off guard for a moment. -he was in the middle of talking about what had happened with Val, static stinging his eyes. He cried a little. -you were quiet and gentle, offering soft words of support. -as you comforted him, Vox couldn’t help but remember how you’d plugged him in to charge. It was strange to him. “Why’d you do that?” He’d asked, confused. “Because you were tired. You needed it,” you’d respond simply, as if it were natural. It wasn’t. Not in Hell, at least. -that was the moment when it all began to click everything you’d done for him, all things Val would never do for him. -what he was missing -it felt so obvious now, “Oh,” he said softly, realization dawning on him. “I love you.”

Bonus! (Cleaned up version)

As the newest addition to Voxtek's workforce, blending in was second nature to me. I kept my head down, diligently completing my tasks with precision and efficiency. My quiet demeanor allowed me to fade into the background, becoming just another face among the sea of employees.

But while my coworkers remained oblivious to my existence, Vox was acutely aware of my presence. He relied on me, trusted me in ways he never did with anyone else. I was his right-hand assistant, the one he turned to when he needed something done right.

And on that fateful day, as Vox returned to his office drained and disheartened from yet another confrontation with Valentino, I was there waiting for him. I had anticipated his needs, preparing his workspace to perfection in anticipation of his return.

As he collapsed into his chair with a defeated sigh, I moved quietly to his side, plugging in his charging cables without a word. Vox's eyes widened in surprise at the unexpected gesture, but he said nothing, too exhausted to question it.

He began to vent about his tumultuous encounter with Valentino, his voice filled with frustration and fatigue. I listened attentively, offering words of comfort and understanding as he poured out his heart. And then, in a moment of vulnerability, tears welled up in his eyes, streaming down his face unchecked.

Without hesitation, I reached out to him, offering a gentle touch of reassurance. Vox leaned into my touch, his sobs subsiding as I comforted him with quiet words of solace.

As I sat beside him, offering my support, Vox's mind began to clear, his thoughts drifting to the small yet significant acts of kindness I had shown him. The coffee and snacks I had brought him that morning, the meticulous organization of his files, the cancelation of stressful meetings—each gesture a testament to my attentiveness, care and- oh.

And then it hit him like a bolt of lightning—what he had been missing all along. It was the realization that amidst the chaos of his life, I had been there, quietly supporting him without asking for anything in return.

With a sudden clarity, Vox uttered the words that had been lingering on the tip of his tongue, the truth he had only just come to understand. "I love you," he said, his voice soft yet resolute.

#hazbin hotel fanfiction #hazbin hotel #hazbin hotel vox #hazbin vox #vox #ao3 writer #my writing #writing #vox x reader #x reader #vox fanfiction

[banquetwriter]

hellooo! can i request johnnie x reader, where his tweets are about a song but the fans think they broke up because y/n also had a suspicious tweet like him!! thank you i hope you have a wonderful day!

୨୧ Assumptions ୨୧

pairing: Johnnie Guilbert ♡︎ Reader

warnings: ୭̥⋆*｡ short (I'm sorry) fluff tbh

summary: ʚ the fans get the wrong idea when you and Johnnie tweet lyrics of his new song ɞ

Words: 1299

An: this is short but honestly it's so sweet and I loved doing this!!

You made sure to keep balance with the plate and cup in your hands as you approached your office room. You had finally convinced Johnnie to start editing in your office since he moved in. You both even set up a little recording spot for him complete with a spooky background.

You walked up to the door and knocked against it slightly using your foot. After a moment or two the door opened with a slightly worn-looking Johnnie. “Hey what's all this for?” he asked, opening the door for you. “Well you have been working so hard on your new song I thought I outta surprise you.”

You say with a big smile holding up his cup of tea and chips. “Eh, I'm really proud of this song. I just hope it, you know, does well,” he says with a short laugh at the end of his sentence. You smile while walking to the couch that is directly next to his editing chair.

The one you sat at and relaxed while he would stream. The whole world seemed so in love with you two dating. Everyone loved how well you two worked. And you loved it too. “I'm sure they will babe. I think you fucking killed it with this song,” you spoke moving your legs up to your chest and setting the food on the desk.

He smiles as you sit down in his chair and start to click around on his computer. You plucked a chip off of his plate scrolling around Twitter. “Hey, quit stealing my chips,” Johnnie said, staring at you accusingly.

You pause looking up at him, blinking slowly for a second. “When your dick gets bigger I will,” you said with a faux smile. He giggles at your comment, turning back to the computer, his fingers reaching for the coffee mug.

“Be careful, I think the tea is still pretty hot.” you half mumble the warning before putting the chip in your mouth. “I'll drink whatever the fuck I want bitch.” he says in a sassy, Timmy-esque voice. He takes a small sip of the tea before yanking the cup away from his mouth. “Fuck!” he shouts as the hot piqued burned his mouth.

You let out a loud laugh at his reaction, covering your mouth as you did so. “Aahh fuck you!” he yelps again searching for a drink of something colder. You snicker looking back down at your phone. Twitter was usually an awful place to be and it wasn't any different than this time.

You banned Johnnie from looking up his name on social media sites, and it wasn't good that you still did it but occasionally you liked to check in on fans and see what was popular amongst the fandom.

Most were hyping up the newest video you had posted this week and taking clips from it as reactions. Your fans were so funny, like genuinely. It blew you away that people found you so funny.

Of course, there were a select few that were not ideal. One about how You and Johnnie haven't posted in a while, and that you two must have broken up. They were not true by any means. With Johnnie's new song coming out soon it was easier for him to bulk-record videos so he had more time during the day to work on it.

Johnnie had finally calmed down from burning the shit out of his mouth. “How much of the new song have you teased?” you asked using your foot to spin his chair so he faced you. You continued to munch on a few chips, eating all the food you brought for your boyfriend.

“Honestly not much just that I have a new song coming out, not even a date or anything,” he said, grabbing a chip too. “Mmm we should start doing more to promote it, well sorry, you should do more this isn't my song,” you murmur using your ring finger to tap around your phone with your chip-dust-covered hands.

“Mmm, I feel like it's both of our songs in a way, I mean yeah I performed it and edited it but you helped me write it. You're also helping me by taking care of me.” he gestured to his tea as he took a sip.

You smiled at his words. It was nice when credit was given for things like this. This was Johnnie's song but you did help him with the lyrics. It was about the heartbreak of getting older, the lyrics sounding like you were talking to time.

The idea simmered down into a few words; it was like breaking up with time. The lyrics were akin to a breakup song. It was a cool idea and one you dealt with as you grew older. You even starred in the music video as the “time” character.

“What were we thinking of doing?” he murmured with his mouth full. “Maybe tweeting a few of your lyrics? Something you wouldn't normally rant about I guess,” you suggested dusting your fingers off.

“That could be cool, we should do it from the chorus or something,” he said, pulling his phone out of his back pocket. “Yeah for sure,” you mumbled absentmindedly, moving the chair with your foot still.

Over the next few days you both tweeted lyrics from the song. ‘I will forever mourn the loss of us’ and ‘You can't stay innocent to it forever’ got the most likes. Unfortunately, you two were now trending. “What the fuck are we going to do?” you asked looking at the #Johnnieandy/nbreakup tag.

“Just ignore them? The song comes out soon anyway,” he reassured you, his thumb rubbing the side of your thigh. Your legs rested on his lap as you cuddled up next to him.

You still didn't like the idea that everyone thought you two broke up. You can see how someone might think that from your guy’s tweets. And yes you shouldn't assume something about someone online but that just means your fans care about you. Doesn't it?

After a few days, you both released another video on each other's YouTube channels. The entire comments were filled with asking where the other person was. If you two had really broken up this would have been awful. Thank god you hadn't.

You both decided that you two should make at least one video addressing the rumors. On one of your tik toks someone had commented ‘Did you and Johnnie break up?’ so you replied to the comment with a video.

“Hey guys so a lot of people have been asking if me and my boyfriend Johnnie broke up, so today we are going to go ask him,” you said holding the phone up to your face as if introducing a vlog.

The next shot was of your feet walking up to Johnnie sitting on the couch. “Hey babe?” you asked, pointing the camera at him. “Yeah?” he answered back looking up at you. “Did we break up?” you ask as if it was a normal question.

“Umm last time I checked no,” he replied back trying to hold his smile back. “Oh ok, sweat just checking. Love you,” you said back moving the phone down as he broke his serious face and laughed with you.

You posted the tik tok captioned “addressing the rumors”

You cuddled up next to him and read the comments. Most of them were making fun of others for assuming things. The other half was just talking about how cute the two of you were together.

The following day the song and music video were posted and the feedback was worth it. You were so proud of Johnnie and all he had done but this song meant so much to both of you.

#jake and johnnie #johnnie guilbert #johnnie guilbert fluff #johnnie guilbert x reader #johnnie guilbert x you #johnnie x you

[incorrectsibunaquotes]

I wanna preface this by saying Joy went too far in certain aspects of her S2 arc, but the Joy vs Nina situation would have never escalated that much in canon had Nina not been the Chosen One.

Like hear me out: the entire reason Joy was kidnapped in the first place was because she was supposed to be the Chosen One. And honestly, we’re never told for how long she was being told this. It might have been dropped on her only once she was back at home, or they might have told her way before then and she just didn’t give it too much thought before it suddenly became real. We have no real idea. But either way, her isolation from all of the friends she held dear, and the essential imprisonment in her own home was all due to being this supposed Paragon.

And she obviously doesn’t want to be the Chosen One. She says it multiple times in S1, to the point of tears and screaming. Joy is glad when it turns out not to be her, but it’s obvious that she basically went through that entire ordeal, missed a whole year of crucial social development in her actual home (bc lbr she probably spent more time at Anubis growing up than she did her actual house), all for nothing.

And to make matters worse, the actual Chosen One was walking around free as a bird, making friends with all Joy’s friends, and managing to capture Fabian’s affections. So here’s this girl that Joy doesn’t know at all, who has cemented herself in the daily lives and hearts of Anubis House residents, and she happens to hold the role that Joy had been forced to play to her detriment.

That’s what stings most, I think, though Joy says it’s about Fabian. Most of her actual hurt and actual retaliation comes from feeling excluded by Sibuna. “I’ve seen things, remember? Things we don’t talk about because you and your little Scooby gang shut me out.” She is most angry because her isolation never stopped.

Of course, it doesn’t help that she was in love with Fabian, and now the actual Chosen One (who in Joy’s mind has practically gotten everything handed to her) is with him.

I firmly believe that if Nina was just a normal girl and there wasn’t a mystery going on, but she still was dating Fabian, Joy would not have gone so far. It’s not right that she went that far in the first place, of course, but she was justifiably angry at the injustice of her situation. She should have turned that anger on the adults who got it wrong in the first place, but it’s way easier to punch on your level than to punch up at grown adults with power over you. It’s a real shame that Nina got caught in the crossfire of Joy’s war with the world, because they really could have been such good friends.

I made an edit of her that I think gets my point across better than this, that’s too large to post on tumblr so here is the link: https://www.instagram.com/reel/C5_a8GhO0Xg/?igsh=MWlncmRsdWJxdHd6NA==

#I just feel so bad for her and idk if I articulated this super well #house of anubis #joy mercer #Instagram

[cashmere-caveman]

hello everyone :) inspired by this post by @burrowingregg, please enjoy my thoughts on "what if crozier fucking dies and little becomes captain"

if he dies before sir john

one of two outcomes. sir john either doubles down ("we have to find the nwp for francis!"/"well now that the haters are gone its time to have Real Men Solve This Like Champs") or he goes hm. maybe this is a sign and actually this is a dire situation. perhaps we should pack it in men

i dont rlly have any thoughts on this except i am rlly curious what this would do to fitzy. does he ramp up the charming pretender routine now that he's the uncontested no1 son and crozier cleary didnt know what he was talking about or would this be an early wakeup call and jumpstart the fury beach convo w blanky?

if he dies pre ep4 (tuunbaq)

the lashing would not turn out this way bc little wouldnt have hickey punished as a boy -> less men would berth on erebus

mutiny later maybe? definitely different

(is this a good moment to squeeze in some solittle bc they have to cooperate to keep all the men in check.)

definitely better communication within terror command bc the lieutenants will know little is going to hear them out i think and since little sucks at asserting authority hed have to rely on them more than crozier did

weird tension between jopson and little i think. is it sexual. is it antagonistic. actually maybe i could see jopson joining a mutiny in a crozier dead scenario hmmm…. heres how hickeyjopson can still win !!1!!!!!

if he doesnt survive the withdrawal

jopson.exe stopped working

maybe i could see jopson joining a mutiny in a crozier dead scenario hmmm…. heres how hickeyjopson can still win !!1!!!!! (1).docx

joplittle coworkers to enemies speedrun. i think jopson would grieve so fucking much but then go Ah! We compartmentalise this emotion! Nothing easier than that :) and then hed be so fucking passive agressive as the new captains steward without even realising bc WHY does little walk around alive and hale when little was the one who got crozier the alcohol that killed him how is that fair (jopson is Not at a point where he is willing to confront the fact that he himself was just as much an enabler as little, if not more so)

also sidenote but he wouldnt shave little since that actually never was in a stewards job description in the first place lol no homoerotic blade to throat interaction for you, sir!!

i do think little and fitzjames would work well together! they did a good job on coordinating the carnivale and fitzjames is not someone who lashes out a lot, which is good bc little does not deal well w getting screamed at

i think blanky would become elemental. w crozier dead and mcdonald gone hes the last brit who speaks inuktitut fluent enough to communicate w silna Plus hes one of the v few remaining high ranking arctic veterans

(what would change in a scenario like this if my good friend and upcoming romance novel love interest graham gore - who was an arctic veteran and even competent and charismatic - was still around? food for thought)

what would hickey do? the object of his obsession is out of the picture so he cant get revenge for getting whipped, he still wants to go to his tropical vacation and i think w crozier dead he would switch to survival mode 3000 (he is always already in survival mode to begin with, but i mean the point at which he switches from playing defense to offense) sooner. if the captains dead theyre fucked for real whats holding him back? hickey voice in fact what is holding anyone back? men, we need to confront the situation!

i really think this might be where thomas "shouldve been a news reporter" jopson would shine. that nosy bitch knows about Everything going on, and in a situation like this where every information must be handled in a v tactical way so as to Manage The Situation i think there would be a great deal of avenues of action open to someone in a position like his. especially, i think, bc to me a great deal, if not to say the entirety of jopsons optimism and endurance and focus is simply build on this vast foundation of trust he has in crozier and w crozier gone, what happens to all of that? there are a few ways this could play out imo

a) he instead reorients himself toward the next Authority Figure, which in this case would probably be Fitzjames. I do think it is unlikely, simply bc due to crozier dying during withdrawal the fences would not yet have mended entirely and jopson Will Hold A Grudge. it wont be little, for previously mentioned reasons, even though i dont think jopson would be able to realise that himself. he does not have a lot of interactions w the other lieutenants up until then (not counting serving dinner etc) and since iirc they had not been called into the Sobriety Meeting i dont quite know about how much he would trust them. so unless sth drastically changes during the walkout the options would be fitzjames or little and i personally vote no on both

b) he would retreat into himself and simply Wait. wait for what? u ask. well :) he would wait. and then, maybe one day he might even React. but for now, he would Wait, and Pay Attention

c) i realize this is quite a shrewder reading of jopson than what dave k has said of how he sees him but as i said earlier to me a lot of jopsons "goodness" hinges of crozier providing him w the trust he needs to unfold these qualities. and w that gone, i think that leaves him as someone v smart, in a position where he has access to a lot of information, and also in a state of absolutely crushed hopes and reopened trauma. and that certainly does put you in a set of mind doesnt it?? atp his trust in the remaining leadership might be v fragile and he would certainly wonder how any of this would go on. so hed either implode and fucking idk. wither. (which, for the record, i think he would Not do) Or! he would decide that alright. no one left to handle this but himself so time to take matters into his own hands! youve shot smaller hawks than this tommy its time to get out of here! which, again, is where i think a possible hickey alliance, maybe via billy, might take place. if jopson and hickey would team up for a mutiny they would definitely constantly be daydreaming of killing each other <3 not to be me but i would read the fuck out of a hickeyjopson mutiny vs a solittefitz alliance. give me intrigue! give me bastardry! give me some fucking losers dishing it out in the canadian arctic over the worlds worst buffet options!

this is not necessarily a full point on its own but more of an addendum: i genuinely think jopson has it in him to pull a dundy. aka i think he v much does strike me as someone who would stage a quiet not so much mutiny but a quiet usurpation of power through simple calculated ruthlessness. which! speaking of usurpation!

option d) jopson decides that hes the only competent bitch left and the only way to ensure everyones survival is to go full grima wormtongue and become the puppet master advisor to littles captain. little would actually let this happen and might even welcome it. we know this guy is genetically engineered to follow orders. dont say i never did anything for joplittle enjoyers!!!

crozier dies during the walkout at any point:

i dont really have anything big for this. it would be bad but depending on what has happened at that point (how scurvy ridden is fitzjames? is jopson a lieutenant yet? has hickey killed irving already?) it might not change too much tbh

if he gets shot during morfins suicide it would be disastrous i think but it might actually make the men come closer together again maybe? if little becomes captain then and there maybe the mutiny might get prevented or at least postponed bc little would let the marines get their armed patrol and thus might not be as resentful/mistrusting toward command. ofc little As A Captain trusting tozer and getting fucking bamboozled by him if the mutiny still happened would be an even worse look lmfao. that is if morfin shot him. if it was however a Marine who shot crozier…… well. i think thered be an execution first thing at daybreak! and any and all weapons would be under lock and key w extra attention to the point that i think not even armitage would hand them out. plus lbr it wouldve been tozer in this scenario w the killing shot so! armitage without tozer…. does that poor lad even know how to exist when he is not in sols orbit. how would hickey exploit this….. (also extremely evil version is jopson shooting crozier which is so evil that we do not consider it. goodbye)

if crozier dies pre tuunbaq attack id be curious if the (attempted) hanging would still happen. i personally think it would, simply bc hickey would definitely try to start some shit and fitzjames would be wary enough to order a post mortem on irving plus jopson would definitely catch that rat. maybe he would actually hang, even, but that depends on whether little as his captain or fitzjames as the overall expedition commander would give the little speech beforehand. if it's fitzy, either him or hickey in his response would run out of time before the tuunbaq shows up and hickey would escape, but if it's little theres a real chance he would shortly state some dry facts let hickey speak for two sentences of last words maximum and then get it over with. and now That would be a fascinating scenario to explore. crozier gone, hickey gone, camp in ruins, dozens of men dead, fitzscurvy left in charge. would there be a second mutiny? des voeux, perhaps? or billy himself (he was also an architect of this!!! he burned the fucking maps!!! billy was not regular rat who marrydivorcemarried the evil rat he was evil rat no2!!! simply a less flashy (fleshy….. hah) flavour!!!) just quietly absconding w a bunch of men into the fog? what would tozer do, if he had survived and hickey hadn't?

last minute death scenarios

anything w crozier dead before hickey could capture him would not change much i think. maybe hickey would deflate some upon the news but hed still capture goodsir and still die as a wannabe new god. i think the real tragedy would be if little was left as the only captain after fitzjames' death. that man was Not made to carry such a burden and dundy would smell the blood in the water and ursurp him early i think, which ironically might lead to a scenario where there could be a sliver of hope for survival for the healthier parts of the crew

if crozier died during the capture bc hartnell didnt take the bullet hickey would fucking kill whoever fired that shot (i do not remember who it was. golding? was it golding? i fucking hate that guy i can easily belive it was golding) and i think hartnell and little and whoever else was there would either escalate the situation into a shootout to avoid the mutineers taking croziers body for food (lbr hickey would love to eat that old man) and die right then right there or maybe get themselves captured bc everything is just pointless now (unlikely outcome imo the tension would be too high) OR theyd somehow get the fuck out of there, organize a party of men to take the mutineers and have a final showdown (unless dundy intervened and ursurped ofc) which means: tuunbaq survives!!! yay :D good ending for silna :) she has not lost the tuunbaq so maybe even no exile <33

if crozier just died during the final tuunbaq fight: no changes at all

which concludes my thoughts! this turned out way longer than i expected and honestly did not focus on little v much but it was super interesting to consider all these scenarios so thank u burrowingregg for giving me the idea to begin with :) i would also be super curious to hear everyone elses thoughts on this so please do chime in!!

#sorry the formatting on this is atrocious ik but i ahve been trying to press the fucking post button three times now #and every time tumblr told me to go fuck myself so i switched devices and had to send myself the entire post via fucking Texts #bc it wouldnt even save as a draft. hellsite. also its way past midnight and im tired so pls excuse any typos rip #the terror #id genuinely be so curious abt anyones thoughts tho! if i missed or misremebred sth pls also tell me bc lbr the likelyhood is high rn #also if anyone wanted to expand upon any of this. say. in fic form or sth..... [eye emoji] pls do so. #i have half a page of notes for a 'hickey got hanged before the tuunbaq sshowed up but tozer didnt' scenario myself #but i will not be writing that anytime soon due to Real Life rip :/

[hmshermitcraft]

Etho got bit not terribly long ago. He successfully convinced Pause and Beef to go on without him. The bite take a while to make someone undead, like, it has to kill you first and then it'll bring you back, so Etho's been getting weaker and slower and sicker over a few days now and he knows that it'd be detrimental to his friends survival if they stuck together until Etho but the dust. twice. So with a tearful goodbye he watched his friends continue on to their ultimate destination.

Problem being, Etho hasn't turned yet. He's miserable sick and missing a chunk of memory which makes him think that he's now a zombie, but he's not mindless or hungrier than usual or violent or anything. So what gives? Another thing, the infected pass him by. A few come over and sniff at him, some even including him in their daytime huddle piles. (He's pretty sure they do that to protect their eyes? They all crowd together and shove their faces at one another to cover their eyes, so. That's Etho's theory.)

So the infected don't mind him, awesome! that'll make travel so much easier! But! He can't really stand anymore. He has trouble breathing and moving in the day and it's even worse at night. He doesn't know how to make it better but he's sticking by a river so he at least has water.

He hears engines and laughter, he must be finally dying. (He's not)

It's Scar! Scar on a 4-wheeler electric solar powered wheelchair that looks more like an off road go kart than a mobility aid. The things decked out and to top it all off Scar's got a shotty that don't miss.

Scar finds him, introduces himself kindly, and then almost kills him because Etho looks dead as hell and can't really articulate words of any sort. Scar sees him, sick and immobile and in a great deal of pain, and thinks "ah yes, I shall take it with me" so he gets Etho up and wrapped in a sleeping bag and curled up sideways on his lap.

The journey starts slow, with Etho doing just. Terribly. The movement of riding on the chair makes him queasy and he's awkward talking to Scar when he has the energy to do so. Over time Etho gets a little better, being able to rest easy with the promise of protection helps him out a lot. He's sleeping a lot, which means Scar can go fast through the woods and down abandoned roads.

Etho gets strong enough to walk alongside Scar, though they both prefer to just cuddle the whole time to uh, "make faster progress". But he's doing good, and scars really nice, and it turns out that they're heading to the same place that Etho was originally, so the odds of running I to his friends are high.

Then they start smoochin, gods the first time they did that Etho nearly went into cardiac arrest. He got actually ill because he was feeling so many feelings that his body didn't know what to do, they both laughed about it, and scar gave him lots of kissies to get him used to it.

By the time they make it to the safe zone Etho can race scar through the woods on foot and is proficient at kissing, much to the surprise of a delighted pause and beef, who thought he was dead for sure.

-carrie

Sorry it's so long, I got 'carrie'd (hah) away

Etho still isn't sure what he is, or what this means for him. It feels like he went through the whole zombie process, yet... He's fairly sure he isn't a zombie. But he's not necessarily sure if he's unturned, either.

The zombies still don't bother him, which makes supply runs a whole lot easier. Even sitting on Scar means they don't get much more than a few curious zombies sniffing at them. He takes advantage of it to go out of supply runs as often as he can. He wants to make sure he's earning his place in this safe zone.

All four of them decided not to tell anybody about Etho being bitten. It's safest, they don't know how people will react and- they won't let Etho get hurt. They can't.

Scar promises that if they need to be, they'll be out of that compound. They'll make their own safe area, together. Scar promise.

#hermitshipping #ask #scar tag #etho tag #pause tag #beef tag #scartho #carrie anon #mod 🎀 #weekly theme: apocalypse

[pineapplecrushface]

WIP Tuesday

Something about Buck and Eddie hugging for the first time in like four years made me think about how affectionate Buck is and then this happened.

“Does it feel weird to you?” Eddie asked when Buck had returned with more beer. “Not weird. Different, I mean.”

“What, being with a guy?” Buck tipped his head back and forth in a so-so gesture when Eddie nodded. “Sometimes. I keep catching myself feeling like I’m not supposed to like something, and I have to train myself to stop.”

“Like what?” Eddie asked before he thought it through. He held up a hand. “No intimate details.”

Buck laughed, his entire face going pink. He ducked his head and took a sip of beer. “Well, that is part of it. But no, it’s more like…he, uh, he calls me baby. And he holds me. I don’t think anyone’s ever done that, because I’m bigger, right? And the women I’ve dated, they liked that I was bigger and stronger than they were. And I’m discovering I kinda like that too. But.”

“But it feels like you’re not supposed to like it,” Eddie said.

“Yeah. So there’s a lot of arguing with my own stupid hang-ups.” Buck sighed. “I really didn’t think I had that many. Not about masculinity or whatever.”

Eddie hummed, not quite in agreement, thoughtful. Would he feel weird about it if a guy held him? Probably a little. He wasn’t very physically affectionate at the best of times, although he found it easier after he’d been dating someone a while. Really, he’d only ever been perfectly comfortable touching a few people. Chris, of course, after the awkwardness of figuring out how to hold a baby. Shannon, when they weren’t fighting.

And Buck. He was very comfortable touching Buck, so there was at least one guy he wouldn’t feel totally weird about being held by. For a moment he imagined the two of them wrapped around each other and it warmed him so much he smiled down at his beer—he could almost feel it, Buck throwing his whole body into it and tucking his face into Eddie’s neck like he did when they hugged. But it would be longer than a hug, and they’d relax into it, breathe each other in. Breathe easier, probably, because they wouldn’t have to pull away. Buck would mumble Ten minutes until we have to pick up Christopher, and Eddie would rub his cheek on Buck’s neck and say You can fall asleep if you want to, baby, I’ll wake you up—

He just barely managed not to twitch so hard he spilled his beer.

“You okay?” Buck asked, leaning forward on his elbow and licking beer from his lips. “You were zoned out pretty hard.”

“No, it’s,” he said, looking around and patting himself down to feel for his phone, wallet, keys. “Uh. I just realized I have to go pick up some stuff for Marisol. A project. She has a project she’s working on and I forgot.”

It wasn’t a complete lie; Marisol did have a list of things she’d asked him to pick up at the hardware store, but she wasn’t starting until Saturday. Buck gave him a skeptical look like he knew her renovation schedule better than Eddie did—and knowing Buck, he probably did—but only nodded.

“See you later,” Eddie said, throwing him a distracted wave and fleeing—actually jogging, running away from his best friend, until he was in his truck and panting and shaking his head because he did not run.

Hmm. You kinda do though, he thought, and it was Buck’s voice, and he was right. He ran and would continue to run because this, this wasn’t a thing he needed or wanted. Right? Right.

But he couldn’t help but poke at it one more time to make sure.

Buck. Buck’s big body around him, his big warm hands sliding down Eddie’s back, Buck laughing against his lips, giving him every bit of his endless reservoir of affection and love. Buck loving him.

 Eddie scrunched up his face and clenched his hands in the air before he smacked the steering wheel. Shit. Shit.

“Okay, it’s fine,” he said, smoothing his hands over the steering wheel like it was mad at him. Everything was fine. He didn’t have to think about it. He was in control of his own emotions. He was not a guy who was in love with his best friend. He was a guy who could compartmentalize and ignore uncomfortable things until they went away.

And eventually blew up in his face. But that was for future Eddie to handle. He had Frank and several excellent coping strategies and Muay Thai with his best friend's boyfriend who got to touch him all the time. It was fine. He was fine.

#911 #fic #evan buckley #eddie diaz #buddie

[ryuusei-niu]

BoO spoilers ‼️

Excuse me, ladies, gentlemen and monarchs, I'm going to ramble (angst) about Leo

I can't stop thinking about the days before Leo did you know what in BoO. I JUST CAN'T STOP THINKING ABOUT HOW HE COULD FEEL

Like, dude, he was about to go and maybe DIE. TO SAVE THE WHOLE FRICKIN WORLD.

Until then everything is fine (no, it is not). Because "between fire and storm, the world must fall." He was the fire. It was him or Jason and he didn't plan to die, he had a plan. Of course.

Only maybe that plan wouldn't work.

And I can't stop thinking about it. Like, c'mon! We all know Leo, we know that he is not a coward but he is not very attracted to the idea of ​​putting himself in danger. He is a person, he can't help but not want to die. On few occasions he wanted or avoided putting himself in danger, knowing that someone else was going to be in danger.

So why did he sacrifice himself for everyone? Why did he do it when there was a strong possibility of not coming back from the explosion?

I can't help but think that there was a part of him that didn't really care about not coming back.

Did he have future plans? Yes. Did he have people he cared about and wanted to be with? Double yes. He could have avoided the drama, fixed Festus correctly and with the help of the others, go and save Calypso and end of the history, everyone happy.

Then, why?

It's simple math. Cruel and horrible simple math.

He would always be the seventh wheel.

'But Ryuu, he had friends and his friends cared about him and-'

I don't care, Martha, just hear me out and shut up (with love).

He had no place as such among the seven. It was him. And the metallic dragon, let's not forget Festus. But it was him at the end of the day.

They needed someone who would sacrifice themselves for the group, with the risk of not returning.

I feel like Leo didn't even need to think about it.

Because the loneliness he felt in those few days was enough to make him realize it. The loneliness of his entire life was enough to realize it.

Although he was an important member, he ended up being left over. He was a piece that others could do without, find a replacement. Move on.

(And it makes me angry to know that it was part of Hera's plan, because if he hadn't been rejected his whole life he wouldn't have sacrificed himself.)

I feel that in part, it was easier for Leo to sacrifice himself, maybe come back, and be a hero, or maybe not come back, than stay there. Just like the clown he was. The seventh wheel.

Because maybe, if he didn't come back, they were finally going to miss him a little.

Maybe, if he didn't come back, they were going to feel more than just pity, or anger at him.

Maybe, if he died, he would have a little more presence than if he stayed.

He already saw it once. Two, to be specific. In both of them he came back and in both of them his friends forgot about him not long after.

That also helped him decide that he should be the one to sacrifice himself.

He couldn't leave Piper without Jason.

I feel like Leo thought maybe he was easier to forget. And at the same time he hated that.

At the same time he didn't want to die. But he didn't mind.

And I can't help but imagine what the last days, the last hours, must have been like for him, knowing that maybe he was going to die and none of his friends knew. He wasn't going to get to say goodbye properly. And he felt bad for wanting, deep down, to see them cry over the idea of ​​him not coming back. Because he wanted to feel important and worthy of being missed at least once.

#leo valdez #riordanverse #heroes of olympus #pjo hoo toa #jason grace #piper mclean #percy jackon and the olympians #angst

[scribblestatic]

I hope y'all had a good 4/20. Anyway, here's more Sheepzun.

---

Finding his way out of the caves was much easier than going in. The flow of qi seemed easier for him to discern, and his senses were stronger. How curious! He was sure he'd be able to sense predators much easier now.

He cloaked himself in his qi and snuck out the caves, ensuring no one was looking at or for him. This time around, it seemed he had enough qi to do so easier than before, not feeling any pull or strain on his meridians.

He was a right chuffed lad, all things considered!

Shen Yuan made his way back to Qing Jing Peak without much of an issue. Disciples didn't seem to sense his hiding. Those with stronger cultivation did seem to look around, a tad unsettled if anything, but overall, none of them saw through his illusion.

It also helped that he was a prey animal who preferred to not leave things up to risk or chance when being careful was a perfectly reasonable option.

As he travelled, he noticed that the season seemed a little different. A tad on the warmer side than he last remembered. He had entered a few days after spring began, and the flowers he remembered were supposed to bloom seemed to already be at the end of its blooming cycle...

Was it the end of spring? Goodness, time flew!!

Thankfully, not an excessive amount of time passed since, upon making his way out of the forest near the woodshed, Luo Binghe didn't look too much taller. Yes, at the very least, only a few days or weeks had passed.

Hearing Shen Yuan's purposeful rustling, Luo Binghe's slightly pointy ears almost seemed to twitch. Then, he turned around quickly, eyes wide and swiftly becoming watery with unshed tears.

"Shizun!!"

Shen Yuan huffed, amused as the boy, sticky as ever, ran up to him and immediately hugged him around the neck.

"Shizun! Shizun, you came back! Shizun!!"

'Who do you keep calling out for, ah? I'm right here,' Shen Yuan thought.

Luo Binghe went still.

"...Shizun?"

'Yes?'

The boy suddenly let go of him and leaned back, staring right into his eyes. Then, slowly, like the flowers he missed bloom at the start of spring, Luo Binghe's smile spread across his face in a vibrant flourish.

"Shizun!! Shizun, you can talk now?!"

Shen Yuan paused, blinking.

'...You can hear what this one is...saying.'

"Yes, I can! I can finally understand you, Shizun! Has my cultivation gotten better? Is... Is this because of what you taught me?"

I don't know, what the heck?! This is scary!!

So, if he was actually thinking as though he was speaking to Luo Binghe, then the boy would actually hear it? After all, he wasn't responding to his thoughts now. Was this because he taught a spirit creature's Dao to a human that he became Dr. Dolittle? That's an entire genre change!

...Whatever that was supposed to mean! Who even was Dr. Dolittle?!

'...Indeed, it seems likely. However, this one admits that this is the first time he's taught this Dao to a human,' Shen Yuan replies, his mind in utter disarray and panic. 'As much as you are a student, this ram is still learning himself.'

There's no precedent for this! I'm sorry, Binghe! This ram is only about a year old!

Luo Binghe looked as though the meaning of the Dao was explained to him in elementary terms, as though he made a huge mental breakthrough with his words alone.

"I see... Thanking Shizun for his knowledge and education all this time!"

He bowed so respectfully, Shen Yuan immediately felt like a terrible saber-toothed wolf dressed up like a newly born spirit lamb to prey on the little human's trust.

But, well, he was at least somewhat honest just now. He really was also a student in all of this.

'This ram thanks you as well. Even through our language barrier, you've been an exemplary student. Now that we can understand each other more freely, we can further improve your cultivation.'

"Yes, Shizun! I'm looking forward to it!"

Shit.

[More under the cut, this one just got kinda long]

----

Okay, so, it wasn't all that bad.

One, it really was much easier to speak with Bing-lamb, and the boy seemed to flourish further under his his verbal guidance. He didn't really have to say much, though. Whatever Luo Binghe lacked in prowess, he was steadily making up for it in motivation.

All Shen Yuan had to do was correct him a little here and there based on whatever kind of strange animal instinct he had that said,

'This stance is a little off. Keep you knees elastic. Firm, but ready.'

or

'You must connect with your surroundings and hone to your senses. Humans, as predators, rely strongly on their eyes. But you must learn to use your nose, ears, and touch as well.'

"What about taste, Shizun?"

'There are some things a mouth shouldn't touch. We can build up to that as you learn more.'

Though, perhaps he asked such questions because Shen Yuan occasionally found himself chewing on Luo Binghe's clothes. It was more affectionate grooming for the boy than anything, honestly. But he was also a prey creature rather than a human, so it could be excused as such.

Two, after Luo Binghe's lessons with the human instructors, Luo Binghe would sometimes ask him for questions and clarification as he did the pile of chores constantly assigned to him. What was with all these duties, anyway? Weren't all of the disciples supposed to do these things? They were working too hard on purpose, but why?

Anyway, despite not being a human, it turned out Shen Yuan could read quite well. He wasn't sure where he'd learned such a skill, but it was nice to see it be useful. So, because Luo Binghe's questions never got answered in class, as the boy's Shizun, he took it upon himself to do his best to help.

It meant he sometimes had to get a bit creative with how he explained things, but he was doing well enough, it seemed.

Of course, there were limits to what he could do.

As a ram, teaching the four arts was mostly out of the question. Give him some paints and he could maybe bang something out on a canvas, but he had no guarantee it would look like anything useful or recognizable. Same for a guqin or calligraphy.

Go...well, if the pieces and board were big enough, maybe. But anyway, he had his limitations. Not that Luo Binghe seemed to see any of them. With the way Shen Yuan loafed and Luo Binghe sat in front of him, his workbook open, one would think he'd hung the moon.

It was...admittedly very nice to be so appreciated.

Also, getting petted. He'd stopped for a bit after they first spoke, but Luo Binghe did it by accident again later. When Shen Yuan stayed quiet without scolding the action and slightly shifting his head closer, well, he got the picture.

And snacks. Luo Binghe didn't have access to a full kitchen for reasons he didn't understand, but Shen Yuan just knew. The day he had kitchen privileges, it was over for Qing Ding Peak. They'd become Qing Ding Restaurant or something.

Although he still had to be careful, he found he was actually starting to enjoy living the way he was now. He didn't feel the need to look over his shoulder as often, Prey and predator, bridging the gap, huh? What a lovely story.

As Luo Binghe improved, keeping his sheep shizun a secret, several more months passed. Spring turned into summer, into fall, into winter, into spring, into the touches of summer heat once more.

Over that year, Luo Binghe grew taller and broader. His shoulders were starting to fill out, his hands and feet better sized for his body. From his experience working with his shizun's hair-like wool, he learned how to take care of his own hair better, the curls becoming shinier and tamable, no longer as difficult to pull into a ponytail. He also learned all the little nooks and crannies of Qing Jing Peak after going foraging with his shizun, and the mountain climbing and hunting he'd done for himself.

He'd thought his shizun would be against him hunting the birds and other creatures on and around the peak, but though he never partook himself, he was ambivalent.

'You are human. Even sheep eat meat when necessary. For you, it's even more so. This ram shan't fault his student for doing the best for himself.'

And so, with his own hunting skills built up, despite still living and sleeping in the wood shed and lacking some of the more artistic prowess of his sect siblings, he's grown considerably in strength, speed, and build. As he sometimes heard his shizun murmur, 'Born to Bai Zhan, raised to Qing Jing, manages both.'

Meanwhile, Shizun himself...

Luo Binghe had visited Xin Ya Peak before, alongside some of his sect siblings. He'd seen what spirit sheep normally looked like--fluffy, with slightly curved horns, and a nice sheen to their wool. Not particularly tall--mostly reaching around their knees or thighs.

Shizun, however, drew much more regal of a figure. His wool was less fluffy but somehow even softer. He was taller, too, reaching up to the bottom of Luo Binghe's chest. His horns had grown out considerably, to the point they were curling outward. Unlike his farmed comrades, Shizun was exceptionally fastidious. Though, it likely helped he was not locked into a barn or kept around mud. So, he was not only impeccably clean, but he kept a long, undocked tail that swayed behind him with his steps.

He kept his wool a beautiful shade of ivory white. The only discolorations were the slightly green tones that occasionally hung onto his stomach and legs from loafing on the grasses around the bamboo forest and the ever-present blood red huadian on his forehead. Moreover, after Shizun had returned from wherever he'd gone, his eyes had changed. Irises that were once a striking brown had become a soothing blue-green color, much like the peak colors of Qing Jing.

Perhaps spirit animals needed less effort to attain godhood. Luo Binghe could believe it. After all, his shizun appeared like a god nowadays.

'Binghe' he'd hear, his soft and elegant voice calling out to him in the dewy mornings.

He would look up to see his shizun returning from some place he'd found his wild breakfast, leaving him to sleep longer because, as the ram said, he was a growing boy and needed it more.

The sun would peek out at just the right time to shine on his arrival, making him look ethereal, even if he was holding moss in his mouth.

'Have you eaten yet? If not, add this to your food today. It has absorbed quite a bit of yin qi. Considering your yang constitution, it will help promote more internal balance.'

Shizun places the stringy, thick moss in Luo Binghe's waiting hands.

'This is called Qiyan Root, despite not being a root at all. Strain and boil it twice for the best effect. You can also dry some of it for medicinal use. It should taste quite nice in an herbal tea.'

His shizun hummed in consideration as he tilted his head, long white lashes against the fur of his cheeks.

Luo Binghe couldn't help but wonder what his shizun would look like as a human. He was quite the handsome animal, much like one would compliment a horse for its strong physique and beautiful sheen. Surely he'd be a handsome human as well.

Though, wondering such a thing would have to wait. It was time for morning chores, then his lessons could begin in earnest.

It was after one such set of lessons with his other teachers, when he was chopping wood with his shizun at his side that the ram suddenly raised his head with a frown.

"Shizun?"

'...The air feels different. What do you sense?'

Having learned his cultivation mostly from a spirit animal rather than a human, Luo Binghe honed his senses and listened. Indeed, the peak seemed quiet. Too quiet, however.

"Something's not right... Shizun, I'll be back."

'Be careful, Binghe.'

The boy nodded in return before he ran off, Shen Yuan staying behind as he tried to better understand what this energy fluctuation actually was.

Eventually, curiosity and concern won out over wariness, and he concealed himself as he headed toward the rainbow bridges separating Qing Jing from the other peaks.

There, he found several demons cracking away at the bridge between Qing Jing and Qiong Ding. Several were smaller demons with tiny horns and large machetes in their spindly hands. They were accompanied by a larger, more boubous demon in a loincloth, using an axe to slice and wear away at the energies keeping the rainbow bridge connected.

A siege? But this is Cang Qiong, one of the most powerful sects! How could these demons have the gall?!

Shen Yuan wasn't aware of the politics that came with running a peak, so, of course, he was unaware of the peak lord's absence. Several lords were away--more than honestly permissible--leaving the little lamb-like disciples without their guard dogs. Though, judging from the coordinated actions of the demons, the little troupe he was looking at was the least of his worries.

Binghe!!

If he was running this way, then surely he would've encountered the demons! But he could smell no blood or anything from his student. Perhaps he already passed through before they arrived. After all, behind the troupe, he could see several groups of demons destroying the bridges and leaving the peaks isolated...

No, not all the peaks. Qiong Ding.

Something about this scenario struck him as...oddly familiar.

But he shoved that thought aside. Now wasn't the time for excessive questioning! His student was in danger!

As much as he liked to believe he prepared Luo Binghe for combat in some meaningful way, he would never overestimate his teaching abilities. He's a ram for fucks sake, how could he be much better than human teachers and their opposable thumbs?!

Not letting up his concealing qi, he began running across the bridge, heading straight for the small crowd of demons.

Though they couldn't see him, his weight and trotting seemed to alert them as they turned his way. Cruel smirks spread on the imps' faces as they raised their weapons and prepared to strike.

Deciding not to conceal himself anymore, he instead focused his qi on his attack, suddenly appearing before them. For some reason, they seemed surprised despite already preparing to attack him.

His qi-filled horns collided with one of their machetes, causing it to crack and shatter. Milliseconds later, the same cracking and shattering came from the imp's ribs.

Gritting his teeth, he flung his head to the right, throwing several of the imps off the cracking bridge. But he still had some momentum and wasn't done yet.

Facing the bulbous demon and its large axe, he charged up as much as he could, enough that his horns began to glow dimly.

The demon bellowed as it swung the axe, intending to split his skull. But Shen Yuan was faster.

Putting more force in his back legs, he jumped forward, tucking his front legs close to his body. His curved horns rammed against the demon's chest, the bones giving way under it. It let out a choke, then it spit up blood as the wind moved around them.

When the demon fell back, Shen Yuan blinked, realizing he was going butt up.

With a surprised bleat, his legs stretched out as the momentum had him flopping on his back above the demon's head. At least it was on solid ground! Dirt, even!

He wiggled, then quickly got himself up, shaking the dust off his head. Reorienting himself, he realized he was on Qiong Ding Peak. Huh... He didn't think the demon was so close to the land there, but maybe he miscalculated.

Anyway, Binghe!

Worried about his student, he quickly ran off to find where he was, concealing himself behind a cloak of qi once more.

Of course, Shen Yuan missed several things.

For one, the imps and demons had not noticed him at all. What they had noticed were several Qing Jing disciples arriving with their swords drawn.

Secondly, the machetes and axes the demons held were not supposed to crack so easily to a ram's horns. They were made with reinforced metals to be sturdy. A regular spirit sheep would've long lost its horns and skull to them.

Thirdly, the largest demon on the bridge had indeed been standing further away from Qiong Ding Peak, and Shen Yuan hadn't miscalculated. He just didn't realize that his body, weighing over 160 kg (352.7 lbs) plus the force of his qi-powered forward thrust was, even by physics standards, enough to blow a large demon backwards by several meters and shatter their collarbone on impact.

He'd turned his body into a literal battering ram.

Lastly, the Qing Jing disciples, whom the demons actually saw and prepared to fight, were able to witness the entire event, and were now staring, wide-eyed, at the large, mystical, disappearing sheep.

...But those were concerns for the future Shen Yuan.

#sheepzun au #svsss #svsss au #static drabbles #au post 4 #static writes #shen yuan does a whoops #he's got binghe on the brain he can't help it

[rainylana]

Patty Munson

note: a potential series if you guys want it! so please, let me know your thoughts and if you like my version of eddie’s daughter, named after pat benatar!

warnings: mentions of an absent parent, single dad!eddie, and language.

Patty Munson was the exact replica of her dad. From her looks to her attitude, you knew she was the daughter of Eddie Munson. With curly, jet black hair and doe, brown eyes, she had a spit fire attitude that raised a brow with strangers.

She didn’t like her vegetables like him, either, but Eddie always made sure she ate them off her little plate. “Eat at least some of it, Patty.” He’d say.

She started cursing at four, and though Eddie tried to correct her when she’d say something inappropriate at the age of five, he always had a laugh about it when she wasn’t around.

“Look at this crazy bastard, daddy!” She had said, holding up a fish that Uncle Wayne had helped her catch. Wayne shook his head, laughing quickly behind her with a hand to her back, making sure she didn’t slip in the mud.

“Patricia.” He tried to keep his voice from shaking from a choked laugh. “What did I say about grown up words?”

She was an extremely stubborn child. She liked doing things herself, absolutely everything. She was a daredevil, another thing she’d gotten from him. She almost always threw a fit when she had to hold his hand when crossing the street. He had just began letting her get the mail down at the driveway by herself, and she was smiling widely the whole walk down there.

Her mom had left Patty to him after she’d delivered her, and Eddie hadn’t heard from her since. It was hard raising her alone, especially in the beginning, suffering from a broken heart. If it hadn’t been for Wayne and his friends, he surely would have crumbled.

She didn’t talk much about the fact she didn’t have a mom around, but Eddie knew one day she’d start asking questions. The idea of it made him sick to his stomach.

She liked her dad’s tattoos. She colored on some of them sometimes with markers. He had outlines, line work, of tattoos that “need pretty pink color, daddy.”.

When she was a baby, she pulled on his hair all the time. Never Steve’s or Nancy’s. Always dad’s. Eddie never had trouble with the terrible two’s, however three was a particular rough age. She was sick a lot then. Nothing serious, but it always seemed she had a cold or some sort of allergy. He took of work a lot during that time and lost money he didn’t have to loose, but he made it work. He quickly learned that as a parent, you somehow always found a way to manage. It was a superpower.

She was a good kid. She didn’t cry much as a baby, and when she does cry, it’s usually when she’s tired. She hates naps, but anytime she pouts and her lip pulls down, her eyes start to water and she stomps her foot, Eddie knows she’s ready to take a nap. He can almost always bribe her to lay down with reading a story to her.

Anytime she tries a new food, he always makes sure they’re at the parking lot of the hospital, paranoid you’re going to be allergic to something he’s given you. He also learned that being a parent takes years off your life. You’re scared all the time, yet you’ve never been happier. You love like you’ve never loved before. It was the most joyous, powerful thing he’d ever felt. Patty was the love of his life.

She always wants to go to work with dad. She doesn’t like school much. Yet another thing she got from Eddie. She’s good at her letters and numbers, has friends, but more often than not she’s being send home with a note about cursing in class or saying something out of turn.

Her first day of school was hard on both of them. She didn’t understand why dad couldn’t stay. He tried to make it seem like a playdate with all her friends, just a really long play date. He almost cried on the way home, hating the way she cried with her teacher when he left. It was like that everyday for the first week of school, becoming easier over time,

The first time Eddie punished her he could barely do it. He’d told her she couldn’t watch tv before bed. She’d gotten angry and cussed at him. He almost backed down, because it was his fault she learned the words anyways. But he stayed strong, though her tears tore him up on the inside, thinking that she would hate him forever. Another thing he learned, kids got over things quickly.

Patty and Eddie were best friends, two peas in a pod. They were the dictionary definition of father and daughter. He loved nothing more on planet earth than her, and he knew now, that his life finally had meaning.

#eddie munson #dad!eddie munson #eddie munson fluff #dad!eddie headcanons #eddie munson fic #patty munson #stranger things #stranger things season four #joseph quinn #eddie munson imagines

[gojos-fr-bae]

𝔚𝔥𝔞𝔱 𝔏𝔬𝔳𝔢𝔯𝔰 𝔇𝔬 𝔓𝔱. 2 (ℜ𝔢𝔪𝔞𝔰𝔱𝔢𝔯𝔢𝔡)

Part 1, Part 2

Pairing: CEO!Gojo x Fem!Lawyer!Reader

Warnings: Cussing, Drinking, A slap (or punch, I don't rly remember) Toji in his boxers bc why tf not. only a tad bit of angst at the beginning, the rest is pretty chill, Not proofread (honestly, are we shocked)

Word Count: 1.7k

A/N:😌🤭🏃🏿‍♀️😍😎😋

Minors DNI

You were seated outside with your boss who had long calmed down but still clutched your arm tight, his head still buried in the crook of your neck. You were sure that people were already questioning your disappearances and you were sure you would return to some distasteful rumors. First he saves you a seat next to him and then you both run off somewhere for almost half an hour. Fuck, this is not good.

“S-sir, I think we need to leave.” you murmured softly, not wanting to startle him in this fragile state.

He simply just hummed and nuzzled deeper into your neck.

“Mr. Gojo I’m being serious, please let go of me, we need to leave.” You stated, this time your voice is much firmer. 

Finally getting the hint, he pulled away from you, uttering a soft apology and  letting go of your hand as he stared down at the ground. Although his bangs were blocking his face slightly, you didn’t miss how dejected he looked. 

You were about to say something but got startled by the door leading inside opening abruptly. Your heart sank for a moment before looking up and noticed that the person who opened said door was Nanami, Gojo’s personal assistant. Even though you didn’t know him too well, from your interactions, he seemed nothing like his boss so you still held onto a string of hope for your reputation.

He looked at you and Satoru, his eyes traveling from you to Gojo before he sighed and rubbed the bridge of his nose.

“Miss,I’m so sorry for whatever it is that just happened, he’s probably just drunk.

“Oh, umm, yeah, it’s okay…i guess. I’m just going to head back inside if that’s fine.” You replied, getting up and quickly collecting your bag before heading for the door.

“Yes, of course, please, go ahead.” Nanami pointed towards the door and you couldn’t get out of there faster.

As you made your way to your seat, you didn’t miss the stares and whispers of everyone in the room. Great, just as you expected, everyone is probably making disgusting assumptions about you and at this point you wanted nothing more than to get home.

~

You sat on the island, hair in a mess and wine bottle in your hand while Toji worked at the stove, making you a grilled cheese. He was wearing nothing but his boxers and his body was covered in hickeys and scratch marks. To anyone else the scene may have seemed confusing yet for you, this was almost routine.

“And he wouldn’t let go? Toji asked, trying to wrap his mind around the story you had just told him about your awful night.

“YEAH, CAN YOU IMAGINE! I had to wait for his assistant to come bail me out and now everyone thinks I’m a slut who only got the job because I’m sleeping with the boss!!” You shouted in frustration before downing a big gulp of your wine.

“And what’s so wrong about that?” Toji asked, smirking at you while he slid you your sandwich. You just trolled your eyes at him. 

“Well unlike YOU, that’s not the type of image I want to uphold.”

“Yeah, whatever you say sweetheart. Anyway, you didn’t fuck him did you?”

“Ew, OF COURSE NOT!!”

“Then what are you so worried about, the rumors will die out. Everyone will forget about this shit after his next scandal so just hold out for like, a week or two.”

“Ugh, that’s easier said than done.”

“What's happened has happened princess, nothing we can do about that except move on, now is there?”

“I guess not,” You sighed.

“Exactly. So stop worrying your pretty little head over this.” He said before pressing a peck on your forehead and making his way to his room. “Don’t drink too much, you still have work tomorrow.”

You couldn’t do much but groan at the thought that you might have to see that man again. What the heck did you sign yourself up for?

~

You were sitting at your desk when the quiet  room suddenly filled with murmurs. You raised your head from the work you had buried it in to see what was causing such a stir. Your breathed hitched as you saw your boss, Gojo Satoru himself, walking up to you with a big fucking bouquet filled with a variety of flowers, half of which you had never seen in your entire life.

You tried to look away but your eyes had already met and you could only brace yourself for what was about to transpire.

Gojo walked over to your cubicle and gave you his signature blinding smile.

“Hey sweets, thanks so much for last night. I couldn’t stop thinking about you, as a matter of fact, I saw these through the shop window and couldn’t help but think it was meant for you,” a lie. Satoru had stood in the shop for hours painstakingly choosing all 162 flowers in that bouquet. But you didn’t need to know that. You reluctantly took the flowers from him, instantly regretting it when you heard everyone in the room gasp simultaneously. Oh shit. Why me! Why me! What did I do to deserve this! Those are all the phrases you were screaming in your head as Gojo leaned down to whisper in your ear.

“Also, come to my office at 1pm, okay?” His deep raspy voice said in a hushed tone, sending shivers down your spine. 

He then stood up straight and winked at you, before strutting out the room.

You immediately dropped the flowers on your desk and ran to the washroom and locked yourself in a stall. If you knew this job would come with so much bs you would’ve never taken it.

This isn’t like you. You really can’t be letting a man like him get under your skin.

Just then, you heard the washroom door swing open and heard two voices come in.

“Oh my gosh, did you see how that slut reacted when she saw Mr. Gojo walk in?” The first one quipped.

“Ugh, I know right, and did you hear what he said!? “Thank you for last night” I mean gosh!” replied the second.

“She probably only got the job from fucking him, did you hear that they’re paying her 50K!?”

“Girls these days! What kind of punch does she need to be packing under that ugly outfit of hers for her to seduce Mr. Gojo. I mean he’s WAY out of her league.”

“Mhm, it’s like seeing a literal god go out with a rat that was run over by a tricycle!”

They both began to cackle loudly and you finally snapped. You burst open the stall door and they turned around to face you in shock. They didn’t have time to process it though as you landed a harsh slap with all the force you could muster across their faces, walking out before they could even utter a word. Serves those bitches right.

You just went back to your desk and kept your head down, waiting until 1pm FINALLY but unfortunately arrived.

You slowly made your way to the top floor, before walking to his secretary’s desk. She looked up at you before speaking.

“He’s waiting for you, just go in,” she snarled, chewing her gum obnoxiously loud, her nails tapping away at her keyboard.

You just rolled your eyes at her before pushing the big office door open, closing it behind you and turning to face Gojo. He had his feet kicked up onto his huge desk, floor to ceiling windows making up the wall behind him, the bustling city of Tokyo laid out behind him.

He looked at you from behind his glasses, sirking cockily.

“So, you came,”

“Didn’t really have a choice considering everyone’s been treating me weird and like shit because they think we fucked.” you snapped at him.

“And what’s so bad about that?”

“Being treated like shit?” you questioned in disbelief.

“No, people thinking we’ve fucked. If anything, we probably should. Let’s give them something to REALLY talk about.” He replied, winking at you. The gall this man had.

“Sir, with all due respect, if that’s all you wanted to talk about then you are wasting my fucking time. I’ll just leave if-”

“No! No, don’t leave, that’s not what I asked you here for,” He said in a slightly panicked tone, standing up from his seat. “Look, I just wanted to, umm, thank you again for last night,” he said smoothly, regaining his suave persona.

“Were the flowers not enough because me, the rest of the employees and probably the whole world thought it was wayyyyy more than enough.” You replied in slight annoyance.

“What? No, of course not! Infact, I spent all day thinking of the best way to pay you back, and I finally got it.”

“And what may that be?”

“A shopping spree!!” he shouted, doing jazz hands at you.

“Sir, that is completely inappropriate and-”

“I’ll let you get whatever you want, no spending limit, it’s all on me” He cut you off, waving his AMEX in the air.

You wanted to say no, you wanted to say no so fucking bad. But your closet was in desperate need of a makeover, so was your bedroom, and your house. It was a golden opportunity, and no one in their right mind would say no.

“Fine, I’ll meet you at the mall at 6pm,”

“Oh no no no, that’s way too far away, come on, I already cleared you for the rest of the day, come on, let’s go!” he said in a chirpy voice. Skipping towards you, he grabbed your hand before dashing out of the room with you.

You were in for one heck of a day.

***

You were now in the basement parking of the building. Satoru slowly walked you to his reserved parking slot in which was parked a black, sleek mercedes. Your eyes widened at the sight and Gojo just smiled at your reaction, feeling his ego get boosted by tenfold.

“You like?” he asked, opening the passenger door and motioning for you to enter. You just ignored it, sitting in the car as he closed the door and ran around to the driver’s seat.

It felt so wrong. Not just the fact that it was you’re in your boss’ car, but the fact that it was a really expensive, really fancy car.

“So, are you ready to go?” Satoru asked, gazing at you.

“Sure. Why the fuck not!”

Part 1, Part 2

© gojos-fr-bae

#gojo satoru #gojo #jujutsu gojo #gojo x reader #gojo saturo #gojo x you #gojou satoru x reader #jjk gojo #gojo imagine #jujustu kaisen #gojo satoru x reader #gojo angst #gojou satoru x you #satoru gojo #satoru gojo x reader #jujutsu kaisen gojo #jujutsu kaisen #jujutsu kaisen x reader #jujutsu kaisen x you

[sweetteaanddragons]

Snippet from "Raise Them Well" Alt. PoV

Having trouble writing this one, so I hoped posting this would help inspire more.

Link to the original story here.

. . .

Tyelkormo was not much of one for drawing, but when he could be coaxed into artistic endeavors, he had a gift for capturing animals mid-motion. Anything stationary had a tendency to be rendered in a few careless strokes, too uninteresting to bother with details.

His latest efforts were stacked on hanno’s desk, intermingled with scraps of Makalaure’s latest songs. Nolofinwe had been straightening them compulsively for the last five minutes; it was easier than looking at Maitimo and seeing his own reflection in his brother-cousin’s eyes.

“Do you remember that picture of my mother I drew for Uncle Ingwion? I wanted to draw yours too, so I asked hanno for her hair color.”

He’d had rather confused ideas on how exactly motherhood worked at the time. It was only then that he’d fully comprehended that death was an aberration, not a prerequisite.

“I remember.” Maitimo’s voice was cautious from its place by the doorway he was still so carefully not-guarding.

They were not, technically, supposed to be in here alone. But no one would care too badly, and it was a day for doing not-quite things.

He would rather be in a courtyard, working through the patterns of his sword, but the halls were so crowded with people rushing, gossiping, preparing, and this had been the first room Maitimo could drag him to that they could trust to be empty of people who would wonder at the shaking of Nolofinwe’s hands.

“I remember Amil talked to us both after,” Maitimo added when Nolofinwe didn’t continue. “So we’d know what had really happened and wouldn’t have to hear it from rumors.”

There was an unspoken question in the way he said rumors: What have you heard? Is this what’s bothering you?

They had always heard rumors. That the old king had been cursed; that it was all Nolofinwe’s fault, all hanno’s fault, all the Valar’s fault, all - 

Always rumors.

“And then hanno came and got you for a lesson,” Nolofinwe said, “and she asked me if I had any questions.” He had not shared this part before. “I asked if it was true that not all of the dead could come back.”

They both knew the answer to that question, though Maitimo had not been there when Nolofinwe had first learned it, and Nolo had never spoken of it since.

“When she said it was, I said that I thought Atar should be the one to stay. That it seemed most fair.”

The word Atar felt awkward on his tongue. He pushed through it, forcing the syllables through; it didn’t matter if he could say it right, as long as he could say it with confidence; they both knew that lesson well enough. 

He would have to get used to the word. Best to practice now.

Especially when it would make it easier not to think of the rest of what he had confessed.

“It didn’t seem right for me to get my mother back, and hanno not to get his,” he said with a lightness he did not feel at all. “I thought we could both have a mother and be missing a father and that would be fair.” Not perfect, but fair, with a childish logic entirely centered on the feelings of those he knew and not on the desires of the people whose names he had most often heard in whispers.

It had suited him, selfishly, because he had not had a mother. He’d had ressë  - holding him, singing to him, helping mold clay into little pots until he tired of the art - but she could not cradle his fea as his mother would have.

As his brother had.

As a child he’d been able to picture how his mother could be added into their circle, nothing lost. But a father -

If the king - his father returned, things would change.

He had known, even then, it was a dangerous thing to say.

"And so perhaps it shall be,” Nerdanel had said. “But it hurts people to speak of it too much, and there is no use worrying over it yet; it shall yet be many long years until anything is decided.”

“I thought it would take longer,” he said, at last setting down the much abused papers with far too much force. He knew it must sound abrupt to Maitimo; he didn’t care. “So many others take longer.”

He looked at Maitimo, finally, and saw just what he should have expected; Maitimo leaning against the bar set across the door, unfairly tall and uncommonly worried, and trying with his slumped posture against the wood to deny both.

Still listening. Always listening until he knew just what word to use to strike.

“I thought I would have a chance to - “ He made a confused, too violent gesture, but Maitimo would know what he meant. He always knew what he meant.

He had grown up knowing he had killed his mother, but that it had not been his fault. Nerdanel had made sure he knew it was not his fault. How could you blame a baby for anything?

But it was his fault, even though he had not killed her. It was his fault because he would be dangerous to Melkor, and Melkor knew it.

He had thought he would have a chance to prove that danger. That Melkor had been right to fear him.

He had thought that when she emerged, he could stand before her and say, I avenged you, Amil. I was worth it.

“I know,” Maitimo said because he could keep no secrets from Maitimo, not really. “Maybe this way’s better. If she’s anything like the rest of us, she won’t just want to have heard you’ve done it; she’ll want to help.”

The words had just a hint of warning to them.

You promised, Nolo. Don’t you dare go running off alone. We do it together, or not at all.

It was how they did everything, of course. The only way. So he let out the rest of his tension with a long breath and bumped Maitimo’s shoulder in apology on his way to the barred door.

“Ready?” Maitimo murmured. 

By the time they slipped back to the rush of the corridor, both their faces were bright and pleased with the news of the royal couple’s return once more.

#silmarillion #maedhros #nolofinwe #raise them well or out of spite #feanor raises his half-brother au