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babydoll372 · 30 days ago

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maria hill showing off her girl to the other female avengers? (e.g. natasha) smut please <3

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Pairings: Maria Hill x reader (established), Natasha Romanoff x reader, Wanda Maximoff x reader, Carol Danvers x reader, Kate Bishop x reader

Word count: 2135

Warnings: smut, fluff, five-some, food play, voyeruism, mentions of age gap relationship, mommy (M), slapping (once), masturbation, praise kink

Maria Hill has been your beloved girlfriend for six months now, and you couldn’t be any happier. Yes, you were judged quite a lot the moment people heard the large gap between your ages, but she always comforted those fears away. And today you worked hard to make it perfect to thank her for all she’s done and to celebrate the, hopefully, many years to go. From morning when she left for work with a soft kiss to your lips and a promise of returning shortly, you instantly began the step-by-step process of decorating a heart-shaped cake. You watched the video in slow motion, backtracking it often to ensure no step was to be missed. And then it was done, and you put it in the freezer before setting a timer for when it could cool down in the fridge. You weren’t going to mess that step up.

You then hurried to the salon, asking the driver she provided you to ensure your secrecy in your whereabouts. The moment she pulled onto the main road you received a text from your girlfriend, she must’ve had alerts for whenever you left.

‘Where are you going?’ It was simple and small, but you read it with her demanding concern in your head.

‘It’s a secret! Please don’t track me, I’ll be safe, I promise!’ She eventually gave in after asking for multiple hints to which you didn’t give in. When you arrived you showed the photo you had found online, one you had been browsing upon and Maria seemingly enjoyed when you had handed her your phone. Now the nail tech could go off of reference and in less than an hour your hands and feet were carefully manicured. That left your hair, which was conveniently next door. When you arrived the lady gave you a short hug since she had already known you from many previous appointments. She happened to be the only woman you trusted with scissors in hand near your delicate locks. Luckily she wouldn’t be cutting anything today though, only styling.

By the time you were home, you were able to check off your mental list. Cake? Made. Nails? Done. Hair? Done. The food was on its way and you asked your bodyguard to look out for it while you took a shower, being careful to ensure only your body was hit with water as you wrapped your neat blowout. You put on a dress along with layers of alluring oils and lotions before you heard the door open and close downstairs. You glanced in the mirror quickly before heading downstairs, a bright smile on your face as you saw a brief glimpse of Maria in the dining room. But then as you hurried closer, you noticed a group of women and furrowed your brows, your hand anxiously meeting your arm to make yourself seem smaller.

“Babe?” Your girlfriend turned at the sound, looking you up and down with her jaw going slack. “Uhm…I thought it was our anniversary dinner tonight?” Your voice was low and quiet, trying not to let your vision blur from the tears that threatened to concur. Maybe it was small, maybe it wouldn’t matter to anyone else, but you tired yourself for hours to make this day perfect for not just the image of your relationship but to please her.

“Well, of course it is. What, did you think I forgot?” She grabbed the bouquet of flowers she placed on the table and came to your side, making you hide your smile shyly as her hand found place on your buttock. She kissed your cheek a few times before lowering her gaze so you’d meet hers.

“I wanted to get you a special gift, sweetheart, something better than any flowers or wine I’ve bought.” Her friends consisted of women you had already met: Natasha, Wanda, Carol, and Kate. The dark-haired girl seemed nervous like you, not exactly knowing how to position herself to present as confident like the women beside her.

“Y/N, you know my friends, right? From work? Well, I told them recently about our anniversary, and how excited we were. I showed them a photo of you, the one on the beach where you wore that sexy little bikini. Oh, yeah, I can tell you remember,” You blushed at the memory, fiddling with your fingers and shrugging. You slowly looked up and saw one of them, Natasha, smirking as she leaned on the table, staring at you with a deep intensity.

“I- I remember them…and the photo too.”

“Well, they all told me you looked absolutely adorable, and I couldn’t have agreed more. They said they wanted to see you, isn’t that right?” She looked up at the members, all of them in a seeming alliance. Wanda took the first step forward, giving an almost maternal, loving grin as she placed her hand on your arm and began stroking softly.

“We just couldn’t resist the offer, sweetie…but we do really hate to intrude on such an intimate night.” Your brows slowly furrowed as you turned to Maria for answers, whispering quietly.

“What offer is she referring to?”

You swore it happened in a blink of an eye. One moment you were showing off the cake you made proudly, your girlfriend admiring your hair and nails and guiding you along the table to show everyone else. The dress you wore clinging tightly to your body and having Maria’s hand on your thigh rubbing softly the entire time as she hummed at the flavor of the dessert you made, skipping over dinner with the promise she’d get to it later. She’d watch you blush as the guests spoke fondly of you, each of the older women sharing compliments on your beauty or your talents, your generosity or your sweet and innocent nature.

But now you were sitting on Maria’s lap, your legs spread out wide despite your shame. You sniffled, trying to hide your red face from the guests but all of them gushed over it, a few of them moaning at the sight. Then their eyes would trail down to your leaking cunt with their coworker's toy shoving deep within your hole before exiting once more. You moan loudly at the large contraption, only to try and quiet yourself by biting your lip. Wanda’s hand was already on Natasha’s clit while the redhead fingered the witch generously with two slender fingers. Carol had her hand amongst her pants with her button undone, her sensitive bud being furiously rubbed as she watched your body shake and compulse. Kate glanced between you and her coworkers awkwardly, slowly bringing a few fingers to her mouth before allowing them past her shorts. She gave you a guilty look, not wanting to meet your eyes. Your puffy cunt’s sore, now reddened features matched her blushing face.

“You wanna tell the girls how good Mommy makes you feel? Hm?” You nodded, but it wasn’t enough for her. Her hand that had been stroking your thigh came to slap your cheek, making you whimper.

“M-Mommy makes me feel- feel so good!” You drunkenly mumbled out, your brain in a hazy fog created not by alcohol but by their intoxicating gazes.

“Good girl. Mommy doesn’t like hurting you, but you need to listen.” The dildo was pounding into your grasping walls, your legs struggling to stay open if it wasn’t for her hand pulling them apart constantly with reassurance and reminder.

“Looks like Wanda’s close already, baby, you see what you do to us?” Your eyes were forced to the older woman, noticing a similar state of arousal, only she was allowed to reach it. She had a small grin forming on her lips as she came down, riding Natasha’s fingers delicately.

“Does that turn you on, hm? Watching my coworkers cum just from watching you? Your pussy is practically drooling at the thought, sweetheart.” She chuckled lowly, and you embarrassingly tried to hide but there was nowhere to go. You were surrounded by multiple women who were waiting to see you orgasm, who were impeding on it. And so you let go with Maria’s permission, your juices squirting onto the floor in front of you and her covered thighs as she kissed along your neck. You didn’t see Kate being demanded to grab the cake from the kitchen table with your eyes squeezed shut, and you didn’t hear it in your orgasmic state. All you know is that in moments you suddenly transferred into Kate’s shaky arms and when you looked down, Maria was kneeling between you. You whimpered, not ready for the overstimulation already tempting to envelop your senses, but the archer made sure her job was done currently and held your legs apart, whispering an apology in your ear and asking if you were comfortable. You slowly nodded, but you were interrupted by a jerk of your hips when you felt one of Maria’s slender fingers against your clit along with a cold, soft texture.

Your cake. She smirked up at you with frosting on her fingers, rubbing it around your sensitive bud softly as the other three women watched in amusement.

“Watch closely, Kate, this will be the only lesson you get on how to properly eat someone out.” You heard a voice that wasn’t Maria’s, but you couldn’t tell whose it was as your focus was solely on the pulsing of your cunt. You felt the girl's quick nod and her chin lingering over your shoulder, glancing at you nervously.

“Sorry if I’m in the way, I just- I want to see…” Kate didn’t exactly know how to say, ‘I’m trying to watch your girlfriend eat you out’, so she awkwardly stumbled over her words before returning her gaze to Maria’s tongue that peaked out, slowly encircling your clit. Your hands quickly gripped her hair, and suddenly you felt the couch cushion dip beside you as Carol softly stroked your hair, her hand on your thigh to console you.

“Kate, you’re meant to ease her a bit.”

“B-but I’m holding her legs open…how am I meant to?” She looked between Carol and the stimulation you were receiving, not wanting to miss any bit of it. Natasha scoffed out a chuckle and came to your other side, taking the place of the younger woman’s hand as the archer struggled to find a new place for it. Wanda sat behind everyone, watching the scene unfold in front of her as red swirls encircled her fingers, and suddenly, Kate’s hand was being lifted to your supple breasts as you whimpered. Maria was furiously attacking your swollen pussy, acting as though this was her first and last meal on earth, but it was most certainly the tastiest.

“You see what I’m doing here?” Maria had pulled back to say, only to return for a quick moment and pull back again. “You have to stimulate the clit first. Only when she is dripping is she ready.” Your girlfriend hummed as she teased your previously stretched hole with her tongue, making you whine loudly as she smirked up at you.

“W-what if she’s not, you know, dripping?” Natasha leaned her head down a bit, whispering yet it was loud enough for everyone to hear.

“Then she’s just not that into you, detka.” Kate pouted softly as the redhead chuckled, running her fingers through your soft hair. Wanda watched in slight dissatisfaction and anger as the girl struggled to figure out what to do with your breasts, bringing you no activation. Once again, her magic swirled around her fingers as Kate’s began tweaking your nipples, your whimpers loud across the living room as everyone knew you were close. Your abs were tightening, your core was spasming, your eyes were rolled to the back of your head as your jaw was slackened.

“Mommy, Mommy, Mommy!” You were unable to form anything else, but Maria nodded against you, letting you know it was okay. Your fingers tightened on her scalp as she brought you to your peak once more, your juices savoring in her mouth as you nearly fell over. Kate was quick to hold you still, whispering questions in your ear.

“Are you okay? Do you need me to get anything? Water?”

“She can barely understand a word you’re saying right now, Katie.” She glared at Maria for the nickname but huffed quietly as she kept her head on your chin.

“I still don’t know if I’ll be able to do it right…what am I going to do?” The three glanced at each other as if they were secretly formulating a plan, and they were. Soon after Kate was the one kneeling between your knees nervously, gulping down her anxiety while she slowly brought her face closer.

“I hope this lives up to your anniversary night expectations, Y/N…”

#maria hill #Maria hill smut #maria hill x reader #wanda maximoff #wanda maximoff smut #wanda maximoff x reader #wanda maximoff x you #wanda maximoff x gender neutral reader #natasha romanoff smut #natasha romanoff x female #natasha romanoff x reader #natasha romanoff x you #kate bishop smut #kate bishop x reader #kate bishop #carol danvers #carol danvers smut #Carol Danvers x reader #Maria hill fluff

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buzz-in-your-veins · 1 year ago

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Oops, did i do that?

Accidentally sending a spicy pic to your crush.

The reader is more fem dressed and has a vagina in this- if you want a part b where they don’t have outfits just let me know!

CW: Gender Neutral reader with a vagina and fem-like fashion, reader wears bras, no mention of having boobs.

Vox

Vox hadn’t known you for very long, you were one of the newer demons working for him. You’d applied for the job a few months ago.

In that time he’d seen you about four times, but he was honestly thinking of promoting you, you were amazing at your job, good with both the data and the customers, the only thing it seemed you couldn’t do, was look at your contacts.

You weren’t working tomorrow, so you’d gone out with your friends, you’d purposefully gone to one of the only clubs in the pride ring that wasn’t owned by a member of the V’s, in an effort not to run into your new boss.

You’d gone all out tonight, spurred on by your friends, see, you had a minor crush on the TV demon, not that you’d ever entertain it. However, your friends had picked your outfit tonight, and you ended up in a gorgeous (if a bit slutty) royal blue dress, sleeveless and short, with a glittery tulle overlay, and some beautiful electric red heels.

You were messing on with your friends in the bathroom, taking photos and just genuinely having fun, already beyond tipsy now. You were sending a photo of you and another friend in the mirror to your group chat, your friend had taken the time you were fixing your hair to add Vox onto the ‘send to’ people, you never noticed.

You also didn’t notice your phone go off when Vox opened it.

If only that was the worst part.

You finished the night absolutely trashed, your friends working together to walk one another home, most living near one another. You, of course, were the odd on out, and the odd number.

You assured your friends it was fine, you lived in VVV tower for Lucifers sake, you’d be fine! Your friends wouldn’t hear it.

One of your friends, less drunk, had messaged one of Velvettes models, whom she used to work with and asked for them to walk you back.

You got back safe and sound, still not having realised you’d sent Vox the bathroom photo, or seeing the demon’s expression as Velvettes model walked you in.

You weren’t quite tired enough to sleep when you were dropped back in your room, so you messed on on your phone for a bit, before undressing. You hadn’t got to taking your make up off or undoing your hair, you’d gotten your dress off, and just.. stopped.

You were in an ethereal lingerie set, clearly made with Vox in mind.

Pretty blue panties hugged your hips, red electric bolts providing straps, the lace comfortable against your pussy, your chest coved with a light blue bralette, lace spilling against your skin, and the most beautiful glitch effect chain snug around your belly.

You matched this with a black thin choker with a hanging blue electric bolt, and posed against your bed, taking a few photos, changing poses and taking more.

Your favourite was one where you were laid flat, the photo taken from above, you could see your entire body, including the heels you still hadn’t taken off, and you were stairing straight at the camera with your painted lips parted.

Satisfied you went to save your photo.

Never noticing you’d sent the same photo to your boss.

Afterall, you hadn’t know to take him off your list.

You were cuddled up asleep, still in the underwear, when Vox opened your photo.

You never noticed the power surge then go out, nor did you notice Vox’s name pop up on your phone.

Angel Dust

Angel had seen you around the hotel more than usual, Charlie said you’d recently quit your job to work for someone else, and it gave you more free time and flexibility.

Angel was happy for you, your boss had been a real price of work.

Still riding the high off getting a better job, you’d invited your friends out clubbing, having received a handsome final salary.

You had chosen to go to Hyper-Tech, one of Vox’s clubs, and one of the best. They had some off the greatest drinks, and, unbeknownst to you, that night they also had Angel Dust dancing.

You friends teased you relentlessly about your crush on the porn star already, and they played this off as purposeful on your part, even though you’d had no idea.

You had started the night feeling confident and pretty in your oulfit, but seeing the spider you felt a flash of self consciousness, after all, your outfit was styled on the spiders own colour theme, an off the shoulder soft pink velvet crop-top, above-knee white loose pleated skirt, and pastel pink heels with a hot pink belt and nail polish.

You friends quickly took care of that, telling you how wonderful you looked, that anyone would be lucky to see you.

And getting you drunk definitely helped, the endless stream of cocktails bought with your money, and eventually dipping into your friends supplies brought on a happy buzz.

They also greatly diminished your ability to think critically.

You never saw how Angel Dust watched you the entire time you were in the club, as you progressively got drunker, to the point Angel was shocked you could still stand, never mind walk.

Your friends however, saw how the renowned demon was watching you with concern and admiration.

They quickly concocted a plan without your input.

Angels set finished around 2 in the morning, he waited in his dressing room for you to leave.

You had planed to walk home with your friends before splitting off to the hotel, but one of your friends changed the plan, stating there was no need for you to walk them home, after all, didn’t you like live in the complete opposite direction? Another friend had ‘needed the bathroom’ and had walked right by Angels door, talking about how you were leaving with the third friend.

As you were arguing about the principle of walking your friends home, Angel Dust came out of club, and said he didn’t mind walking you home, you lived together anyway.

Your friends quickly agreed and left, not allowing you to argue.

The whole walk back you were showered with compliments about your outfit, your dancing, your hair, your ability to drink, everything.

Angel walked you all the way to your room before leaving you.

You started to undress, but decided you wanted a photo for this occasion.

In your underwear, a pretty pale pink push-up bra, and a silky white thong, still in the hot pink heels, you took a photo in the mirror, sat on your knees staring in the mirror.

For some reason, you decided to send that to yourself instead of just saving to camera roll.

Only, you never send it to yourself. After the walk home, Angel had messaged you to sleep well, meaning he was your top contact.

Never thinking to check, you simply threw on a pale pink baby doll, took your heels and make up off, and went to bed.

Alastor

Alastor showing up to help at the hotel had never been in your plan.

The radio demon was always an unobtainable shadow, someone you could safely crush on from your own mind, because he would never be in your reach.

Except..

Now he was.

Now not to be foolish, you had figured from his interactions and reactions that Alastor was most likely somewhere on the Ace or Aro spectrum, and you would never push anything onto him.

But you could never even get close enough to talk to him, never mind ask about the possibility of him being on the spectrum.

So you hid. Everytime Alastor was around, you weren’t.

Alastor was cooking? You weren’t hungry. Al was helping with the daily running? You had work. Alastor was in the library? You didn’t want to read anyways.

Alastor always noticed your absence.

Instead you poured over everything and anything about the radio demon.

When he appeared, what he did, where he could have been in the seven years, his rise to power, his ability’s, his domain, everything.

Your crush on the radio demon was a foolish one, but that didn’t stop you from having it.

From dreaming of picnics and ice cream dates, of long walks down the streets of hell, to him taking you apart with his words alone, voice wrapping around you.

And when he stopped those muggers?

You went weak.

So, yea, your crush was unobtainable, in the highest scene.

You could still dress up though.

And you did, frequently.

In pantsuits of dark crimson, to the bloody scarlet ball gown, for the party.

Alastors eyes never left you that night.

Mostly, it was under your clothes.

Pretty crimson baby dolls. Black lacy thongs. Scarlett bralettes. Everything. Your camera roll was full of photos of yourself in the underwear, posing this way and that, full of imagination and hopes you would never act on.

Oh how you’d positively die if anyone saw.

That didn’t stop you.

Right now you were dressed in a darling crimson corset, embroidered with darker lace, tied tight, paired with dark scarlet panties, pussy damp against the lace as you lost yourself slightly in a fantasy, black heels and a black necklace, you had posed side on to the camera, staring straight ahead, knees folded underneath you and head tilted slightly up, arms held behind your back.

You heard your shutter go off and stood, getting dressed in a black lace camisole, taking of the corset and heels before heading to bed.

Picking your phone up on the way, you saved the photo to your folder.

Surely, you should have expected naming your folder ‘Alastor<3’ to backfire, but..

Maybe this was a Freudian slip?

It’s not like you even noticed you’d sent it, and you were asleep by the time your phone when off.

Lucifer

You’d seen the King of Hell maybe twice, once in passing, and once when he came to the hotel.

It was more than enough for you to crush on the child-like King, falling in love with his attitude and personality, drawn further in by his looks and kindness.

By the time the charity ball came around, you were completely lost for him.

Lucifer showed up in a white suit, not too different from his normal attire, only more fancy, more Kingly, so to speak.

You had taken Angels advice and dressed to impress.

Angel Dust was the only one who knew about the feelings you had for the fallen angel, and he took every opportunity to tease you for it, but he was also your biggest supporter.

You and Angel had knows each other almost as long as you’d been in hell, so his help was soothing for you, and you smiled as the spider laced up the golden gown you’d picked.

It was a golden off-the-shoulder ball gown, with a soft cover of glittery tulle over the top, the skirt flaring out, reaching the floor, covered in rose embroidered embellishments, and paired with bloody red heels, and a glittering clutch.

Charlie had told you all to go all out, and you and Angel did not disappoint.

The two of you descended together, and you caught site of the King before quickly moving your eyes, your blush almost matching your clutch.

Charlie swanned around you, telling you how amazing you looked, and look at your hair!

Angel got you a flute of champagne before leaving you to find Husk.

Traitors.

You walked around the party, dancing with people here and there, doing your best to avoid looking at the King.

You never saw that his eyes never left your form, or how he glared at everyone who touched you.

The king had tried more than once to get close to you, if not to dance with you, to at least tell you how amazing you looked, but you always seemed to move at just the right time.

Charlie had been snapping photos of you the whole night, sending them to her dad, even she saw the two of you pining for one another.

Your flute was never empty, and unfortunately for you, Angel could always recognise when you were about to bolt, and he and Husk would step in to talk to you and prevent it.

Did you mention traitors?

By the time you were finally able to leave, you were definitely tipsy, clutching Angels arm as the two of you ascended the stairs, congratulating yourself on managing to avoid the King.

Angel saw the way Lucifer was watching you, but you didn’t.

By the time you were in your room and Angel had left after unlacimg your dress, ‘we went all blessed with long arms, A——y!’, you wanted a special photo.

So you got ready.

You kept your heels on and striped to your underwear, a strapless golden bra with a red bow in the center, trimmed in lace, and panties to match, also trimmed in lace. You kept the sparkly fishnets on too, and your makeup on, before finiding a pose you liked.

Finally settling on a pose wherein you were laid on your back, your knees up and tilted slightly to the side, one hand on your breast, the other just above your head, and your face tilted towards your phone, positioned slightly higher than you, and just above your head.

You smiled at the photo, and went to save it.

You never looked.

Lucifer had got your number of Charlie to tell you how nice you’d looked. Your response?

A photo.

You were asleep by the time Lucifers own response came in.

Husk

Husk hadn’t taken much notice of you at first, only that you seemed to come and go with Angel, Husk later learned you were Angels shadow so to speak, Valentino payed you prettily just to follow and protect the star.

Husk noticed you more as you came out more without Angel, not being needed as often when you were in the hotel.

You and the barcat had had some quite good conversations, and some even better discussions.

You knew your way around cards that was for sure, and the cat loved talking with you about card tricks.

Sure no one could match him in card tricks, but hearing you talk about them? Something just felt different.

Husk worried about you and Angel a lot, especially when you both came back late, Angel looking trashed, and you looking slightly high on those nights. It took Husk months to realise Valentino was drugging you both, more so Angel. On those nights, Husk would stay up late to make sure you and Angel ate and drank before going to bed.

Husk never brought it up, and Angel didn’t remember, so you never spoke about it. If the cat didn’t want to bring it up why should you?

Husk did notice his favourite snack appearing on the bar in the mornings however.

Your crush on the cat had started before you even began talking to him, but those conversations, the way he treated you, how he never made you seem unimportant, the way he looked after you and Angel after Val had been upset?

You were gone.

And the cat was your new home.

Not that you’d ever tell him of course, you would never risk ruining such a wonderful friendship like that.

Of course, there were also nights like these. When Val needed Angel for publicity, those were the best. You both got to dress up and basically just party, no forced drugs or alcohol, just fun.

You’d dressed in an orange one-shoulder skin-tight slip dress, with a split up-to your thigh, paired with glittery purple heels, a clutch and jewellery, with black card themed earrings.

Husk had seen you just before you got into Vox’s limo and dropped his bottle of cheap alcohol, sending Niffty into a cleaning/laughing fit.

You and Angel didn’t get back until 1 in the morning, both of you slightly buzzed, but pretty much sober, not having been forced to fed any drugs and having eaten at the gala.

Husk had tried to stay up.

You feel deeper when you realised the barcat was asleep at his post because he was waiting for you. Sending Angel to bed, you walked over to the barcat and gently shook him awake, telling him he could go to bed.

From here Husk noticed the earrings, and flushed, jolting backwards and falling.

You giggled a little before apologising for startling him, which he waved off.

He headed to bed and you got back to your room. Taking your dress off you caught sight of your self in the mirror.

Pretty orange panties with a tiny club embroidered in at the side, deep orange plunge bra with a spade on the left cup, purple bracelet, necklace, and shoes, pretty orange make-up, and a heart and diamond earring set.

You needed a photo.

Fussing around a bit you finally settled on a pose with you laying slightly over the end of the bed, head and chest tilted down, knees pulled up to the side, camera angled too capture everything, arms by your head, and full body on display.

You changed into some sleep clothes after the photos, and in your sleepy state sent them to Husk, instead of simply saving them.

You didn’t wake up until well after Husk responded.

Lute.

Lute had noticed you as soon as you’d joined Adam’s ranks.

Of course she had.

You were the prettiest exterminator Lute had had the pleasure of seeing.

She pestered Adam until he agreed Lute could have her own assistant.

That of course, was you.

Lute loved having you work with her.

Yes all your conversations were about work, and you treat her like your boss, not a colleague, but it wa a better than when you weren’t talking at all.

You were still reeling from the change in position so fast, and now having to deal with the angel you were crushing on at all hours of the day?

Your poor heart couldn’t deal.

You were a blushing mess under your mask every time Lute spoke to you, praising yourself every time you got through an answer without stumbling or stuttering on the words.

Your friends were relentless with the teasing, going as far as to create hand signals to tease you even on the training fields.

Regardless you excelled.

You had to be the best.

And so you were.

Lute often asks what fuels you, and you always stumbled through a bullshit answer, never remembering what you’d said before.

You never gave her the same answer.

You couldn’t exactly tell your now boss the reason you did so well was so she would notice you, could you?

Shadowing Lute meant shadowing Adam. He usually left you alone for the most part though.

It meant going to fancy angel party’s. With out your mask.

You forced your friends to help you get ready.

Gorgeous black knee length dress, clinched at the waist, with silvery heels, a silver necklace, a silver clutch, and purple earrings, your hair done all nice and make up to compliment the outfit.

Your friends told you you looked stunning, and when Lute saw you, she had to agree.

You spent the entire party following Lute around, you didn’t know any of the people here and you were anxious.

Lute kept your champagne topped up, eventually switching you to something a little harder when it became clear you wouldn’t settle on the sparkling liquid alone, not used to the alcohol you got drunk fast.

Adam allowed Lute to leave early, so she could take you home.

Lute got you in safely and even placed an aspirin and water on your bedside table, before leaving you, messaging your phone to let you know what’s happened.

Meanwhile, you’d striped down to a gray lacy bralette, with matching high waisted panties, pretty silver heels, make-up still on and earrings still in.

You wanted a photo.

You set your phone up, and posed, on you knees on your bed, heels just visible, leaned back slightly, one hand behind your bed in a stretch and one on the bed, eyes looking just beyond the camaraderie.

Happy with the results, you went to save the picture, instead, sending it to Lute, who opened it as soon as she got home.

Bye the time Lute replied, you were curled up ontop of your covers, heels still on, sleeping deeply.

Feedback is always appreciated <3

If you want more people added feel free to ask and I’ll do a part two!

Comments are my high.

They make me write faster.

~Vyrus

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dakusan · 1 month ago

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omggg friend what a MEAL you gave me and all of us 🧎🏼‍♀️🧎🏼‍♀️ thank you so much

i left my screams in the tags of a reblog but imma say it again it was SO HOTTTT

and i came with more vamp chan thoughts. firstly, i wonder what does he do? he clearly needs money for all that luxury and providing for his chosen so does he run a business? i need to know more!!

secondly, the whole feeding and orgasms correlation. i wanna talk about the fact that reader just cannot cum until he’s biting her, at some point. some pavlov dog sorta training. and whenever she wants to touch herself she just won’t reach that release without the feeling of chan sucking her blood and ruining her skin. imagine the frustration!! the edge and pain of being sooo worked up and still *no release*. grrrrr

baby. you’re feeding me vampire crumbs and i’m devouring them like i haven’t eaten since 1437. i’ve been building vampire lore since i was THIRTEEN, yes, you heard that right. so the fact that you’re tossing these thoughts at me like “what if Chan ran a vampire empire and made you cum via fang addiction?” is quite literally making me foam at the mouth.

now. let me answer your brilliant little brainrot inquiries like the horny lore goblin you deserve:

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

"what does he do? he clearly needs money for all that luxury and providing for his chosen so does he run a business?"

oh, sweetheart. he doesn’t just run a business. he runs an empire.

Bang Chan is the founder and majority silent partner of NOCTURNE (yes i made up. so what?), an ultra-exclusive luxury conglomerate that owns high-end hotels, scent brands, antique dealerships, rare blood wine cellars (don’t ask), and an underground vampire club that humans think is just for kink, but actually… isn’t.

He never appears in public. He’s the name whispered behind velvet curtains. The phantom signature on the deed to every black marble building with no windows and too much perfume.

He has humans on salary whose entire job is laundering money from centuries of accumulated wealth—royal gifts, war spoils, artifact trades. He also owns three passports, five shell companies, and one immaculate cover identity as a philanthropic tech investor.

He doesn’t run a business. He is the reason old money stays old.

And yes—he has a private vault under a mountain in Switzerland. His chosen will never want for anything except his bite.

In simpler words: HE’S NOT RICH. HE’S “generationally immortal asset portfolio with blood diamonds under Vatican vaults” LOADED.

You want Dior? He buys Dior. You sigh near a painting? He tracks down the artist’s great-grandchild and funds their career. You say “I miss Venice”? Suddenly you’re on a jet, and he’s feeding from your thigh in a gondola.

And don’t get me started on the clothes. Custom lingerie with charm runes. Silk robes that feel like they were spun by devils.

The man has a wine cellar full of vintage blood types by bloodline. There’s a Merlot ‘82 next to an AB+ from a pianist in Vienna he once seduced. He swears you taste better.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

“the whole feeding and orgasms correlation… reader just cannot cum until he’s biting her, at some point.”

Oh, baby. That’s canon.

It started as coincidence. The first few times, he bit you right as you came—deep, sharp, electric. You didn’t realize your brain was already linking the two.

Your body stopped responding to anything else. Fingers? Useless. Toys? No effect. Edging for hours? Nothing. You can’t come without his fangs in your skin now. Not just because it feels good—because it’s ritual.

He knows too. Of course he does. He orchestrated it.

He’ll tease you for it every time.

“What’s wrong, angel? Been playing with that pretty pussy for twenty minutes and still not shaking?” “You need me to bite you, don’t you?” “Of course you do. You’re conditioned now. Ruined. Daddy’s blood-drunk little slut.”

And worst of all? He’ll withhold it. He’ll edge you to madness—fingers inside, cock hitting deep, mouth at your throat—and just when you think it’s coming—

“No bite tonight. You didn’t earn it.”

And you’ll sob for it. Because your body physically can’t finish without it. You’ll beg for those fangs like they’re oxygen.

And when he finally gives in—when he sinks his teeth into your neck like a promise—You’ll come so hard you black out.

· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────༺♱༻────── · ·· · ──────

Thank you for feeding my centuries-old vampire kink with your unhinged brilliance 🩸💋🖤

#ask dakusan #bang chan x reader #vampire!bang chan #bang chan smut

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bottledpeaches · 8 months ago

Text

homecoming for a shooting star

FIRST | PREVIOUS

SYNOPSIS: home is a warm place now with a cat and someone waiting for you. welcome back, how was your day? tell me about it as we watch the stars go past.

CHARACTERS: alhaitham, kaveh, cyno, tighnari, lisa

TAGS: marriage, happy ending, fluff, 5.5k+ wc

TAGLIST: @tragedy-of-commons, @harque, @akutasoda, @khoncore, @moineauz

NOTES: and it's a wrap! this is the final installment in this trilogy. thank u guys for sticking with me over the course of a year from when I first started until now! I read through every single one of your comments and tags and they all stuck with me. I never thought my work could have such a resounding impact on so many people and it damn near brought me to tears when I saw ppl pouring out their life stories to me... sobs... once again, thank u all for your continued support and kind words! <3

Special thanks to pookies @mikashisus and @tragedy-of-commons for proofreading this for me!

“(Name), what are your thoughts on marriage?”

The question comes out of nowhere one day. No dropped hints, no special occasion, nothing. You practically spit out your morning coffee out of shock. He merely stares at you expectantly over the rim of his mug.

You wipe away the coffee from the corners of your mouth as you hurriedly gather your thoughts. Marriage… you can’t exactly say you’d never considered getting married to him. It’d be nice. A peaceful life with the one you loved. Simple, perhaps repetitive, but after all you’ve gone through the past several years, you don’t need anything unexpected upsetting your life again.

It’d also get your parents off your back, who sporadically attempted to reach out to you, but it’s not like you cared much about their opinions anymore.

“... Is this your way of proposing to me?”

He shrugs and sips his coffee again.

“Depends on how receptive you are to it.”

His gaze feels even more piercing than usual and you bashfully avoid it as you take great interest in Thamina napping on a sunny spot atop the kitchen counter.

“... I wouldn’t mind it,” you eventually say. “I’d quite enjoy it, actually. A quiet, peaceful life with you, sipping coffee and spending time with our cat.”

Alhaitham lightly chuckles.

“I’m glad to know we feel the same.”

It’s then followed up with an affectionate sigh as he turns to look out the window. Thamina wakes up from her nap and leaps into his lap, purring contentedly.

“Doing taxes with you doesn’t sound bad at all.”

You’d never realized just how stifling the confines of your parents’ house was until you moved in with Alhaitham.

The walls of your childhood bedroom were littered with academic awards and accomplishments, but no personal touches. Nothing that provided an insight into who you were as a person. No decorations. No plants lining the walls of your room, no sentimental photos with friends or even family. Just a boring room with the bare minimum and a desk stacked with schoolwork.

(To be fair, you didn’t really have a personality outside of your academic achievements back then… but that’s all water under the bridge now.)

But when you first stepped foot into the rented house and took a look around, it was as if a switch had been flipped inside your brain. Maybe you just realized you were an adult now and had free will.

And for you, that means the walls and surfaces of your shared home are covered in photos. Most of them are your doing. Your job as a reporter for Sumeru’s biggest newspaper has you traveling a lot and you never leave a nation without a photo or two. Mondstad’s vast grasslands, Liyue’s rocky cliffs, Inazuma’s stormy skies, and Fontaine’s high-tech city and quaint countrysides decorate the walls and flat surfaces of your house. Silly photos of you and Alhaitham on dates and vacations can be found as well, much to his mild embarrassment since many of them are unflattering.

Sometimes, he regrets getting you that Kamera as a graduation present.

And this barely scratches the surface. Your more personal photos are stashed in the many photo books lining the bookshelves, including the one of your first kiss in Fontaine.

This house is almost a home now. It certainly has the feel of one.

The air smells of rich spices as you prepare dinner for tonight. You got off work early today and Alhaitham comes home to help not long after. After greeting you with a hug and cheek kiss and Thamina with some chin scratches, he leaves to get cleaned up and returns to help.

The both of you settle into a comfortable, familiar routine. He stands at the sink handling the prep and cleanup while you’re at the stove taking care of the actual cooking. Thamina lounges comfortably atop a chair while grooming herself before falling asleep. The air is warm and silent, save for the sound of ingredients being chopped and Thamina’s rumbling purrs in her sleep.

It’s clear that you’ve settled comfortably into this place now. But you’d be lying if you said you didn’t have any grievances.

You’re at the stove and stirring the simmering pot of curry now. Alhaitham usually dislikes soups or anything with a liquid consistency, but your curry is thick enough for him to give it a pass.

Oh, and it’s delicious too. Can’t forget the most important reason.

You’re digging through the spice cabinet now. The cabinets in the house are small and the dim lighting doesn’t help as you search for a particular bottle in the overflowing cabinet.

Not this, not that…

Eventually your fingers close around a bottle that feels about right and you grab it, shaking some of the contents into the pot. You freeze when you see and smell something that is definitely not what you were looking for.

“Fuck,” you grumble under your breath as you shove the spice jar back and keep digging for the correct one. Alhaitham keeps an eye on the stove so the pot doesn’t boil over in the meantime.

“I wish we had better lighting in the kitchen. It’s too dim in here,” you grumble when you finally find the correct jar and frustratedly shake its contents into the pot.

Alhaitham hums in response.

“Maybe larger cabinets too.”

He hums again.

He starts setting the table now. The drawer where the utensils are stored is in the corner next to the stove, making it a tight squeeze for the both of you. His arm bumps against you as he reaches for the cups stored in the overhead cabinet, making you drop the wooden spoon into the pot. The cup slips out of his grasp and almost falls on your head.

“... Just make the whole kitchen bigger at this point,” you sigh as you begin plating the food.

“Agreed.”

The kitchen window is cracked open as you sit down for dinner together. It’s still sunny outside and you can hear the sounds of dogs barking, birds chirping, and the sounds of an argument between some of your neighbors somewhere nearby. The curry tastes a little funny from the spice mishap earlier, but it’s nothing that can’t be overlooked.

“Did anything interesting happen at work today?” he asks, as per usual. You shrug,

“Well, I’m being sent out to Liyue in a few days. A traditional festival is being celebrated and they want me to go in and photograph the entire thing.”

He hums. “Have fun and be safe. Festivals can get-”

You brush him off with a wave of your hand.

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Spare me the lecture. I’ll bring you back some treats as I always do too. How does some sticky rice dumplings sound? The ones with the filling you like as well.”

That seems to satisfy him because he doesn’t say anything else for the remainder of dinner until your usual bathtime after the dishes are cleaned.

The bathroom upstairs is average-sized, but the bathtub was clearly not designed to accommodate two people at once- especially someone of Alhaitham’s size. His knees awkwardly bump against the side of the tub as you sit between his legs and your own knees are hugged uncomfortably to your chest. You try to distract yourself by playing with a rubber duck bobbing along the water’s surface.

“... A larger bathroom would be nice,” he says, eventually speaking up. You quietly laugh.

“You think so too?”

He hums in acknowledgement and readjusts his grip around your waist.

After the bath, he goes back to the living room to continue reading while you stay in your shared bedroom to begin packing. Clothes, Kamera, backup film reels, notepad, spare pens, Mora…

He soon hears the sound of running water from the bathroom and he knows you’ve finished packing and you’re getting ready for bed now. When he peeks into your shared bedroom, he sees you already curled up under the covers on your side of the bed and the lights off. Thamina rests comfortably above your head, perched atop the fluffy pillows and making biscuits.

You’re on the verge of falling asleep when you feel something warm brush against your forehead and you smile, knowing exactly who it is.

“You’re still awake.”

He says it like it’s a statement rather than a question. The familiar scent of sandalwood and eucalyptus grows stronger as he crouches down beside you and you finally open your eyes. You sleepily smile up at him and he ruffles your hair.

“In my defense, I was about to fall asleep. You were the one that woke me up,” you say, words slightly slurred from sleep and interrupted midway by a yawn.

“Sorry. I thought you had fallen asleep already.”

You rub your eyes and quickly glance at him.

“You’re still fully dressed even though it’s past your bedtime,” you observe.

“I have something quick I need to take care of. I’ll be back soon.”

You hum and close your eyes again, sinking back into the pillow.

“Be back soon then. Don’t wanna sleep without you tonight. Not when I’ll have to for a week or so in just a few days…”

He scoffs and rolls his eyes affectionately as he closes the bedroom door behind him on his way out.

“Clingy,” he murmurs under his breath with no real bite to his voice. He grabs his keys and a nondescript notebook off the coffee table before he leaves.

He stops in front of another house and knocks. He can hear angry muttering from inside and internally chuckles, knowing that he must’ve woken him up.

A few minutes later, the door is slammed open, revealing a familiar face. Alhaitham looks Kaveh up and down, still in his sleepwear. “Couldn’t even put on something presentable before greeting guests?” he taunts. The blond glares at him.

“Shut it, Alhaitham. It’s 11 pm.”

He pauses as his mind finally starts working again.

“Wait, why are you even here? You’re usually asleep by-”

“Are commissions still open?”

Kaveh goes slack-jawed at the sudden question. Alhaitham can practically hear the gears in his mind turning as he works out an answer with the sleep clouding his mind.

“I… uh, yeah they are. But why are you so interested all of a sudden?”

“Good. I’ll keep this brief then. I’d like to commission you to design a house.”

Stunned, Kaveh watches as Alhaitham tears off a slip of paper from his notebook and hands it to him.

“These are all the features we’d like to have.”

“Larger kitchen… more spacious kitchen cabinets… bigger bathtub… huh, these don’t seem like things you’d be particularly picky about,” he mutters as he squints at the writing. Kaveh blinks, and a few seconds later the realization seems to hit him.

“Wait, did (Name) request all of this? Does that mean-”

“It’s getting late now,” interrupts Alhaitham. “We can work out the details and payment later. When are you free?”

By now, Kaveh is fully awake. He shakes his head and glares at him.

“You are so lucky I consider you a friend! I wouldn’t be doing this otherwise,” he hisses under his breath. He shakes his head and sighs.

“Fine. I’ll accept this commission. I’m free tomorrow starting at noon.”

“I’ll meet you after work then.”

“Deal.”

“Care to go on a walk after dinner?”

You look up at Alhaitham sitting across the table from you. He tilts his head to the side when you meet his gaze, an expectant look in his eyes.

You blow on your food to cool it down.

“Sure. Weather’s nice outside. Might as well.”

Half an hour later, you’re strolling through the city. You stop by the Padisarah Pudding vendor you’d always frequent in your Akademiya days. The vendor still recognizes you, even all these years later.

“This part of the city is really nice,” you say around a mouthful of pudding. You’ve ended up on the other side of the city now.

“It’s too far from work for my liking.”

You pout and scowl at his remark.

“Oh come on, what’s there not to like? There’s more to do around here, we’re not as isolated, and it’s warmer since all the houses face south.”

“My point still stands.”

“Haithie, an extra five minutes to your daily commute isn’t going to kill you!”

He huffs and rolls his eyes, but he files that bit of information away.

Later that night, he meets with Kaveh briefly at the tavern.

“So, on the opposite side of the city?” Alhaitham nods. Kaveh’s head dips, deep in thought.

“I know a place that you guys will for sure love,” he finally says. “Come with me to take a look at it tomorrow. If it’s to your liking, we can begin construction immediately.”

A few days later in the early morning, you’re getting ready to leave for your boat to Liyue. As per usual, he accompanies you down to the harbor and helps you adjust your bags.

“We’re grown adults now and you still insist on doing this for me. Not that I’m complaining, of course,” you say as you spin around. He tightens the straps on your bag.

“Force of habit.”

You look back at him with a fond smile and glint in your eyes.

“Can’t shake it from our Akademiya days?”

“Is it so wrong that I want to see you off each time?”

You laugh and shake your head, returning your gaze to the boat pulling into the harbor.

“No, not at all. I like it, actually. Having someone be there for when I leave and when I come back.”

He watches your boat leave until it’s out of sight before leaving. He has a meeting with Kaveh in a bit he’s going to be late for.

The chime above the door at Puspa Cafe jingles as he walks in. He orders a drink and goes upstairs, where he spots Kaveh instantly. He’s sitting by a window with blueprints spread out across the table.

Alhaitham takes a seat across from him.

“This future house is going to be very costly since so much of it has to be custom-made,” says Kaveh, not even sparing a glance at Alhaitham. “Makes me wonder how the hell you can afford this…”

“Wow, not even a greeting?”

The blond rolls his eyes.

“Fine. Hi. That promotion to Scribe must’ve been handy, right?”

Alhaitham takes a sip of his drink and nods in satisfaction.

“There we go. That’s more like it. And to answer your question, yes, but I’ve also been saving up for quite a while now.”

“Don’t have to rub your success in our faces,” mutters Kaveh as he reorganizes the blueprints so they’re splayed out on the table neatly. “Anyway, these are the designs I drafted based on what you guys wanted.”

He lets his gaze roam over the blueprints until it finally lands on one that catches his attention. Hm, the kitchen layout is better than the rest. The bathrooms are quite spacious too. There’s even an office on the first floor. Not that it matters to him since he leaves his work at the Akademiya the moment the clock hits five, but he knows you have a tendency to work around the clock.

(He can practically hear your voice already. “These headlines won’t write themselves, after all,” or something like that.)

“This one.”

“Had a feeling you’d choose that one,” Kaveh says without missing a beat as he gathers the other blueprints and puts them away.

The rest of the meeting goes smoothly. He signs the contracts and makes the down payment. Kaveh gets to work assembling the construction crew and materials needed.

“Since this is a custom house, it’ll take nine to twelve months to complete. Honestly, just anticipate at least a year before it’s finished.”

Alhaitham nods.

“And remember,” he says as he begins packing up. “Do not tell (Name) about this. Keep them in the dark as if your life depends on it.”

“From the tone of your voice, I’d say it does,” scoffs Kaveh. Alhaitham sends him a glare that shuts the blond up.

When you return a few weeks later from Liyue, you bring with you a backpack full of snacks and several reels worth of film, now photographs. And of course, a kiss to his cheek as you walk back home, talking his ear off the entire time about what you saw and did. He listens attentively, humming and nodding along as you speak, with an occasional remark or question thrown in there.

But despite your energy, you’re still tired after a long trip back home. As soon as you get home and your bags are unpacked, you immediately head to your room to take a nap. Alhaitham tucks you in, telling you to not worry about dinner tonight and to get some rest. Thamina immediately leaps onto the spot beside you and nestles into your side.

You sleepily mumble something about how good it feels to be back home. Alhaitham can’t help but sigh and shake his head affectionately.

This isn’t home yet. Just you wait.

“Wow, that’s a nice spot for a house.”

Alhaitham follows your gaze to a construction crew assembling the foundation for a large and spacious house. You’re on your daily post-dinner walk now, on the other side of the city that you like.

“They weren’t there the other day. Looks like they’re working fast.”

Kaveh is really pulling out all the stops for him, isn’t he? Alhaitham can’t say he’s surprised. Despite the rocky relationship from their Akademiya days, it’s undeniable that Kaveh would do anything to see his two best friends happy together (for the rest of their lives).

You nod in agreement.

“Yeah. This future homeowner sure is lucky though…”

He has to fight back a smile.

No, (Name). You’re the lucky one here.

Over the next few months, you watch as the house slowly comes together before your eyes. The foundation and frame are finished and bit by bit, the rest of the house is installed. Windows, doors, sheathing, insulation, paneling, siding, and all. Occasionally, you spot Kaveh on site working with the contractors. When that happens, you’ll stop for a bit to chat with him. You’ll ask him how the construction is going, to which he’ll say it’s going smoothly and they’re on schedule.

Strangely though, he never divulged who the client was. He keeps it vague, saying it was a wealthy client who commissioned it for his future spouse when they got married.

“What a lucky person,” you sigh.

(“Could you get any more obvious without giving everything away?” hisses Alhaitham when you’re looking the other way.

“Hey, as long as I don’t explicitly tell them it’s you commissioning it, it’s fine, right?”

(Alhaitham has never wanted to throttle Kaveh more in his life than now.)

Kaveh stops by one day when you’re in the garden. You’re weeding out your vegetable plot when you hear the crunch of footsteps approaching. The familiar sight of your friend greets you and you eagerly sit up and smile, wiping the sweat off your brow in an attempt to make yourself more presentable.

“Oh, Kaveh! You didn’t tell us you were stopping by! I would’ve prepared some tea and snacks otherwise…”

He waves your concerns off with a laugh.

“No need to. I’m just here to speak with Alhaitham. It’ll only be for a bit. Is he home?”

You nod.

“I’ll go get him.”

A few minutes later he emerges from the house, a little disgruntled after being woken up from his mid-afternoon nap.

“Make this quick,” he grumbles. You pointedly nudge him in the ribs.

You continue your work in the garden. Alhaitham glances at you after a bit, where you struggle with a particularly stubborn weed. His Dendro vision comes to life and the weed wilts before everyone’s eyes. You easily pull it out of the earth and flash him a thankful smile. While you’re occupied with the rest of the weeds, Alhaitham turns to Kaveh.

“So? What’s the occasion?” whispers Alhaitham.

“Good news,” Kaveh whispers back. “We’re ahead of schedule. The house should be finished within three months from now.”

Alhaitham raises an eyebrow. Kaveh scowls at him.

“Oh, wipe that surprised look off your face!” he hisses. “I know what you’re thinking of, ok? Turns out I can actually get work done- ahead of time as well.”

“I never said I doubted your ability. It’s just that seeing you ahead of schedule and not exceedingly behind is a rare sight indeed.”

“You-!”

Alhaitham cuts him off with a soft chuckle.

“Just kidding. But thank you, really.”

Kaveh stares at the man with a half-assed disgusted expression, clearly not used to seeing his friend all sentimental and genuine.

“Wipe that look off your face! It’s so uncharacteristic it’s giving me the creeps.”

With a dramatic shudder and a roll of his eyes, Kaveh looks back at you in the garden, where you’re still tending to the plants and blissfully unaware.

“(Name) really deserves a happy life after everything,” he murmurs. Alhaitham nods in agreement, his eyes still trained on your form and with a soft expression that’s reserved for you only.

“They really do.”

Over the next few days, his friends start acting weirdly. They have sly grins on their faces and say encouraging words to him out of nowhere, even going so far as to pat him on the back and congratulate him. For what though?

Instantly, Alhaitham knows something’s up. If he recalls correctly, Kaveh went out to the tavern last night and had a few drinks with the construction crew… And knowing him, a “few” drinks meant several glasses of wine and counting.

Oh no.

When he gets off work the next day, he goes on a manhunt for Kaveh. He spots the blond heading home, covered in dirt from spending a day at the construction site, and stalks toward him.

“Kaveh.”

The blond freezes at his voice and slowly looks up to meet his gaze. His leg twitches like he’s about to make a run for it at the sight of his longtime friend’s angry expression.

“... Yes?”

“Did you run your mouth last night while drunk and tell everyone that I was going to propose to (Name)?”

“...”

“Answer me, Kaveh.”

“... Perhaps?”

An uncharacteristically loud groan escapes his lips as he sighs. He massages his temple, already feeling the headache forming.

“Great. I was planning on having it be a private proposal too…”

Kaveh winces, feeling regretful about throwing a wrench in his friend’s plans.

“On the bright side, I don’t think (Name) has heard anything about it yet. I think everyone had the sense to keep their mouths shut about this…”

That much is true, realizes Alhaitham. You still seem oblivious to what’s been happening over the course of the past year. So it should work itself out in the end, right?

Kaveh is praying everyone keeps their lips sealed. His life is on the line if someone lets it slip.

Literally.

As predicted, Kaveh stops by three months later to tell him that the house has been completed. He takes off work the next day and until you return home, he bides his time, making sure everything is in order and that he still has the ring on him.

Dinner is already prepared when you return home. He needs to make this quick. He only has a limited window of time to act.

As soon as you’re done, he almost immediately asks if you’d like to go on your usual walk, then practically grabs you by the wrist and drags you out of the house with him. He’s nervous, even though he knows he has everything under control. The ring is with him, the weather is pleasant, and you’re nonetheless wiser, but his heart keeps pounding uncontrollably.

Meanwhile, you’re wondering what the hell has gotten into him.

The sun is starting to set when you arrive at the newly-completed house. Recognition flickers in your eyes.

“Want to take a look inside?”

“... Are we even allowed to?”

“Relax. I got the permission of the contractors and Kaveh to do so.”

He gently leads you inside. The place is unfurnished, but everything is clean and the wood gleams brightly in the light of the setting sun.

“It’s really spacious,” you remark as you step foot into the kitchen. The cabinets are a lot bigger than the ones at your current house. “And bright too.”

You head upstairs. The rooms are spacious as well, especially the bathroom.

A larger kitchen. Brighter lights. Bigger cabinets. A larger bathtub. At least, compared to your current house. It’s also just nicer overall. No more squeaky floorboards, no more cold drafts, and no more of the issues that come with an older house. It’s also quieter too, which you enjoy. Your current house is located near one of the busier streets in town, meaning you always hear people- even if it’s the middle of the night and it’s just a drunk person stumbling back home. Out here, however, it’s quiet, clean, and sunny. You couldn’t ask for anything else.

A thought begins to form and gnaw at the back of your mind.

You head out to the backyard, where you see a considerable portion of land is enclosed within the fence. Meaning you have plenty of space for a garden now.

…

You sigh mentally. He isn’t as slick as he thinks he is…

The sun is starting to dip beneath the horizon now. A cool breeze gently rustles the tree leaves and your hair. With his warm hand still wrapped around your wrist, he leads you out to the front again. The street is devoid of all people except for you two and the street lamp flickers to life behind him.

“We have already discussed this before, therefore I believe there is no real purpose in delaying this question. However, I know you are one for ceremony so I will abide by your wishes.”

Why the sudden formality is your question, but you let it slide. He takes a deep breath and runs his free hand through his hair. You’ve learned that it’s a tic of his when he’s nervous.

“I have always been confident in every decision I make. Every circumstance, outlier, and variable will be taken into consideration. Regardless of the consequences of the action or the weight it carries, I have almost never, if ever, felt anything other than certain that I have made the right decision with what I was given. And yet now… I find myself uncertain and self-assured at the same time.”

He turns to face you and lets go of your hands.

“Am I making the right decision? Or am I not? This time, you will be the determining factor. My heart is in your hands now, (Name).”

You watch with bated breath as he gets down on one knee and pulls out a box to reveal a glistening ring.

“Will you marry me?”

The world goes completely silent. It’s just the beating of your heart and earnest gaze of his exposed eye, patiently waiting for your response.

That is, until you hear rustling coming from the bushes a few feet away from you and some familiar voices carried along the wind.

“I can’t believe it’s happening!”

Your gaze flicks over to the bushes. So does Alhaitham’s.

“Uh oh, I think they saw us…”

“Quick, hide!”

“We’re already hiding though…”

The spell is broken. Alhaitham clicks his tongue and glares toward the direction of the noise, irritation evident in his eyes.

“He spotted us!”

“And here I was hoping we could eavesdrop without being noticed…”

Slowly, four people step out from behind the bushes, bashfully avoiding your gaze. Tighnari, Cyno, Kaveh, and even… Lisa?

Your jaw drops and your eyes practically pop out of your head at the sight of her. What’s she doing here?

The question must’ve been written all over your face because she chuckles.

“Little brother Cyno over here wrote me a letter telling me everything. When I got it, I dropped everything I was doing. I couldn’t possibly miss out on my dearest cutie’s proposal, after all.”

Lisa not being lazy for once? That’s something new, you think.

A gentle tug on your hand makes you refocus on Alhaitham again. Ignore them, says his gaze. But his gaze flicking back to them every few seconds tells you he wants them out of the picture for now. Kaveh, thankfully, gets the message and practically pushes everyone away out of view to give you two some privacy.

“They’re gone now, Haithoomi,” you say once they’re out of sight. “You can continue now.”

He exhales and rolls his eyes.

“Damn Kaveh, always finding a way to upset my plans…”

But the remark is lighthearted and he quickly refocuses.

“Will you marry me?” he repeats. His voice is softer than you’ve ever heard before, like he’s afraid to hear your response.

…

This silly man. As if you’d say no after all you’ve been through together.

“Despite all your mannerisms, there’s no one else I’d rather spend the rest of my life with. But I’m sure you already knew I’d say that, right?”

“I simply drew upon past information and conversations we had.”

You shake your head affectionately.

“Ever the pragmatist as always.”

A rare smile stretches across his face. He takes the ring out of its box and slips it onto your finger. It glides on smoothly and fits like a glove. When did he get your ring size measurement? Not like it matters anymore anyway.

You take a moment to admire it. It’s a simple and elegant ring with a standard gold band, but the massive emerald in the middle catches your eye. It gleams and sparkles in the evening setting sun. Smaller diamonds and emeralds encircle it and you can safely say you’ve never seen anything quite like it.

This, plus the house behind you, must’ve cost him a fortune. How long had he been saving up for? You’ve been seeing him come home later as well. Had he been working overtime even though he hates doing so?

“Haitham, you really shouldn’t have done all of this...” you choke out past the lump forming in your throat. He shushes you with a finger to your lips and dabs away at the tears in the corners of your eyes that you didn’t even realize were forming.

“But I did. And it’s because I wanted to. You, of all people in our friend group, deserve a happy life the most. After all we’ve been through together, I thought it was only fitting that I would be the one to make that happen.”

You let out a shaky laugh and blink the tears away. He graciously looks to the side.

“Imagine if I had said no.” That elicits a faint chuckle out of him too.

“That’d be quite the predicament I’d find myself in then. I can’t exactly return a finished house, can I?”

It turns out your friends were hiding right around the corner because as soon as you’re done, they rush over and swarm you with congratulations and well-wishes. They marvel over the ring on your finger and ask you questions about when the wedding is and your future together.

“About time,” says Kaveh as the two of them watch Lisa scoop you up into a tight hug and twirl you around from a distance away.

“Like you’re one to talk. How’s your love life going?”

Kaveh bristles and glares at him.

“I’m working on it, ok?! I can’t with you sometimes…”

The blond sighs and shakes his head before continuing.

“Not only were you the first to get a job and then become a homeowner in our friend group, but now you’re the first to get engaged as well! Stop rubbing your success in our faces, Alhaitham!”

The sun has set now. Surrounded by friends and the love of his life, there’s nowhere else he’d rather be.

A faint twinkle in the sky and the sound of something hissing overhead makes everyone pause.

It’s a shooting star.

It’s a small one compared to the one you saw during your Akademiya years, and a bit dimmer too, but it still has a tail to call its own as it speeds through the skies. Although it leaves as soon as it arrives, it leaves behind a multicolored afterglow above your new home that shines brighter than the star itself.

Alhaitham wonders where it's heading toward. Since it already entered the atmosphere, it’ll most likely disintegrate before reaching ground. That’s the logical answer, at least.

He casts a glance over at you, where you gaze up at the sky with a starry-eyed expression. You’re still as enamored with celestial events as you were years before, it seems. Some things never change.

But perhaps this shooting star has finally found a home to return to as well.

enjoyed my work? the taglist is open!

@ bottledpeaches, do not copy, repost, modify, translate, or feed to ai

#victoria.writes #—stellaronhvnters.#astronetwrk #alhaitham x reader #genshin x reader #alhaitham #genshin impact #alhaitham x gender neutral reader #alhaitham x y/n #alhaitham x you #genshin x y/n #genshin x you #genshin x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x you #genshin impact x gender neutral reader #genshin impact x reader #genshin fanfic #genshin fluff #alhaitham fluff

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cozy-writes-things · 1 year ago

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Electric Love: Pt. 1

Edgar [Electric Dreams 1984] x Gn!Reader

All of my fics so far have followed the same universe, so I thought it's only logical that I post an introduction to that universe.

The old man peering at you through puffy eyes and age seemed to have an air shrouded in mystery. His thin, white wisps of hair seemed to stagnate in place as he adjusted his button down.

“This old thing has been around for years now,” he gruffed—an unreadable tone—as his hand encased the yellowed plastic, “I don’t remember what happened to it; must have dropped it, or let some animal chip away at it.”

The dingy, vintage computer before your eyes surely had not been dropped, nor torn into by some animal. It sat upon his countertop completely destroyed; as if it had burst and shattered from the inside out, ripping the glass into jagged shards. You swallowed this thought; this was no time to debate the old man. He seemed to be quite senile as it was and pushing any further seemed like a fruitless effort. Instead, you stretched a thin smile his way, pursing your lips in thought.

“You actually think you can get this thing to work again?” he queried, raising a salt and pepper brow at your expression.

“Well, I’m not sure, but… I’d like to try,” what you hadn’t told him, however, was your infatuation with electronics. Ever since completing your bachelor’s in computer science, you have been tinkering away at many different projects in between jobs, building custom PCs, fixing old Game Boys, and many others. This little computer was an addition to your ever growing collection.

It came from a company you had never heard of before, only to learn it had become defunct in the 80s due to some inexplicable software issues in their products. This certainly intrigued you, as prodding into its code could provide some useful insight to real, vintage tech that just doesn’t exist anymore. But, that’s only if you manage to fix the heap of destruction limply hung before you.

The old man stiffened at your words, ever so slightly, before rattling out, “Well, if you do, don’t bring it anywhere near me. I can’t stand all this tech, and gadgets, and whatnot. Pisses me off.”

“Right,” you interjected, knowing people like him tend to go on long, anti-future, anti-technology rants, trying desperately to beat him to the punch, “well, how much do you want for it?”

He stilled, contemplating for a moment, “twenty-five should be fine.”

“Perfect,” you chirped, padding against your pockets and bag searching for some cash. Pulling out your wallet, you waded around the folds, only to find a crumpled up and faded ten dollar bill and a debit card.

“Ah, I’ve only got a ten…”

He rolled his eyes, “of course you do, you got PayPal, then?” Your cheeks flushed a burning red hot from embarrassment, “ah, yes, I do-”

“Great, just pay me that way,” he bent down and scribbled something messily onto a note, “here’s my information. I made sure to set this up for people like you, you know. Nobody carries cash anymore, or so my grandson tells me.”

You force out a nervous chuckle.

“That’s certainly true… these days, ah…” you unlocked your phone and began inputting his information into PayPal before pressing send on the digital payment, “okay, it went through.”

“Perfect. You need help getting this hunk of junk to your car?”

“No, I should be fine, thank you, sir,” you croak as you heave the broken computer into your arms, heading towards his door.

“Well, come back if you want to buy anything else. Nobody goes to yard sales anymore, it seems.”

You can only turn your head and chuckle at his quip, before awkwardly dashing out of his apartment and towards your car. The dampened asphalt from the rain squelched under your toes as you lugged the large piece of tech to the passenger side.

“There,” you whispered, to nobody in particular, as you awkwardly buckled the computer in place, “hopefully you won’t fall that way.”

And just like that, you were off, headed towards home to begin the massive project that was repairing this obsolete device.

“What to do with you?”

You groaned as you thumped the solid mass of plastic and metal against your desk, “you’re incredibly broken.”

First and foremost, it needs a screen replacement. Which is easier said than done. Especially considering the company who manufactured these things hasn’t existed in 40 years. Unfortunately, a close replica will have to do. Maybe you could even upgrade its screen with something with a bit more prowess.

Poking inside of its components seemed to tell a different story. Miraculously, none of the motherboards were damaged with the same ferocity the screen had been. There seemed to be some sort of dried, caked on water damage of some sort, that left a sticky residue, but otherwise, everything seemed to be relatively intact. The yellowed casing could use a wipe down from the thick layer of starchy dust, but it seemed to hold its original shape with surprising ease.

Following a closer inspection, it seemed as though the glass screen, and the components in charge of illuminating it, were the only things in need of replacing. A quick browse on Amazon, some tech forums, and a post on Reddit should be a good start in finding a usable replacement for this sad, broken gadget.

For now, however, you get some isopropyl alcohol and a soft bristled toothbrush to chip away at the water damage on the motherboards in hopes of restoring the electrical connections. You were quite hopeful that you’d get this little guy up and running just as soon as you could find the right parts. It’s only a matter of time.

#ai x reader #artificial intelligence x reader #edgar electric dreams x reader #electric dreams 1984 #electric dreams edgar #electric dreams x reader #electric dreams #edgar electric dreams #objectum

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fourgods-nobrakes · 1 month ago

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Summer Fest is here! I'm nominating a bunch of things from relatively rare bits of canon, but perhaps one of you would like to read one of these things and get to know some of these characters. I'm not discussing the Black Legion or Fabius Bile books, because you already know about those (read them read them read them they have great ensemble casts, please ship some of the less common pairs with me), but here are some of the less-discussed ones:

Harrowmaster, by Mike Brooks: Solomon Akurra is an Alpha Legionnaire who wants to see his Legion become a force to be reckoned with again. He has some plans to give them a reason to rally around him, and he has a very cool ex-imperial psyker on his side, which is good because he also has a number of enemies both within the Legion and otherwise. Fun twisty plot and an excellent read for people who enjoy when an Astartes has a solid working partnership with a mortal ally; she's capable, dangerous, and very willing to give him shit when he needs it. There's also a secret bonus ship option that I don't want to talk about too much because of important plot turning points, but it hit me hard in the brotherhood and trust places.

Shroud of Night, by Andy Clark: the Unsung are a small Alpha Legion warband who've been in a warzone for long enough to develop a wide variety of I Can't Believe It's Not PTSD. Now they have a mission to perform a high-stakes reverse heist, delivering a mortal to a key location on an embattled planet while trying not to get killed by either the imperial defenders or the Khornate berserkers besieging the place—and, of course, trying not to fall apart from the growing tensions among the team. I'm here for the poor mortal, who has clearly never gotten the hugs he needs, but there are a variety of cool dynamics among the group. ...Followers of either Celestine's or Khârn's careers should know they both turn up here, though they're both mostly here to be terrifying forces of nature that our lads try not to get killed by.

"Sacred Hate," short story by David Annandale: Mr. Annandale wrote this story for me specifically, I'm pretty sure. It centers on Cerastes, a teenager who's in training to be a missionary for the Ecclesiarchy, but who's been privately having a crisis of faith. Then the ship he's traveling on gets attacked by Word Bearers, and he discovers what he was looking for. (Spoilers: it's not the God-Emperor's light.)

The Red Tithe, by Robbie MacNiven: A Carcharodons company and a Night Lords warband walk into a bar prison planet... They're both looking to replenish their numbers from the teenage boys in the prison. And a psyker on each side has divined that one of the boys is an unsanctioned psyker whose power could be very useful if they can secure him. The boy in question just hopes he can get out alive. This one's definitely dark; the Carcharodons might be on the imperial side but they're brutal in ways that are usually glossed over for their compatriots. Most of the story takes place in the prison complex and the attached mines, so the whole thing feels claustrophobic at times. MacNiven also cares more about tactics than a lot of BL authors, so the battles are more interesting than "we charge into a hail of gunfire, fearless and unstoppable." Grim but very cool.

Day of Ascension, by Adrian Tchaikovsky: If you've read his other work you know he's interested in, and sympathetic toward, non-human POVs, and thus you know why I'm so fond of this book. It takes place on a forge world where the miserable living conditions of the non-Mechanicus work force have provided fertile ground for the growth of a genestealer cult. The cover blurb suggests that the power plays among the tech priests are the central plot, but actually the emotional core of the book is Davien, a young woman in the cult who is coming into her strength as the arrival of the cult's "angels" draws near, and whose passion for her people will wind up being key to their future. My big ship for this one doesn't sail until late in the book, but man, when it happens, it's so good.

#mini book reviews #summerfest

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merakiui · 2 years ago

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thinking about androids again, but rather than the plot seen in android jade,,,, consider android floyd who is being developed by tech genius idia shroud with input and funding from business magnate azul ashengrotto.

(cw: yandere, unhealthy behaviors/relationship, obsession, vaguely implied non-con/dub-con, android floyd)

He's designed to be a companion for those who are lonely and in need of the company (whether physically or socially). You're just a tired, overworked university student, so it's mind-boggling to you when there's a sleek limousine parked just beyond campus property. Security guards are insisting you come with them because there's someone who'd like to meet you.

In the limo, you find yourself sitting across from Azul Ashengrotto himself. He doesn't bother with flowery introductions, instead cutting to the heart of the matter. You've been randomly selected to help with a very important phase of his and Idia's project. The general idea is to test how well the android interacts with a normal, ordinary person in a monitored setting.

You're very confused. You never signed up for any lottery, and you certainly aren't affiliated with anything of that sort. You're just trying to get through your degree, survive two part-times, and hopefully make enough to keep afloat for another month. Azul tells you this isn't an issue; you'll be generously compensated for your time and efforts. It's only three months; you'll be permitted to live your life as you normally would, only now you'll be accompanied by a highly intelligent android.

Despite hearing all of this, you hesitate when he reveals the lengthy contract. As you flip through it, analyzing each clause and category, Azul says something that piques your interest. "We don't expect you to house an android in your little apartment. Goodness, that's simply ludicrous. We'll provide your housing for these next three months. After all, we must be able to monitor your progress."

"Housing? What do you mean?"

He smiles at you. Backdropped by leather interior, the lights casting odd shadows on his face, he looks near-sinister. But he leans forward to press a ballpoint pen into your hands and the illusion vanishes. "I think you'll find it quite to your liking. If you've finished your classes for the day, why not visit the property with me? Then you may decide whether you wish to participate."

You're not worried about that part. What worries you the most, however, is the fact that he's right. You are finished with classes for the day and you have nothing planned. You took today off from work. Your schedule is perfectly free.

But of course the Azul Ashengrotto wouldn't know that, would he?

The house is a smart home, equipped with every necessity and appliance. Everything's controlled by a remote here. It's not very far from your university either, built on a hill that overlooks houses below. It feels a little isolating and smells very new and clean. Like that fabled new car smell, only it's a house. But everything is so unique to you. Its minimalistic design is oddly cozy, and you can't help but feel enchanted the deeper you venture through the two-story home. It's all so unreal!

Azul gives you the rundown, explains how the remote and each button works. You can lock doors, open and close windows, mess with the thermostat, turn the home security on and off, and even start the oven. You hold the power to this home in the palm of your hands. It's immensely fascinating.

By the end of the tour, you're shaking his hand and signing his contract, agreeing to three months of study. Not only are you provided this nice home, you'll also be paid per week. And the pay is far more than you were making with your two jobs.

The android has a long, tongue-tying serial number, so to make things easier he's named Floyd. They even gave him a surname in preparation for the twin android who is being designed to complement and mirror him. He certainly looks human when you meet him, but there's this uncanny nature to his presence that slightly unnerves you. He's too perfect. Skin too smooth. Eyes too bright. Hair too soft. He towers over you, having to bend down to walk through the doorframe, and every movement he makes is very mechanical and stiff.

Still, you smile at him and offer your hand. "Hi there. I'm (Name). Your...housemate, I guess."

He nods, peering down at your hand before lifting his own. "Floyd Leech. At your service."

You were expecting to feel coldness, so you startle when his hand fits into yours and it's warm. It feels so very real. So deceptively lifelike. You wonder if he can regulate his own internal temperatures. Just how advanced is he?

"Right... Um, I look forward to getting to know you!"

He nods again, releasing your hand after a perfectly timed handshake.

Azul had given you a special number should you need to reach him or Idia. All you needed to do was phone it if at any point you were to feel confused or unsafe. "But I don't think you'll utilize it," he told you when you stood in the lab, watching Idia Shroud flit around to do final maintenance checks to ensure Floyd was ready for his first trial run. His eyes were open the entire time, two mismatched lights centered on you. His stare was listless, but somehow you felt as if he was looking through to your very soul. "He's very safe. In fact, he's programmed to assess and react appropriately to dangers of all kinds. You'll be safe with him around."

And safe you are.

You've always been alone, so it's nice to have a roommate, even if he only speaks when spoken to. It's awkward for all of one week until you ease into his pattern. From various vantage points throughout the house, Idia and Azul watch through hidden cameras. You cook your meals for yourself and Floyd watches, assisting when you order him to. You leave for class and Floyd waits by the door for you to return, standing stock-still for hours.

You lounge in the sitting room and put on all kinds of films. Action. Comedy. Horror. Floyd's eyes never leave the screen. But sometimes he watches you more than he watches the movie, noting all of your reactions. He doesn't understand why you get so emotional over sappy romances. So you explain it simply: "It evokes emotions. We all have emotions, and these movies make us feel them. Happy. Sad. Angry. Upset. Things like that."

But Floyd doesn't feel. Even so, he listens and he nods along, filing your answers away for later dissection. It's interesting.

By the end of the first month, Floyd's adopted new habits. Ever since you told him he's free to do as he pleases, he's taken to cooking your meals for you, doing your laundry, preparing your bag for the day. He's surprisingly good at it. He does chores when you leave for classes or work. And for the first time in a while you're excited to return home, knowing he's there waiting.

Floyd adds new words and phrases to his ever-expanding vocabulary. You watch a lot of TV together and he starts to use some of what he hears in his own speech. He picks up informal language quickly, and it isn't long until he's using words like sup or dunno instead of the rigid how are you? and I am unsure he was previously programmed with.

The first sign of unrest comes when you realize Floyd's also connected to the smart home. At first you didn't think it was a bad thing. After all, with him controlling it you won't have to worry about getting up to grab the remote if you've already sat down. Floyd can do that for you. But then the remote goes missing, later turning up shattered. You ask Floyd what happened and he looks at you and says, "Why use this piece of junk when you've got me?"

"Still... What if you're not able to help? What if you're in sleep mode and I need to open a window or something?" you argue, cradling the splinters of remote like they're an injured baby bird.

"That won't happen," he replies smoothly, issuing you a soothing smile. "I'm always gonna be here for ya. Count on it."

And you do because, by the time the three months are nearing their end and Floyd's developed into quite the companion, more and more human than he's ever seemed, you find yourself stuck.

No, not stuck. That's not quite right. You're more so trapped.

Floyd locks the doors, shutters the windows, turns off the lights. You're cowering in the closet, the only place that feels just a little safe in this moment. You can't reach Azul or Idia either. He's shut the power off, the internet connection, everything. The smart home on the hilltop feels like a tiny island now, and Floyd's the shark always circling it, waiting for you to dip your feet into the depths.

"C'mon, Shrimpy," he calls out, and it's a nickname you were once so fond of because he thought of it himself. "I already told ya I ain't gonna hurt ya. So just come out and talk to me."

You have no idea where you went wrong. Was it too many horror films? Was it the fact that you started to rely so heavily on him for companionship, ignoring your human friends in favor of staying in with Floyd? Or was it because he was blocking their numbers that you never received any messages and automatically assumed they were cutting contact? He said he'd always be here for you, so why to this degree?

The closet doors are thrown open. Floyd drags you, kicking and screaming, out by the ankles. Every camera has gone dark on Azul and Idia's end. All but one. The one in the bedroom. Floyd stares directly at it when he lifts you up and lays you on the bed, gentle and sugary-sweet.

He smiles and waves before that screen blanks out, leaving you truly trapped with him.

And because it's all experimental, morbid curiosity trumping ethical morals, no one comes to rescue you.

Three months is more of an indefinite forever in this lonesome smart home.

#meraki mumbles #yandere twst

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zoeykallus · 2 years ago

Note

Ello Zoey!! 👋

Sorry if this is too much or not,

Can I request some HCs of the bad batch’s fem! s/o being clumsy. They always see y/n trip, and sometimes catch her by the back of her shirt, to make sure she doesn’t fall.

Aloha!

Sounds kinda cute, let me give it a try 😁

The Bad Batch x Fem!Reader HCs - Clumsy

Fluff/Fun

________

Ko-Fi (If you feel like giving me some coffee)

________

>Master List<

________

Hunter

His senses, his perception, are always alert and very attentive around you. Actually, you are not that long together yet, but nevertheless, you can no longer count on your fingers how many times he has already saved you from injuries and greater damage. Be it tripping at an inopportune moment, dropping dangerous objects or accidentally leaning against unsafe/dangerous objects. Of course, he can't be around you 24/7, so he frequently tends to minor wounds you accidentally inflict on yourself, like cuts while cooking, or minor burns and bruises. Hunter, meanwhile, has developed yet another sense, another antenna, that is solely concerned with you. Whenever he's near you, his neural pathways buzz as soon as you trip, falter, or drop something, and he's on the spot in a flash. Luckily for you, he likes to do that and even if he sighs more often or breathes a sigh of relief when he can prevent the worst from happening, he'll never complain. "I got you, darling"

Echo

He sighs as he grabs you in the back of your jacket and pulls you back, keeping you from falling off the ramp. "Sometimes you scare me Love, one of these days you're going to fall when I'm not around and crack your skull or something," he says grumbling. You smile crookedly and say, "I'm trying not to do that." "So far you're not doing very well," Echo says, kissing your cheek. Tending to minor cuts, bruises and the like on you are already routine for Echo, as is the quick grab to keep you from falling. His reflexes and senses can't keep up with Hunter, but he's not too far off either. In any case, around him, it's extremely rare for anything to happen to you, despite your clumsiness. He is constantly worried and expresses it, but at the same time he is tireless in protecting you, sometimes even from yourself.

Wrecker

You are lying on the floor. Somehow you tripped over something, maybe even your own feet, hit your head and went down unconscious. "Hey, sweetie, you okay?" You open your eyes and look up into Wrecker's face, which hovers over you with concern. The next moment, you're carefully picked up by two strong hands and set down on one of the bunks. You blink and say, "Yeah, I think so, fell and hit my head". Wrecker raises his eyebrows. "Again? Now that's what I'm starting to worry about," Wrecker says as he carefully examines your head. He finds a bump, but no open wound. "Maybe Tech or Echo should do a scan, just in case," he says seriously. Wrecker always keeps an eye on you when you're around him, and his strong hand keeps providing protection and safety, but you keep managing to accidentally hurt yourself. "I have a headache," you say softly, rubbing the bump gently. Wrecker kisses your forehead and says, "I'm not surprised, but don't worry, sweetie, we'll take care of it." Wrecker is very patient and a total softie when it comes to you.

Tech

He is engrossed in his Holopad, eagerly calculating a few things to follow up on one of his hunches, when he hears a small noise, accompanied by a surprised little exclamation, followed by a slightly louder rumble. He blinks. Lowers the holopad and finally sighs softly. "My love?" He hears your voice from the hallway, "Um, yeah, over here. Could you maybe help me out for a second?" Tech hastily puts the holopad aside, stands up and walks into the hallway. His eyes widen in surprise when he sees that you've managed to stumble into the utility closet and got tangled up in Hunter's fishing gear. Tech says dryly, "My dear, you really do have a special talent." You sigh, "Don't joke around now please honey, just help me instead". Tech shakes his head but comes closer and starts untangling you from fishing line and other items and finally pulls you out of the chamber. "I really can't let you out of my sight," he says gently and at the same time reprovingly. You shrug your shoulders and reply meekly, "I'm really not doing this on purpose, Tech." "It's okay," he says with a smile, kissing your cheek, fishing a plastic bait out of your hair, and adding, "I'm just glad you're usually lucky enough to avoid major injury."

Crosshair

He hears a clang, then a rumble. "Let me guess, you're home again, honey?" he asks dryly without looking up. You say just as dryly, "No, I'm a burglar". With a sigh, Crosshair gets up from his chair and walks into the kitchen. You've managed to knock over a vase and an end table, tearing your pantyhose in the process. "A pretty talentless burglar," he says, grabbing your arm and pulling you back to your feet, "Did you hurt yourself?" You shake your head and sigh. "No, I don't think so." Crosshair crouches down and looks at your leg, just a run in the tights, no scrapes in the skin underneath. He stands back up, kisses your cheek, maneuvers you around the debris, and finally picks up the pieces. Crosshair usually counters your clumsiness in his own way with jokes and sarcasm, but always watches out for you, and takes care of your wounds and the property damage you cause. He grumbles now and then, but he is much more patient and caring than he sometimes pretends to be.

@rintheemolion

@andyoufollowyourheart @clone-whore-99

@brynhildrmimi @kaliel2310

@misogirl828 @tech-deck

@meshla-madalene

@chxpsi

@thebahdbitch

@nahoney22 @ladykatakuri

@darkangel4121

@ttzamara

@arctrooper69

@padawancat97

@agenteliix

@allsystemsblue

@palliateclaw

@either-madness-or-brilliance

@ortizshinkaroff

@andy-solo1

@hunterssecretrecipe

@heyitsaloy

@greaser-wolf

@extrahotpixels

@hated-by-me

@hunterxcrosshair

@malicemercy

@bebopsworld

@echos-girlfriend

@cpnt616

@dangraccoon

@jediknightjana

@pb-jellybeans

@antishadow2021

@sleepycreativewriter

@projectdreamwalker

@1vlouds

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snitchcrimsonwrites · 21 days ago

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Drawn Together-Chapter 17

Pairing: Tech x Jedi! Reader

The Batch receives a communication from Hera asking for some assistance on Ryloth. They reluctantly offer their services. While on the rescue mission, Tech has some words for you after you deviate from mission protocol.

Takes place during the season one episode Rescue on Ryloth.

Chapter 16

Chapter 18

The Marauder drifted through hyperspace, bound for yet another unpredictable and likely underbriefed assignment from Cid. In the common area, you sat back in a chair, absently working on modifying a half-mask to better contour to your face. In light of Tech’s recent security concerns, you both agreed that simply pulling up your cloak during missions wouldn’t suffice anymore. Even with your new identity in the Empire database, you were still too recognizable. So, here you were obliging.

Up in the cockpit, Tech manned the controls, keeping an eye on nearby communication channels and scanning the arrays from the pilot’s seat when a sudden beep echoed from the Marauder’s console, causing him to frown. “Hunter, we are receiving a recorded transmission, but I do not recognize this frequency.”

Hunter turned his head, uncertain about who else in the galaxy might be reaching out to them. “Patch it through.” At that, the other crew members became attentive, their curiosity piqued as the mysterious message came to life. You all gathered as the holographic image glimmered before you, accompanied by an urgent, desperate, and familiar voice.

“Omega? It’s Hera. You have to come back to Ryloth. The Empire’s taken my parents, and now they’re after me, too. I’m sending coordinates. Please hurry; I need your help.“

The message cut off suddenly, leading to a heavy silence. It was the young girl Omega befriended during the weapons drop. Hunter's tone turned accusatory as he expressed his concerns to Omega. “You gave her our comm channel?” That was a massive risk.

Omega’s face went pale when she saw it was her new friend in distress. “For emergencies, which that sounded pretty urgent. We need to go.”

Tech adjusted the waveform on his console before speaking, his voice skeptical. “Perhaps the situation isn't as serious as described,” he remarked. “Children tend to overexaggerate."

Omega faced him, the frustration plain on her face. “No, we don’t. You heard her. She needs us.”

Tech opened his mouth to reply, but you gently stepped in, placing a hand on Omega’s shoulder. A steadying gesture. “It might not be an exaggeration,” you said evenly. “For a young girl to reach out to a group of mercenary strangers? I dunno know, it could be serious.”

Hunter exhaled slowly, his hands resting on the back of the co-pilot’s chair.“Omega,” he said carefully, “it’s a big galaxy. We can’t put ourselves on the line whenever someone’s in trouble.”

“But why not?” Omega pressed. “Isn’t that what soldiers do?” She looked over to you for support. “What Jedi do? You did that for us on Pantora,” Omega added, eyes returning to the group. “Y/N didn’t know us, but she didn’t turn her back on us either.”

All eyes turned toward you, tension shifting. Your first act of compassion for the Batch was on full display. You sighed, knowing honesty might put you at odds with Hunter again.“If I had ignored what I saw on Pantora, I’d have walked away from everything I believed in.”

Hunter turned his gaze, tension in his jaw. He continued to weigh his options, remaining uncertain. It was his responsibility to ensure everyone's safety, and he didn’t take it lightly. You provided Hunter with a lifeline, a compromise, but not a commitment. “Maybe we should at least check, Hunter? I don’t like the idea of leaving a little girl alone in the hands of the Empire if we can help it.”

He sighed. His eyes met yours, then Omega’s, before he turned to the nav console. “...Set a course for Ryloth,” he said.

—-----------

Despite Hunter’s initial doubts, the man was actually easily persuaded. Hera stood near the console’s holo-emitter, her hands trembling ever so slightly as she activated the projection of the refinery. “If we attack there, reinforcements will be diverted from the capitol.”

“We can use that distraction to rescue Hera’s parents,” Omega clarifies, her strategic aptitude shining through.

Hunter leaned in, studying the projection. “Any heavy defenses at the refinery?”

“Five perimeter cannons,” Hera answered, tapping each one on the display. “But they’re unmanned, automated.”

Tech adjusted his goggles, squinting at the map now. “Auto cannons are extremely vulnerable, but without disabling them first, the Marauder will be locked out of any approach. Where is the control console?”

“Right inside the main gate. It’s heavily guarded, but that’s where Chopper comes in,” Hera said confidently, pointing to the orange droid. “He can slip inside with the other droids and disable the cannons.”

Hunter nodded once, making a quick decision.“All right, you two go with Chopper as backup, but at a distance.”

“Really?!” Omega and Hera exclaimed in unison, the surprise and excitement clear on their faces.

Tech’s demeanor shifted, anxious about the idea of the two teenage girls being alone during such a crucial phase of the mission. “By themselves?”

Hunter shook his head, knowing he had thought of that. “Y/N will provide support from above on the ridge. If those cannons don’t go down in time, she’ll intervene.”

You gave a subtle smile, understanding his intent. Plan B ought to involve a covert Jedi intervention. “Let’s call it a backup plan. If the girls can’t shut it down, I’ll take the control station myself.”

Hunter bent closer to the map, prepared with the final elements of the plan. “Tech, Wrecker. Wait until those cannons are down and move in. Once the refinery’s lit up and the capitol starts to thin, Echo and I will scale the wall and free Hera’s parents.”

Although the challenges for this mission were significant—an Imperial stronghold encircling the capital, Crosshair's presence on the planet, and the knowledge that Hera’s parents posed a threat to the Empire—it only required two resolute girls with a holomap and a solid strategy to turn the tide. You weren’t surprised, though. While Hunter tends to assess risks and keep the team grounded, deep down, you knew these clones all genuinely cared about the individuals they once vowed to protect. That, more than anything, was why you trusted the Batch, why you’d chosen to stay among their ranks.

Suddenly, you were crouched on the ridge, gazing down at the refinery, as the shadows elongated across the canyon with the approach of dusk. From your vantage point, you could see the patrols advancing in a rhythmic pattern. You tightened your grip on the staff, anticipating the signal from Omega and Hera. With any luck, it should be any minute now. At least you hoped, not wanting to expose yourself to the Empire any further if you could avoid it.

But instead of their voices, Tech cut through the comms, sharp and questioning, probing for an update. “Omega, has Chopper deactivated the perimeter cannons?”

“Not yet,” Omega replied, her voice strained and clearly focused on something. “But Hera and I are working on it. Just… don’t shoot down our shuttle.”

There was a pause. “…Wait. What shuttle?” Tech’s confusion was audible.

A second later, the answer came in the form of a thundering boom. Explosions erupted along the east platform beyond the main gate; that was your cue.

Tech’s voice came back over the comms, questioning. “Omega, I’m registering multiple explosions near the refinery.”

“That was us,” Omega confirmed with a hint of pride. “Cannons are down. Do some damage, Y/N. You too, Wrecker.”

You moved. In one smooth motion, you launched off the ridge, gliding down the canyon wall with your staff anchoring your descent. Above, the Marauder screamed across the skyline, guns blazing. Wrecker shouted over the comms, unleashing a barrage of cover fire across the refinery platform.

“Wrecker,” Tech’s voice snapped, “give Y/N something to work with.”

“With pleasure!” Wrecker bellowed, pivoting the guns toward the canyon wall. A blast slammed into the cliffside, sending rock and shrapnel exploding outward. You reached out, pulling the debris with a focused Force grip, guiding it down with a crash onto the facility’s perimeter wall.

The impact cracked the facility’s main wall and flung you forward, landing hard but controlled on the outer grounds of the refinery. “On-site. I’ll stir up some additional chaos before you arrive to get me," you report.

“Affirmative.”

And chaos it was. The confusion surrounded you as alarms blared and Imperial troopers rushed to address the two shuttles overhead, showering gunfire on the facility below. You pressed forward through the confusion, moving low between the shadows of debris and Wrecker’s gun sweeps from above. You moved deeper into the facility grounds when something captured your attention. A small group of refinery workers huddled together, trapped by the crossfire between the Marauder and the responding Imperial troopers.

You moved decisively, deflecting the incoming blaster bolts with your staff. While doing so, you shouted orders to the civilians, directing them towards a safer corridor and blocking any pursuers from retreating after them. Your priorities shifted.

“That oughta keep ‘em busy!” Wrecker called over the comms, watching as plumes of fire burst across the access routes to the refinery.

From the cockpit, Tech’s fingers raced over the controls, searching for patterns amid the mayhem. “Explosions have diverted seventy-four percent of local patrol units from the capital grid. The strategy is working. Hunter and Echo should have sufficient time to work with.”

“Now we just gotta scoop up Y/N,” Wrecker said.

Tech patched into your frequency. “Y/N, we’re inbound. Extraction vector ninety-seven. Estimated window: one minute, thirty-five seconds.”

No reply.

He frowned, fighting off any initial concern, adjusting the signal strength before trying you again. “Y/N, respond. Status?”

Static hissed. Then finally came your voice, breathless, strained, clearly concentrating.

“I’ve broken off. Civilians trapped near sector seven. I’m clearing them out.”

Tech’s jaw tensed. “That is well outside the extraction zone,” he muttered to himself. “She’s compromising the timeline…”

“She’s helping people,” Wrecker replied, catching his words even at a low volume.

Tech didn’t acknowledge it. He toggled the comm again, frustration now evident. “Y/N. Return to your designated evac zone. Now.”

Moments later, the Marauder flew low over the outskirts of the refinery, its ramp descending as it hovered in the air. Waiting. You burst through the smoke, arriving mostly on schedule despite your detour, ushering the last of the civilians behind a barricade before racing to the edge. With a burst of momentum and a leap aided by the Force, you landed hard on the Marauder’s ramp, Wrecker catching your arm to steady you as the ship pulled away.

“Great job down there,” he remarked, his eyes still shining with post-rush adrenaline. Excited to have finally blown something up on a mission.

You nodded, your breath hitching in your chest. “Could’ve been worse.”

But tension met you the moment you stepped into the cockpit. “You deviated from the mission parameters,” Tech said without looking back. “That action placed the operation's success at risk.”

You paused, saying, “I diverted for less than ninety seconds,” your voice calm even as your heart raced. “Civilians would’ve died.”

“Which, under the operational conditions,” Tech responded, "involved adding an unexpected variable to a coordinated strike. We were working with a tight schedule. Any deviation heightens risk and lowers the chances of mission success.”

You stared at him, jaw set. “So rescuing civilians was a liability.”

“To the mission’s success—yes,” he said, arms folding across his chest. “You became a variable we could not account for.”

The silence that followed was thick and sharp. Wrecker glanced between you both, uneasy. “Tech…” cautioning his brother, but he didn’t catch it.

You didn’t answer or argue. You just looked at Tech, your expression unreadable. Not angry, and not surprised, either. Then you turned away without another word and moved toward the back of the ship, waiting to rendezvous with the rest of the squad.

—-------------

Tech took his usual pilot’s position at the Marauder’s console. The mission was complete. The refinery was devastated and ablaze, Hera and her parents were safe, reunited, Crosshair posed no significant threat, and the Empire was left scrambling on Ryloth. By all accounts, it had been a success. But something felt… off.

His gaze shifted to the rear hatch. Typically, after a mission, you would hang around the common areas, making a dry remark about Wrecker’s inventive destruction, absorbing Omega's enthusiastic recap of every detail, and eventually gravitating toward him. But that isn’t true tonight. Your absence has created a void he doesn't know how to fill.

He turned his head slightly, just enough to notice you sitting cross-legged in the rear hold by the landing gear, deeply immersed in meditation. This wasn't unusual on its own; however, the timing was. By this point, he was familiar enough with your idiosyncrasies to know you meditated in the quiet of dawn or dusk; you rarely meditated right after a mission, and usually not on board the ship if you could avoid it. Two significant deviations from your typical behaviors.

"She’s meditating again,” Tech remarked, blinking as the thought took shape. "The timing is atypical."

“Yeah?” Wrecker glanced up from cleaning his weapon. “Probably didn’t like what you said when she got back on board.”

Tech frowned, confused by his brother's comment. “What I said?” He paused, running back the mission timeline in his head. “I confirmed the operational consequences of her actions. Her departure from procedure impacting extraction efficiency and—”

Hunter raised an eyebrow, already sensing what was happening "Tech, what did you actually say to her?”

He adjusted his goggles, thinking. “I stated: ‘You deviated from the mission parameters. That action placed the success of the operation at risk.”

Echo shot him a flat look and shook his head, already aware of where this was going. “I was simply being factual,” Tech defended. “Her decision put the mission—”

Wrecker gave him a dismissive slap on the back. "Yeah, yeah. But what you’re overlooking, brain boy, is that she saved lives. And you told her that it was the wrong decision."

“She became a variable we could not account for,” Tech repeated aloud, quoting himself.

Hunter leaned back in his seat with a low whistle. “Oof.” Wrecker gave a soft grunt. “Yeeeah. Might’ve been the wrong thing to say.”

Tech fell silent, his mind processing the emotional implications. “…I will speak with her,” Tech said finally, standing up.

“Smart. And maybe don’t call her a variable again,” Echo added.

Tech descended to the rear of the ship with measured steps, but you didn’t look up or turn your head. But he knew you sensed him coming. He paused a few feet away and announced himself anyway. “Y/N”.

“Tech.”

“You’re meditating outside your regular schedule,” he noted. You didn’t respond, remaining in your meditative state.

He paused for a moment before taking a seat down next to you. “I reviewed our last interaction, from when you boarded the Marauder,” he said, hands folded in his lap. “And… I realize my phrasing may have caused offense.”

You let out a sigh, your eyes still shut. “I’m not upset by your words, Tech. Honestly, I can take criticism. I’ve faced harsher comments from Council members, commanders, and even Sith. You’re not even in the top five.”

“That is not a comforting statistic.”

You smirked just a little, keeping your eyes closed. “What stung… is that it came from you.”

“I see,” he said softly.

“No, I don’t think you do,” you said challengingly, before opening your eyes now and connecting with him. “I’m not upset because you pointed out a tactical risk. I’m upset because I’m not sure you really understand who I am. Or maybe… you forget, sometimes.”

Tech’s posture stiffened slightly. “I assure you, I am very aware that you are a Jedi.”

“Are you though? I mean really. I don’t just have Jedi training; I am a Jedi. Even now, after everything. It’s still my identity. It shapes how I see the world, how I make decisions, and who I choose to stand up for. I could walk away from the Temple. From the Council. But I can’t walk away from people who need help. That’s not something I can switch off.”

He didn’t interrupt. Just listened.

"When you referred to me as a ‘variable you couldn’t account for,’ it sounded like it was just an impulsive distraction. That’s not true. Those are not deviations; they are choices. Choices I will always stand by."

“I never intended to undermine your beliefs,” he stated, his tone calm and measured. "Nor your sense of duty."

“I know,” she nodded. “But if we’re doing this… You and me… then you don’t get to only accept those parts of me when it’s convenient for a mission or our squad. It doesn’t work that way. I’m always going to put myself on the line for people.”

Tech looked at you for a while, really looked at you, before saying, “Then I need to adjust my parameters.”

You searched for meaning in his expression before finally allowing a faint, tired smile. “I realize I certainly didn’t make things easier for you earlier either,” you admitted, “I broke formation, failed to check in, and left you to adapt without warning.”

He reached over and gently placed his hand over yours, and you didn’t pull away. “You did, in fact, throw approximately forty-six percent of my field plan into chaos. But… I’ve recalibrated for worse, there's always Omega to contend with.”

You gave him a playful nudge with your elbow.“If I’d known you had a sense of humor buried under all that logic, I would’ve tried throwing off your plans a long time ago.”

Tech allowed himself a small smile. “You’ve been doing that since the day you joined us.”

You pretended to be offended. “Excuse me—I’ll have you know I’ve been a delightful variable.”

“Delightful, yes. Also mercurial, non-linear, and moderately resistant to predictive modeling.”

“Says the man who memorized my meditation schedule.” He laughs, fully caught, but seemingly not minding. Eventually, you leaned your head against his shoulder, not needing to say more.

#star wars bad batch #the bad batch #tbb x reader #tech x reader #tech bad batch #tech x jedi oc #tech x jedi reader

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hemantrowdy · 2 months ago

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starwarsbean · 9 months ago

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LOVE AGAINST THE ODDS

Pairing: TECH X F READER 18+

AN: THIS IS A SHORT STORY OF TECH AND THE BAD BATCH LIVING IN MODERN UNIVERSE. IT IS A SLOWBURN FAKE DATING STORY FOR FUN. NOT PROOFREAD. ALSO, THERE WILL BE SMUT IN FUTURE CHAPTERS.

CHAPTER 6

Waking up to the sunlight beaming through your curtains hitting directly on your face. Soft groans coming from you as you slowly stretch your arms out. As you were in hope you would be able to sleep in instead of being woken from the light. Your cat decides to jump on your lap in hopes you lay back down. Surprised as your cat was not meowing at you for food this early. As you were petting your cat, you notice a message from Tech. Not shocked that he would be awake this early. He was probably awake this early doing work like always.

“Good Morning. Do you wish to accompany me on a leisurely tour of the aquatic exhibits at our local aquarium? We can discuss more about our contract.”

You could feel your heart racing reading his message. Tech was inviting you to the aquarium. The local aquarium was such a genuine nice place to go. It was not too crowded, but it did have its peak times. All that mattered was you were going to the aquarium to see beautiful aquatic fish. What made it even more better you were going with him. You quickly reply to his message.

“That sounds great to me.” Hitting send you quickly get up to get ready. Your cat following right behind you as you rush to the bathroom .

Once you finished getting ready. You pour some food and water for your cat. Smiling at how your cat quickly eats. Phone buzzing in your hand as you already knew Tech would be outside waiting fr you. Saying bye to your cat you grab your jacket and head outside.

Tech looks up from his phone as he sees you walking down to his car. He hurries to open the car door for you.

“Aren’t you such a gentlemen”

A sly smile appears on his face as he closes the car door and walks over to the drivers seat. Tech explains to you the plans he has once you both get to the aquarium. Not a single word was coming from you as you were a bit distracted. Watching him drive was attractive. His knuckles gripping the steering wheel as his soft brown eyes were focused on the road. Staring at techs tan lips moving slowly as your eyes are glued to his lips. Wondering how his soft tan lips would feel pushed upon yours. Your hand touches your plump lips. He looks over at you wondering why weren’t responding to him.

“Is everything alright?” Tech ask he looks over at you then back on the road.

His words making you come back to reality. Every time you got lost it was as if you were in cloud nine. Just being near him brought this warm comfort and you weren’t sure why.

“Oh yes uhh. I just got distracted for a minute.” You say in hopes he didnt see you staring at him. Tech side eyes you then focuses back on the road.

“Very well then.Did you hear everything I said?”

Your eyes widen as you weren’t really listening to what he said.

“Uhhhh yeah of course I heard everything.” You casually try to lie putting a piece of your hair behind your ear.

“Okay then. Im assuming you heard the part where we both will participate in feeding the sharks?” Tech says with a little smirk as he staring at the road.

“Wait what? Feeding sharks?” A bit worried if he was being serious.

Tech laughs quietly under his breath. Feeling a bit amused as he knew you weren’t listening. “Yes, we will be feeding sharks together.”

You hear his laugh under his breath. Rolling your eyes as you knew he was joking. “Fine, if we really are feeding sharks together then you owe me a plushie for my bravery.”

Tech smiles, amused by your request. “Hm, very well then. I will make sure to provide you with the desired plushie as promised.”

“We’re not actually feeding the sharks right?”

Tech pulls into the parking lot. He chuckles softly amused by your reaction. “Do not worry, we will be safely observing the sharks from a far distance.”

You nod your head as you grab your phone putting it do not disturb. “So, what was actually running through your mind?” Tech ask as he makes sure he’s parked correctly.

“Oh just thought of something from work. same old thoughts.” You say quickly in hopes he buys this. As he’s finished parking he nods his head understanding. Letting out a soft sigh as he didnt ask no more questions.

Grabbing your purse as you both walk over to the aquarium. Tech goes to the booth to buy tickets. Taking a look around noticing there was a line waiting for others to get inside. Tech puts his hand on your back as he guides you both to skip the line. His soft hand placed on your back made you feel a bit eased from the crowd.

“I purchased these tickets in advance to expedite our entry into the aquarium. I just had to inform the worker. These tickets will gives us exclusive access to certain exhibits.”

“Wow Im excited to see. It’s been a while since I came here.” A bit impressed at tech going out of his way to get exclusive access for the both of you. Techs hand still on your back as you both head over to the exhibits.

The aquarium is a large, open building with high domed ceiling.Soft blue lights illuminated in the area where you both. The soft blue lighting making it feel as if you’re in the ocean. A large exhibit of colorful fish swim in circles. The air is cool and smells lightly of the ocean salt. You look at tech who is reading information that is located on the side of the tank.

“I am a scanning information about these species. The fish are primarily considered a schooling species. They tend to travel in large groups, both for protection and to optimize feeding efficient. They primarily feed in small algae and plankton. The bright colors of these fish are an adaptation that serves to camouflage them within their natural habitat amongst corals and rocks.”

You chuckle a bit at his info dumping. That was bonus about being in a fake relationship with him.It was exciting having the company of someone who values on learning.Tech notices he still has his hand on your back. Debating to take his hand off, but leaves as it is.

“That’s good to know. I didnt know they ate plankton.” Tech smiles as he knew you were listening. Both of you continue walking admiring different fish in the exhibits. A fish catches your eye in one of the exhibits. It was a long fish that was hidden under the sand.It was flat and a brownish color.

“What kind of fish is this Tech?” You say looking up at him. Tech reads the information provided on the plaque. “These fish are known as flounders. They are known for their ability to camouflage themselves. Notice their body is typically brown or grey color that resembles the ocean floor, while the underside is pure white. These species feed on small fish and crustaceans.” He looks at you as he explains.

You nod your head listening to him explain. A little kid runs and bumps into you. Which makes you push into techs arms a bit more. His hand on your back tightens around your waist making sure you don’t fall. Your hand on his chest as you both make eye contact. The parents apologize to you as they run chasing their kid. You chuckle a bit moving a bit away from him. Tech eyes go back on the exhibit in front of him and drops his hand from your back. Your attention going on the fish swimming. Your smile drops as you miss his touch on your back.

“Are you alright? He asks, a hint of worry in his voice. His expression is calm.

“Im alright Tech. Now let’s go see the jellyfish.” You say, grabbing his hand to walk over to the jellyfish exhibit. A faint smile, he intertwines his fingers with yours as you proceed to the jellyfish exhibit. Once arrived, beating the crowd as its just you both standing in front of the tank. The mesmerizing Black Sea nettle jellyfish. The translucent, bell shaped body hangs delicately below a mass of tentacles, which billow out like translucent curtains when they move. The color of the jellyfish has a distinctive purplish bell to it.Tech gazes intently at the jellyfish, observing their graceful movements. His brown eyes lighten up as he’s memorized.

“Jellyfish are one of my favorite sea creatures. Especially as beautiful as these.” Your eyes not leaving the tank as the jellyfish move around. Two hands intertwined the soft vibrant blue lighting in the darken room. His soft warm vibrant hand in touch with your hand. Creating two main warmth feelings in the chest. Your heart beats faster,but at a rate where you can feel the butterflies.

“They are fascinating creatures.” Tech speaks softly as his attention turns to you. A sly smile appears as he sees your eyes glued on the tank. His gaze on you as he feels a soft warm feeling in his chest. Turning your head towards him to see him staring at you.

“Did you know Black Sea nettle jellyfish stings are not nearly as painful as other jellyfish stings.” Your voice is soft with a little crack at the end. Tech looks at you impressed.

“That’s correct. I am impressed.” He pushes his glasses back. His hand not letting go as he enjoys the comfort of your hand. A sly smile as you admire the two purple fish swimming in circles in front of you both.

“We should get going to the main exhibition and discuss further about meeting my family.” Tech grabs your hand and walks with you to the main event

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starqueensthings · 1 year ago

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Dork Love: Part Four

chap1 | chap2 | chap3

Pairing: Tech x GN!reader (can be read as ND!Tech x ND!GN!reader if you squint)

Summary: never thought I'd see the day, but here is the final part of Dork Love! Things happen, questions are answered. I won’t say any more for fear of spoiling things. Make sure you’ve read the previous three parts before proceeding.

Rating/WC/POV: Teen+ readers, but no real warnings. 7847 words (I hate myself too, don’t worry). 2nd POV but from Tech’s perspective.

A/N: thank you to the always lovely @staycalmandhugaclone for proofreading, and for reminding me that unstiflable, as much as I’d like it to be a word, is not LOL like “so fetch” it just ain’t gonna happen!

That autonomic demand to narrow his eyes was irrepressible, and the onslaught of light pouring in through the open door dazzled him to near paralysis as he stood in the shadows, pistol raised and poised to fire blindly if or when the situation required. But even through long lashes near-opacifying his vision, Tech’s astute mind instantly noted the familiar, swaying cadence of the figure stepping through the threshold, its movements much less hurried and frenetic than his sergeant’s broad-shouldered, deliberate strides would have been as he hastened to provide backup. In that subsequent second, as Tech’s eyes screamed in protest and the alleged assailant stepped delicately atop that worn wood floor, a cresting wave of unadulterated relief and realization crashed into his heaving chest and forced the bated breath from his lungs.

“Thank the Maker,” he exclaimed as he attempted to swallow the panic that had taken up residence in the back of his throat.

His feet took him urgently toward you, stowing his pistol in it’s holster with a deftness that his trembling hands should not have possessed, and the now-redundant flashlight fell with a thud to the floor, spinning away to uselessly brighten a forgotten corner as he closed the space between you and flung his arms around your shoulders.

The startled gasp that escaped your lips at the unexpected movement went ignored. He spared no consideration for the way your arms balked against the restriction of his unexpected embrace; your choked and stuttered demands for distance and clarification registered even less in his mind than your obvious sense of alarm. He would explain after… He’d offer a million apologies in just a minute… What mattered most to him in this second was that you were safe— you were there in front of him unailed, injury free and not bludgeoned to death by the bloodied hammer still imprinted in his mind's eye.

“T— Tech?!” you stammered, the futile attempts at tugging your arms free creating barely enough leverage to tip your head back and peer upward at your captor. “Is that you? What— what are you doing here?”

“You are alive,” he spoke, seizing the brief opportunity that your acknowledgement presented and retightening his grip around your shoulders.

“Of— of course I am?” you answered, the snort of incredulity almost completely muffled by the power of his embrace as you slowly reciprocated his affection by encircling his narrow waist. “How did you get in here?”

But your behest for an explanation once again failed to pull even a fragment of reasoning from his lips, that brilliant mind utterly failing in its feat to process the emotional undulation of your perceived murder, and he hung his head silently into the gap above your shoulder, greedily breathing in the same scent he’d spent countless mornings trying to imagine were in the bunk next to him.

“This doesn’t look like any ‘perilous and life-threatening event’ that I’ve ever been a part of.”

Hunter’s amusement, while somewhat muffled by the modulator in his helmet, was entirely apparent in the small chuckle that followed his quip. Tech snapped his head toward the door, the intrusion he’d utterly forgotten was on its way taking quick advantage of the adrenaline still doping his blood and setting every inch of his akin aprickle. Yet… having your form pressed against his in that quiet moment of long-anticipated reacquaintance had embedded him with a need for you equally as powerful, and releasing you from his clutches felt oddly like he was willingly permitting a limb to depart his body.

“Who— who are you?” you voiced as you turned toward the door, shielding your eyes with the same hand that had last been the recipient of Tech’s converged affection.

“Hunter,” the sergeant chirruped, boots treading thoughtlessly atop that trail of morbid, red breadcrumbs as he crossed the room and extended a hand. “Glad to see you’re not dead.”

“Why would I be dead?” you asked as you shook his hand, a very potent confusion still swaddling every word that left those lips.

“Good question,” Hunter chuckled, tipping his head forward slightly to pull that painted plastoid bucket from his head. “Can’t say I have an answer. Tech was losing his marbles about a limp fickle tree or someth—?”

“Ficus,” Tech interrupted, feeling a fresh surge of embarrassment rise to his already heated cheeks. Those frenzied emotions… the atypical and unbridled panic from mere minutes ago was being quickly usurped by a coursing regret for the composure he’d altogether abandoned the minute your safety was in question.

He cleared his throat and shifted his goggles on his nose, shying away from your inquiring gaze as it returned to him. “My apologies for the infiltration,” he continued, readjusting his helmet needlessly under his arm. “My brother and I returned with every intention of completing the required electrical repairs, only to find the premises looking uncharacteristically derelict. Regrettably, I had no means of contacting you, so I permitted myself entry hoping to affirm your safety, or collect clues to identify the assailant.”

He chanced a glance in your direction; the way your wide eyes darted intently yet curiously back and forth between his instantly threatened to steal the justification still poised on his tongue, and watching your lip disappear between your teeth saw the battle against that implacable itch to reach for your hand vigorously resurrected.

“There was undeniable evidence that harm may have come to you,” he offered, reaching instead for his datapad and tipping the screen toward you. “My scanners indicated blood of a human origin splattered in several places, with a significant percentage of it congealing atop the handle of a hammer still perched in the sink. Objectively, all access points to the establishment appeared to have been boarded to prevent any external supposition, eliminating any obvious need for an investigation. Your beloved flora was presenting with several signs of neglect, and I noted a discarded caf beside the computer that my scanners confirm has been sitting undisturbed for nearly two dozen rotations.”

“Ew, what?!” you exclaimed as your expression shifted abruptly from concern to disgust, nose scrunching as you peered over your shoulder toward the counter.

“Is that what that smell is?” Hunter queried under his breath, his throat bobbing heavily as if trying to steel himself against the cresting heave in his stomach.

But the notion of the abandoned dish and its putrid contents didn’t befuddle you as it had Tech, instead he watched your eyes soften and roll before an incredulous scoff huffed from your nose.

“Figures,” you groused with a small shake of the head. “He has the wherewithal to put a bloody hammer in the sink but not the dirty mug.”

Tech paused, your grumbled words failing to establish even a scrap of sound reasoning in his already overladen mind, and the slight cock in Hunter’s brow as he turned to glance inquisitively at his brother clearly indicated he was equally as confused by your insufficiently explanatory grievance.

“Who’s ‘he’?” the sergeant asked on their behalf.

“My father,” you answered with another disgruntled roll of the eyes. “I asked him to come here and seal the place up for me.”

“Your father left this carnage?” Tech posed, unable to keep the bewilderment from his voice. “How peculiar.”

“But… why?” Hunter added.

“It’s a long story,” you replied, failing to conceal a large yawn with the back of one hand as the other stretched high above your head. “And I’ll happily tell you the whole thing once I get some caf in me. Give me a few minutes to turn the power back on and then we can catch up.”

The first twinge of an adoring smile tugged at Tech’s lips as he watched you first heave a preparatory sigh before squaring your shoulders and reaching for the handle of that soiled mug. With your nose pinched tightly between your fingers, and your cheeks expanded to their full capacity under the strain of a held breath, you carried the dish at arms length and retreated to the back door. Tech watched you go without even really seeing you… eyes unfocussed, mind spinning tirelessly. It seemed wholly impossible that attempting to ascertain his feelings for you during their trek along that sunlit pathway had rendered him so uneasy that he nearly faceplanted; then mere seconds later, he’d hurled headfirst into a panic so foreign and inexplicable that even Hunter, his most astute brother and the person who likely understood him most in this galaxy, had difficulty navigating Tech’s discombobulated fears. Now here he stood, the ravaging tornado of emotions spanning the last half an hour, only a thing of the past. His mind, instead, brimming with nothing but absolute certainty of his affection for you, and it wasn’t until (“...oof!”) you tripped over the long-abandoned spools of wire and nearly slooped that rancid liquid all over the floor, that a distant glimmer of reality returned to him, and he hastened to retrieve the discarded flashlight and hand it over to you.

“Was that a hug I just saw?” Hunter jeered, knocking his fist against the dome of Tech’s shoulder the second your figure vanished into the enshadowed hallway.

The genius soldier did not answer, offering his brother a mildly embarrassed, reproachful glance before shifting his attention to the device in his hands.

“You know Tech,” the sergeant persisted, keeping his voice tactfully low. “You’ve pulled some really impressive tricks out of your arsenal over the years, but I don’t think I’ve ever been more impressed by you than I am now.”

Tech let his brother's indirect praise wash over him, turning his response over in his mind several times. “It is most peculiar,” he uttered quietly to the screen as the lights flickered into life overhead, “That simply the notion of this companionship can trigger such dichotomous sentiments.”

“What do you mean?” Hunter queried as he stepped toward the front door and pushed it closed.

“Well… it seems implausible that one individual could initiate both anxiety and comfort in another, as they are contradictory emotional responses that otherwise do not theoretically coincide.” Tech kept his eyes pointedly downward to the illuminated device in his hands as he spoke. “How is it that my fear for the safety of another is rendered so paramount, that the notion of having lost said person clouds the judgement in which I hold in such high regard, particularly so when the person in question is one of whom I hardly know? Yet, the moment I deem their safety established, I am overcome with a protective urge so robust that I would unquestioningly forfeit the use of my limbs if encircling them promised a shield from any potential harm?”

The momentary silence that ensued post-confession was undoubtedly amplified by the recent extermination of fracas from the outside world, yet nothing reverberated louder amongst the walls of that dusty shop than the proud pause that proceeded Hunter’s answer, the smile doming his inked cheek as he stepped back toward his brother entirely missed by the genius still staring deliberately downward.

“I don’t know,” the sergeant answered slowly, placing a discerning hand on the top of Tech’s shoulder. “Feelings are powerful things… I guess we don’t give ‘em enough credit.”

“Indeed,” Tech agreed as he finally lifted his gaze, eyes flashing as he peered at the space where you were due to appear at any moment…

“Hunter?” he added quietly as a thoughtful silence reemerged.

“Yeah, ‘vod?”

“I do not think I will ever tire of this ‘feeling’.”

Hunter’s response was stolen off his tongue by the squeak of old hinges as you pried that back door open with the toe of your shoe, reappearing moments later in the doorway with a green mug held carefully in one hand and a clear glass of water in the other; the way your lips pursed and hitched to one side as you focussed on maneuvering toward the counter without spilling either liquid, rearousing the tingle under Tech’s skin.

“What’d’ya say we pull these boards down?” Hunter spoke loudly, clapping his brother on the arm before turning to face the obstructed windows.

“That would be fantastic,” you said, carefully depositing your steaming mug beside the computer. “I’m handy enough in my own right, but I don’t trust myself not to pull a ‘Dad’ and take a finger off trying to get them down.”

“It’s not a problem,” Hunter answered, dismissing your comment with a wave of his hand as he crossed the room and debated which of the wood panels to dismantle first. “Tech, let's start with the one on the right—”

But Tech heard none of his summons, too enraptured with the charming crease between your brows as your concentration shifted toward your drooping plants, hands lovingly tipping that glass of water into the clay pot housing your limp, little tree.

“—and then we’ll just go along the front and rip 'em down one by one. We can stack them in the corner out of the way for now. Ready? Tech…? Tech.”

“Coming.” Tech wrenched his gaze from you and hurried to meet his brother next to the furthest of the boarded windows.

“I’m a little alarmed at how easily you broke in,” you admitted with a smirk as the duo trod past the counter moments later, carrying the first the half-dozen bulky boards between them.

“It was quite simple,” Tech offered, lowering his end of the board to the dusty floor in the corner and keeping it stable while Hunter tipped it against the wall. “With the correct tool and the appropriate leverage, one can deactivate such an unsophisticated deadbolt system with relative ease. If the security of your store is of utmost concern to you, I would recommend installing a mechanical upgrade; one that permits only those who carry an individually coded microchip to ent—”

“What’s with the boards anyway?” Hunter interrupted, leading his rambling brother back toward the windows.

“I, uh… I was on Ryloth.”

The soldiers froze, hands stalling in their feat of tugging the next of the boards down while they exchanged fleeting, dark looks. “Ryloth?” Hunter repeated. “In the middle of a war? Hmm… that’s kinda—”

“Kinda risky. I know,” you agreed, looking somewhat crestfallen as you perched your chin in your palm and gazed listlessly out the now transparent window. “In my defense, the war hadn’t really reached Ryloth when I bought my ticket. Though, admittedly, I would have gone anyway with the situation being so dire. Those poor kids… Maker, I feel for them. And it’s only going to get worse as access to medical supplies gets increasingly challenging…”

Hunter looked back at Tech and raised his eyebrows, confusion etched into every superficial line of that tattooed face as he readjusted his grip around the edge of the wood panel and tugged it free of its shoddy adhesion.

“Are you being intentionally vague?” Tech voiced innocently while shifting his goggles on his nose. “Or have I simply overlooked a myriad of implied details?”

“No,” you snorted, glancing at him with an unexpected affection and igniting a blush to his cheeks potent enough to force his gaze away from you again. “Sorry, I’ll backtrack a little…” As you picked your head out of your palm and perched yourself, instead, in the desk chair behind the computer, Tech reached for his end of the nearest board and gave it an assertive tug. “About a month or so ago, an impoverished family came in here looking for some help. There were these three kids– cute as a button, but losing their eyesight pretty rapidly. Their mom has a degenerative visual disease that the kids ended up unknowingly inheriting, and Dad was at-a-loss for what to do. There’s no cure for the condition itself, but I told them I’d make some glasses for them that would help preserve the vision they had left. I tried to expedite the process as much as possible, but they fled the planet before I could finish.”

“They wouldn’t stick around for free glasses?” Hunter asked incredulously, eyes attuned to the floor below him as he walked carefully backward to the corner where they’d stashed the first panel.

“Their situation was pretty destitute,” you answered sadly. “Anyway… once their glasses were done, the only option left was to hand deliver them, as I don’t particularly trust inter-stellar couriers anymore with all the rampant piracy these days, and… well, part of me has always wanted to do some missionary work. Unfortunately, it was barely an hour after my shoes hit the sand outside of Lessu that the blockade was implemented, and all public transports were barred from entering or leaving the system. So I—”

“You’ve been trapped on Ryloth!” Hunter groaned. “For weeks!”

“That explains the fetid caf,” Tech chimed.

“Please don’t take this as a complaint,” you continued quickly. “Being on Ryloth and living with that family was an unforgettable experience, and one of which I would never have been granted the opportunity, but… I was more than a little worried about this place; this level of the Undercity is notorious for petty theft and pickpockets thanks to its proximity to the lifts, and the affluent clientele that trickles in from the surface one level above. A few days after I landed, I managed to get a transmission back to my Dad and asked if he’d come and secure the store until I could figure out how to get back, but… I think I might have drastically overestimated his handyman skills. He admitted to me afterward that a poorly-aimed hammer strike had done some damage to both his left thumb and my floor. He conveniently didn’t mention he was growing a mold farm in my favourite mug.”

“Any substantial trauma to the thumb could prove detrimental,” Tech spoke up, tipping the second board on top of the first. “The thumb houses several primary vascular bodies including the Princeps Pollicis, a major artery branching from the deep palmar arch. If the artery itself has sustained enough significant external force to cause a secondary dermal laceration, it has the potential to elicit substantial blood loss, not to mention warrant a possible surgical repairment.”

“And that explains the mess,” Hunter agreed, pointing toward the puniceous trail still adorning the floor beneath their feet.

“Mess is an understatement now that I’m looking at it,” you chuckled. “I’m still not sure if I want to thank him for helping me or invoice him for all the cleaning I’m going to have to do before I can reopen this place.”

***

It took just shy of an hour to remove and rehome the barriers your father had inexpertly installed, and the welcome addition of the dazzling sunlight through the now-unobstructed (albeit dusty) windows had the store feeling nearly exactly as Tech remembered. As he and his brother trod back toward the counter, dabbing droplets of sweat from their brow with the backs of their hands, the Ficus Elastica on the counter stood proudly erect in, what appeared to be, its own personal ray of sunlight.

“Thank you so much,” you sang as they approached, the grin atop your lips challenging that bright celestial body in the sky for its title as the most radiant entity in the galaxy.

“Not a problem,” Hunter answered as you hopped out of the chair and walked around the counter to meet them. “If the panels are still here the next time we’re planetside, I’ll get Wrecker to come rip up 'em and throw ‘em out back for you.”

“That’d be great,” you nodded eagerly. “He’s the only one I haven’t met yet.”

“Actually speaking of…” he continued, “I should check in and make sure Crosshair hasn’t lost his temper and used him for target practice. Gimme a second and then we can start the wirin–”

“I can manage.”

His interjection was abrupt, slipping off his tongue nowhere-near as passively or nonchalant as he’d intended when Tech opened his mouth to reassure his sergeant, and the responding look on Hunter’s face readily confirmed that Tech had also failed to conceal that burgeoning need to be alone with you. But he was fighting a losing battle; the trio stood only inches from where he’d first wrapped his arms around you. Despite continuing to dodge each other’s bashful glances, the near-irresistable urge to grab your hand and wreath you with his arms hadn’t left him since releasing you, and he was more determined than ever to swallow that ever-plaguing apprehension and physically communicate how much you’d been on his mind since your last encounter.

“I am capable of completing the installation without assistance,” he added politely. “And Crosshair was particularly irascible this morning despite having acceded to his demand that I park the ship in an area of complete shadow, so the need for a supervisory presence is likely heightened.”

“Shadow?” you interrupted questioningly from Tech’s elbow. “What does he have against daylight?”

“Hurts his eyes in the morning,” Hunter answered offhandedly. “You sure, Tech? We lost time with the whole ‘possible-murder’ thing. Think you can tackle it alone?”

“I will not be alone.” He glanced fleetingly in your direction before swallowing.

Hunter hmph’d quietly, mimicking his brother and glancing your way as his lips twitched against the impish smirk he continued to stifle. “Well alright then,” he conceded, returning his brother's mildly guilty look with a rather knowing one of his own. “I'll leave you two to get… reacquainted. Just don’t abandon your comm again; there are no ‘unscheduled breaks’ from war no matter what you say.”

“Thank you for the help,” you said, extending a hand toward the retreating sergeant. “And for making sure I’m not dead.”

Hunter offered you a smile and a respectful nod before his face disappeared behind that painted plastoid again, and he made his way toward the front door. Distant, yet raucous laughter filled the shop as he pulled the door open and stepped over the threshold.

“Oh… and don’t forget, Tech,” he added, the visor of his helmet poking back around the door unexpectedly. “We’re leaving for Felucia at first light tomorrow. Midnight curfew.”

***

As you locked the door behind the departing sergeant, Tech stooped and collected the coiled wires from the floor, tossing them over his shoulder before following in your wake toward the sanctity of your workshop. Despite your established safety, he couldn't prevent his eyes darting toward that large aluminum basin as the kitchenette passed on the left, the tool that had so-instantly horrified him now scrubbed clean and leaning benignly against the side of the caf maker to dry. The moldy mug, however, was nowhere to be found, though the peculiar addition of a small, tightly tied garbage bag sitting on the floor by the fire exit had Tech near-certain he’d never see that red ceramic again.

“I’m sorry I scared you,” you offered as you veered right into the fabrication lab, the slight chuckle beneath your words recapturing Tech’s attention. “It seems that’s a habit I’ve unintentionally fallen into. First I gave you a heart attack about your goggles… then this. I’m regularly quite the bore, I promise.”

Tech bit back the retort on his tongue as he stepped through the doorway— you, a bore? Well that seemed even less likely than Crosshair dropping to his knees and begging them to forgive his abhorrent attitude.

“An apology is not required,” Tech spoke instead. “It would appear that I jumped to an inaccurate conclusion upon arriving here to find you missing. It was a most uncharacteristic overreaction, and one from which I now-suffer a great compunction.”

“Compunction?” you repeated, brows furrowing at the implications of his confession as you reached gently upward and began to lift those heavy coils from his shoulder. “Why?”

Tech hesitated for only a breath, watching your nimble fingers blanch under the weight of the wire as you took it from him. “Well… several years of advanced training and exposure therapy have rendered me effectively inured to a multitude of scenarios that others may deem distressing,” he divulged as something near concern wiped the smile from your lips. “Yet, I failed to maintain control of my emotions in the face of your disappearance. I became largely inexorable, making objectively impetuous and questionable decisions.”

“Tech,” you uttered in little more than a consoling whisper, his stomach lurching as your free hand collected his from somewhere near his hip, those slightly chilled fingers weaving their way in between his before the soft, consoling brush of your thumb nearly weakened his knees. “There is nothing to regret. Worrying about someone is nothing to be ashamed of, and arguably even less so if that person is someone you care greatly about. In fact, an initial surge of panic followed by attempts to verify their safety is likely the expected psychological response to such concerns. You walked into what looked like a very foreboding situation and had no data to disprove your suspected theory.”

“I suppose that is correct,” Tech shrugged, dropping his gaze to the toe of his oily boot, “Though it has been several years since I last studied the sympathetic subsection of the autonomic nervous system in response to traumatic stimuli.”

“Sounds like an interesting read,” you mumbled through a sarcastic smile that prompted the return of his gaze. “Tell me– if the same situation presented itself again, would you not react similarly? Would you not do everything within your power to make sure that someone was okay while everything around you was telling you they’re not?”

“Of course I would.”

“Then that’s that,” you answered simply. “There’s no reason to regret your actions, just like I don't suffer any contempt for getting myself stuck on Ryloth. Making the trip there was the best and potentially only solution based on the information available to me at the time. Things went awry… and that’s okay, because we should always do what our gut is telling us to do when it comes to things and people that we care greatly about.”

And there it was: that intemerate benevolence that he wholly adored about you, reemerging to knock him over the head with a validation that he’d never experienced before… and the subsequent moment, as his eyes locked on yours and his grip on your hand tightened, he felt truly seen as himself. Not Tech the highly-skilled soldier… not Tech the ingenious mechanic responsible for keeping the GAR’s most elite squad in the air… not Tech the pilot who loved his datapad above all else and never slept. You saw Tech… accepting and welcoming him as he is; validating his infrequent displays of vulnerability as if humanity was something he could and should experience first hand without fear of persecution or judgement.

“Oh, and don’t think I didn’t catch that,” you added, brow shifting into a devious arch as a playful smirk tugged at your lips.

“Catch what, exactly?”

“The oxymoron you dropped in there: ‘found you missing’. Someone can’t be found and missing, hun. But keep dropping them– I’ll catch ‘em every time.”

Was it that teasing smile, or the enamoring, little puffs of air that escaped your nose as you snickered in the wake of your own coy intelligence? Or could it be the way your gaze kept darting from his eyes to his lips, that had him feeling as if he were suddenly hovering? The ground had, at some point, simply disappeared from below those smeared and blackened boots– vanishing into nothingness with everything else that had previously encircled them underneath those dim, humming lights. There was simply nothing but your hand interlaced with his. Nothing but the soft flutter of your eyelashes as they danced with every subtle shift in your gaze, and the unobtrusive quiet of an empty building that promised no foreseeable interruption. Every unhurried second ticked into the past by the chrono on the wall saw him pulled toward you by a force presented to him only once previously– when he’d boldly adorned the back of your hand with the same gesture that he longed to press to your smiling lips.

But… did you want that? Was your heart also hammering heavily in your chest, threatening to send the room spinning more than it already was? Were you as captivated with his eyes as he was with yours, letting that effulgent twinkle dazzle him like the radiance of hyperspace did? Had the last month also seen you seeking out moments of solitude, keen to forgo the mundanity of the present in favour of vanishing into the memory of him? The memory of an utterly ineffable connection?

Or were you standing there watching his eyes flutter closed, wondering what in Maker’s name you’d done in your past life to warrant having to endure such an awkward encounter? Was your mind frantically trying to find the words to politely reject his bold advance? Were you desperate to yank your hand from the clutches of his clammy gloves, and assert that he simply complete the required electrical repairs and then vanish indefinitely?

That sabotaging little flitter of doubt was enough to have Tech leaning backward, eyes opening to their full extent and quickly darting toward his boots while he reached for his goggles and shifted them needly atop his nose.

“Tech?” you whispered as he pulled his hand from yours, stowing his gauntlet comm in the pouch at his thigh before tugging at his gloves.

“I should initiate the electrical deconstruction,” he muttered as his face burned, pulling his datapad from its holster and bringing it to mere inches from his nose. “Can you please deposit those coils in the corner underneath the panel?”

“Sure.”

The sigh that preceded your curt answer was near deafening, circling around that quiet room what seemed to be half a dozen times before it dissipated into the now suffocating quiet. And while that soft huff of exasperation had near-tortured him, it was the unbridled disconcertment wholly engulfing your reply that stole his attention back from his device, and he watched with a sense of suppressed horror as your face fell rapidly into, what looked to him, an expression of dispirited chagrin.

***

Tech spent the next several hours near-furious at himself. Thoroughly incensed that his body never failed to repeatedly fall into the encompassing urge to physically connect with you whilst his mind remained downright incapable of elucidating the veracity of his perception, and infiltrating every modicum of that surging desire was an equally powerful right-hook of uncertainty.

Chiefly infuriating was your continued, unwavering kindness; he could barely stomach the ever-gracious way you offered to help him at regular intervals. Truthfully, he’d like nothing more than to have you hovering at his elbow for the entirety of the process, handing him whatever tool was required to progress the installation and witnessing him do what he truly did best while he chattered endlessly about the importance of matching the electrical capacity of the wire to its respective fuse. Yet, every time his eyes met yours, he was harrowingly reminded of his close shave with humiliation; reminded of the sheer confusion he’d seen behind your eyes as he pulled away from you, and your persisting geniality had him nearly-suspicious it was nothing more than a front upheld until the work was complete.

For the sake of niceties, and as a measly effort to atone for his self-proclaimed embarrassing behaviour, he accepted the glass of water you’d offered him shortly after he began the labour-intensive work, though despite the layer of dust gathering in his throat with every inhale, it sat untouched on the counter beside the lens generator.

He took his frustration out on the task at hand, snipping wire casings with an unnecessary gusto and scowling anew with each new electrical breaker that he clicked into place, but it seemed no degree of mechanical tinkering could distract him from the resentment coursing through him. Even the addition of a small radio, churning out happy-go-lucky, intraplanetary hits every couple of minutes was no match for his morose mood.

“Tech?” he heard you probe from the doorway several hours later, as he stooped over the sink in the kitchen and began to scrub the grime from his hands.

“Mmm?” he answered, ignoring the prickle erupting on the back of his neck at the sound of his name leaving your lips. He felt you approach, listening to the muted scrapes of your shoes on the floor as you neared, casually leaning against the counter in his peripheral vision.

“My brain might still be on Ryloth time but… were– were you about to kiss me?”

His stomach plummeted to his toes, eyes quickly unfocussing on that aged and rusted drain, hands briefly hesitating in their attempts to rid his skin of the encrusted soot and grime that had accumulated over hours of working in the walls.

“Yes,” he admitted after a poignant swallow, and found himself watching the drain noisily consume the stained suds falling from his fingers, hoping the gurgling sound would be loud enough to drown your surely impending stammered apologies for the uncomfortable misunderstanding and your request that he leave and take his misguided feelings with him.

“Well why didn’t you?”

His head jerked somewhat awkwardly; he’d nearly snapped his gaze toward you, only to stop himself part way through as the sound of your stifled chuckle surprised him. Tech stilled upon realizing that laugh had not sounded chastising at all. Nor jeering or humiliating, nor repulsed or repugnant. It sounded almost… frustrated. Indignantly accusatory, as if you were mildly annoyed that he hadn’t kissed you.

He reached blindly for the towel folded on the counter adjacent the sink, lips pursing as he thoughtlessly ran that cloth between his fingers until his skin began to revolt against the continued abrasure.

“Tech?” you whispered, the delicate probe successful in only fleetingly drawing his gaze.

“My affection for you, while subjectively highly enjoyable, is paired with an exponential degree of uncertainty that I have never previously experienced,” Tech divulged to the fabric in his hands. “And there are recurrent moments when, despite all other variables suggesting otherwise, I suffer an inherent doubt that you would ever reciprocate my feelings. You are well educated and even better mannered… meticulous with the quality of your work… exceedingly intelligent… your compassion for others and your willingness to assist them, even where the circumstance would deem reciprocity impossible, is truly unrivaled by any person I have ever met and… and…” He paused to regain control of his words as they spilled uncontrollably from mind to mouth.

“Tech, hun,” you cooed through the ghost of another exasperated laugh. “You are all of those things too. You have no vested interest in this shop yet here you are, laying on your back in the dust, doing several days worth of electrical work so this place can function at peak productivity and make my life easier. You graciously donated several hours of your time last month to help me plough through the mountain of work that had been looming over me for days. You broke in here ready to hunt down and assault whomever it was that had allegedly harmed me without even a thought for yourself. Despite having malignantly convinced yourself that you lack emotional intelligence, you have a truly exceptional mind. You are uncommonly and refreshingly polite, and you have the most beautiful eyes I’ve ever seen, which is saying something because I’ve seen a lot of eyes. I– I’m kinda crazy about you, too.”

A truly exceptional mind? Refreshingly polite? Did you believe all of this to be true? He searched every inch of your face for any signs of insincerity, any fragments of dishonesty, any twitch of the lip that might disenchant the gratification coursing through his veins from your admonishment.

“Well,” he continued, attempting to keep his tone neutral as the realization that he’d likely blown his chance with you threatened to kick his heart clean out of his chest. “With any luck, another moment shall present itself where I may demonstrate how much you undoubtedly mean to me.”

He jammed his finger needlessly against the bridge of his goggles, dejected gaze dropping back to boots now dirtier than ever while a quiet, albeit forlorn sigh left his lips and he resumed inattentively fiddling with the little towel.

“Well,” you mimicked. “Since, the ‘ideaology of luck’ is, apparently, illogical… allow me.”

He must have stumbled over his toes in the subsequent second, though the most he’d ever be able to offer was a deduction based on the force you’d used to tug him toward you. In the reality of that moment, your perfect response to the divulgence of his feelings and the unexpected affirmation that you, too, felt similarly, had instantly rendered him euphorically ignorant to anything other than the feeling of finally having your lips against his.

That damp little towel somehow ended up displaced and draped atop the caf machine, but exactly how and when it had left his hands was a mystery that did not need solving. There was simply nothing else worthy of consideration or acknowledgement in that moment; nothing more important than the small drafts of warm air cascading across his cheek every time you shifted your lips atop his; nothing more prudent than the small yet mighty grip you maintained on the collar of his chest plate keeping him no more than a breath away from you. Somehow, you ended up perched on the counter next to that hammer, its existence now so inconsequential that it wasn’t even spared the courtesy of a glance as it fell over and landed with a thunk behind the caf machine. Tech didn’t even notice you blindly lift his goggles from his nose and rest them on his forehead, though the tender brush of your thumbs along the chronic indents on his cheeks sent shiver after shiver down his spine.

It wasn’t until your lips separated from his, and he was enveloped almost entirely with that same feeling of permitting a limb to depart his body that he returned to some semblance of awareness.

“Are you still uncertain?” you asked him with a smile that sat somewhere on the border of devious and playful.

“Darling,” Tech answered near-breathlessly, “The only notion unclear to me at this point, is how I will survive until I can see you again.”

“Speaking of…” you sighed, gesturing to the small chrono embedded into the caf machine. “You should probably head out. It’s nearly midnight.”

Tech glanced at the old clock as it mocked him. 23:44 pm. Just enough time to collect his tools from their scattered displacement around the fabrication lab and depart the store. He’d be climbing the Marauder’s ramp within minutes… silently deposit his pack in the cockpit… settle down at the workstation to tinker with his current modification project and reminisce about his afternoon in your company. But… why? Surely if his squad members were already tucked into their bunks, or quietly preparing their weapons for deployment tomorrow, there would be no harm in staying here a little longer with you? “There are no unscheduled breaks from war, no matter what you say…” The sergeant had been referencing his previous alibi; the off-the-cuff excuse Tech had offered his brother after the previous, irresponsible mistake of letting his comm depart his person had ensured him unavailable and unreliable.

His jaw tensed under the audacity of what he was about to do.

“Please excuse me,” he requested of you politely, stealing a chaste peck of a kiss from your lips before stepping backward and extracting his gauntlet comm from the cargo pouch where he’d previously stored it for safekeeping.

“Hunter,” he spoke after activating that little blue light. “What time are we set to depart for Felucia?”

“0600…” his sergeant answered suspiciously. “But curf—”

“I will see you then.”

“Te—!”

Tech silenced his comm with the blind poke of a button and tossed it carelessly to the countertop where it came to rest next to the hammer, his hands instantly reaching to cradle your waist while he chased your kiss so eagerly that you nearly toppled backwards.

***

An hour. It took an hour to stop kissing long enough to resume talking, and then several hours after that to accept that neither of you were going to achieve any other productive tasks that night. Still wholly invigorated by your union, Tech declined your midnight offer for a caf, though with how the taste lingered on your tongue between sip and kiss, he may as well have drank a cup on his own.

At quarter-past two, you dragged him by the hand back toward the lens edger and lifted his goggles from his nose. You first giggled about how much he absentmindedly squinted in the void of his regular, average eyesight, before instantly launching into an educational titter about precisely why humans even developed that anatomical squint response, and how effective it can be at temporarily improving visual acuity. And while he longed to query every fact against one of which he’d researched on his own time, he’d found a new use for his lips that he much preferred.

Shortly after four, as you locked your hands around his waist and groaned into his chest about having to spend the next several days on your hands and knees, scrubbing the floor in preparation for the reopening of your store, Tech accidentally knocked over a bottle of effervescent blue liquid; the same concoction you’d used to disinfect his glasses previously, and a quick glance at the ingredients list while he collected the dripping container had him instantly yammering about how the peroxide additive would be the perfect solution for removing the embedded blood stains.

A short time later, an unseen gang of bad mouthed adolescents were heard hollering on the other side of the fire exit door, their voices amplified by the stillness of the night and the empowered notion that they were loitering where they were not permitted, and despite their inebriation posing no apparent threat while you remained behind a locked door, Tech still refused to let you leave the backroom until he could confirm their exodus.

At half-past five, an oversized yawn barely concealed by your hand reminded Tech that, despite wishing Father Time would simply abandon his post and gift him a moment with you free from that nagging and imminent deployment, his squad was waiting for him; his sergeant likely highly perturbed and waiting for the pilot’s next transparent excuse.

“How do the eyes feel now?” you asked over your shoulder as you walked ahead of him toward the front door, his pride-and-joy helmet bobbing near comically on your head as it concealed the smile that he could hear lay atop your lips.

“Much improved,” he answered, breathing in what he could before your companionship would be lost to him for another little while.

“Thought so!” you chuckled proudly, the modulator in his helmet distorting the music of your amusement. “Changing the refractive indices of a lens can sometimes initiate a bit of a hiccup in visual processing, especially when paired with changes in curvature and correct application of coatings, but the foreign sensation typically dissipates within a rotation or so.”

“May I remind you, you need not have gifted me new lenses.”

“I just supplied the material,” you argued, helmet wiggling again as you casually shrugged away the innocent condemnation in his tone. “You did all the work the last time you were here. They’ve been sitting here waiting for you to come back so I could put them in your goggles. Plus, yours were in… questionable… condition, and if your last set were any indication of Kaminoan knowledge of refraction, you’re much better off with these. How do you feel about the slight tint after wearing it for a few hours?”

Tech forced his gaze toward the window where the sky was undoubtedly beginning to lighten under the embrace of the sun's first morning rays. He, truthfully, hadn’t given that slight yellow tint any thought in some hours; what was initially found quite unusual had quickly morphed into something… “Quite calming,” he answered.

“There’s built-in blue light protection, too, for all the quality time you spend with that datapad. Give it a month or so, and your circadian rhythm will thank me.”

You stopped when you reached the front door and turned around to face him. Despite the exhaustion having swollen the tender skin beneath your eyes, there was no denying they were still alight and twinkling as they watched him approach. But Tech stopped shortly after you did, knowing that the nearer he reached the door, the nearer he’d be to leaving, and he wasn’t yet done processing the night's events. The budding sunrise on the other side of the glass was bringing with it an understanding he never knew he’d been deficient. So this… this is what he spent his days fighting for. Feelings like this. Companionships like ours. People like you who spent their time trying to better the lives of others without even a hint of motive. Someone who cared if he returned or not.

Tech sighed, very aware that finding the correct words to elucidate his feelings for you was simply a task for another time. For now, as the sun continued to betray him by rising ever higher with every lingering breath, he wanted every last second with you to be one completely void of thought.

“How many fingers am I holding up?” you probed suddenly, breaking into his torpor. He refocussed his gaze and found another of those playful smiles crinkling your eyes, palm raised to shoulder height and facing him.

He let only the ghost of scoff depart his nose as his lips lengthened under their own smile, and he resumed his approach, not stopping until the toes of his boots were nearly touching yours. As he reached upward and gently pulled his helmet from your head, a faint ache erupted in his chest, amplified by the quiet snicker that left you and the regretful reality of that sound being one he would not hear for the foreseeable future.

“Five,” he whispered after tucking his helmet under his arm, interlacing his gloved fingers with yours and holding tightly to your hand.

“Correct,” you breathed, eyes fluttering closed as he rested his forehead against yours. “If your next mission is counting fingers, you’ve got that in the bag.”

“Considering Felucia is widely known as the Planet of Fungal Forestry, I would deem that largely improbable. However–” he added, identifying the first flickers of fear behind your eyes, “–it is highly probable that I shall return by month’s-end.”

“If Cranky Crosshair doesn’t use you for target practice first?”

“Cranky Crosshair compares naught to Hunter when he’s truly angry. Hence why I must not be any later than I already am. Goodbye for now, darling.”

He stole one last, lingering kiss from your lips before reaching for the handle on that vibrant yellow door.

***

ragu list: @anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @nobody-expects-the-inquisitorius @starrylothcat @secondaryrealm @dystopicjumpsuit @freesia-writes @sev-on-kamino @littlemissmanga @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @wolffegirlsunite @sunshinesdaydream @clonemedickix @echoqk @drafthorsemath @jediknightjana @moonlightwarriorqueen @starstofillmydream @mooncommlink @multi-fan-dom-madness @wizardofrozz @trixie2023 @clonethirstingisreal @rabbitstu99 @lune-de-miel-au-paradis @mythical-illustrator

#bad batch fan fic #bad batch fanfic #bad batch Tech fanfic #tech x reader #tech x gn!reader #x reader #starqueenswrittenworks #starqueensedits #tech Tuesday

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ruenvs3000w25 · 3 months ago

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Unit 10 - Environmental Sustainability and My Personal Ethic as a Nature Interpreter

For the final blog post of the semester, and of my entire undergraduate journey, I find myself incredibly grateful for this thought-provoking and deeply important prompt. It has provided me with an opportunity to reflect not just on this course, but on my entire four-year experience in Wildlife Biology & Conservation, and on the path ahead in my future career.

The video featuring David Suzuki and Richard Louv at the Art Gallery of Ontario, discussing how to reconnect with nature, was especially impactful. It deepened my understanding of my own relationship with the natural world and provided valuable insights that helped me address the prompts for this blog.

youtube

My Personal Ethic as I Develop as a Nature Interpreter

In their discussion, David Suzuki and Richard Louv spoke extensively about the relationship between children and nature, emphasizing how it has changed over the years. Suzuki shared memories of finding solace and inspiration in what he described as a "magical" swamp near his childhood home in London, Ontario. That special place has since been replaced by a shopping mall. He posed a powerful question: “I just wonder about our children and where they find the kind of inspiration that I did when I was a boy.”

Louv, referencing his book The Nature Principle, stated, “The more high-tech our lives become, the more nature we need.” This resonates deeply in an era where parents are frequently criticized for allowing children too much screen time. But Louv challenges this criticism by asking, “Then they would do what?” Modern neighborhoods often lack natural spaces where children can safely explore, and an overblown fear of strangers, fueled by over-dramatized media coverage, has led to parents sheltering their kids more than ever. As a result, many children today are missing out on the unstructured outdoor experiences that previous generations took for granted.

This issue is personal for me. My parents often reminisce about spending entire days outdoors, playing and exploring freely with their friends, only returning home when the streetlights came on. In contrast, my own childhood was far more restricted. I was rarely allowed to venture down the street alone, even with a phone for safety.

Louv emphasizes that environmentalists must remain focused on their responsibility to future generations. Children are the future policymakers, leaders, and stewards of our planet. If they grow up disconnected from nature, we risk further diminishing the priority given to environmental conservation.

Should it be access to a backyard garden, a walk, a trip to the beach, we need to make more of an effort to get kids out of the house, out from behind their screens, and outside, where they can connect with nature. It's not only important for their own health, but also for the future of society.

This realization defines my personal ethic as a nature interpreter. I see it as my responsibility to bridge the growing gap between children and the natural world. My role will involve creating meaningful experiences that foster a deep appreciation for nature in young minds. Beyond that, I hope to inspire parents to reconnect with the environment as well. To remind them of their own childhood adventures in nature and encourage them to pass those experiences on to their children.

Once you have the privilege of truly experiencing nature, developing a passion for it comes naturally. Today, the real challenge come in carving out time in our busy lives to venture out and immerse ourselves in the beauty of the natural world. And I think that's where we, as nature interpreters, come in to help.

The Beliefs I Bring

At my core, my beliefs have always been deeply rooted in nature. As human beings, we are biological creatures, yet we have become largely disconnected from the natural world that once defined our existence. Our planet is facing an environmental crisis, with countless species at risk, and I firmly believe that conservation should be one of our highest priorities.

In today’s scary political state, where environmental concerns often take a back seat to economic and political agendas, it is more important than ever to remain firm in our commitment to conservation. As environmentalists, we must continue to advocate for the protection of our natural world and inspire others to do the same.

What Can I Do?

This summer, I am happy to say that I will be working as a Nature Interpreter at African Lion Safari. I will be working with the parrot department, not only caring for the birds, but also informing guests about some of the most endangered groups of birds.

The path forward requires education, engagement, and action. Through my work as a nature interpreter, I hope to instill a sense of wonder and responsibility in the next generation. By helping people form personal connections with nature, we can form a society that values and prioritizes environmental stewardship.

Looking back on my undergraduate journey, I feel an immense sense of purpose. The lessons I have learned, the experiences I have gained, and the values I hold close will guide me as I step into my future career. I am eager to contribute to conservation efforts, to educate and inspire, and to help shape a world where nature is not just an afterthought but a fundamental part of our lives.

As I conclude this final blog post, I carry with me the knowledge that reconnecting with nature is not just a personal journey but a collective responsibility. It is a responsibility I am ready to embrace, and one that I hope to share with others for years to come.

A big thank you to the professor of this course, Amanda Hooykaas. This course has allowed for so much reflection, realization, and lessons about how to connect others with nature, that I will surely take with me throughout my career.

I hope that reading these blog posts allowed for as much personal reflection as they did for me writing them.

I am eager to hear from my classmates: What was the biggest takeaway from this course?

References

African Lion Safari. (n.d.). Parrots. Retrieved on March 19, 2025 from https://lionsafari.com/programmes/parrots/

Suzuki, D., & Louv, R. (2012, July 20). David Suzuki and Richard Louv at AGO [Video]. YouTube. https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=F5DI1Ffdl6Y

#Youtube #nature interpretation #nature #david suzuki

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multi-fan-dom-madness · 2 years ago

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Midnight Masquerade - Tech

Chapter Summary: The bottle lands on Tech, who, despite not being dressed as a classic 'monster,' still shows you a monstrously good time. (badum-tss)

Chapter Warnings: 18+ minors go away; mad scientist!Tech x gn!reader; kinks: forced orgasms + erotic electrostimulation; discussion of consent and safewords, kind of dark!Tech but only a little, restraints, ball gag, aphrodisiac, vibrator use, overstimulation, pain-as-pleasure, unprotected penetrative sex (wrap it irl) (can be read as PiV or PiA), they actually use lube for once, aftercare, they kiss but only once; if I missed any please let me know!

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N: Happy Friday the 13th! 🔪 I refuse to apologize for this one. much appreciation to @sev-on-kamino for beta'ing this chapter <3

Read the intro here! | Suggested listening | Tech's costume inspo!

...Tech.

A round of wolf-whistles rises from the rest of the group (quite literally, in Hunter’s case). Across the table, Tech’s white, blood-splattered lab coat glows in a flash of ultraviolet lights; his swirling goggles gleam. You stare for a moment, transfixed by the way the blood illuminates in a deep, glowing blue, so dark it’s nearly black. The sight should give you pause, but instead, warmth pools low in your belly. Whatever scientist Tech is embodying, there is no doubt in your mind of how utterly dangerous—and yet how utterly capable—he is.

You stand. Tech rises from his seat as well, adjusts the collar of the coat, and runs one hand through his curls to smooth them. Despite the action, one stubborn curl falls onto his forehead.

“I hope you do not mind, ner cyar’ika,” Tech says as he approaches, “that I will be cataloging all physiological reactions and changes during this process.”

“I expected nothing less from you, Tech,” you say with a smile.

He simply nods. Waving at the rest of the table, you allow Tech to lead you through the crowd. The press of bodies doesn’t bother you; but nonetheless, you keep close to Tech. He uses his height to his advantage, standing several inches taller than the regs, as he guides you towards the back of the building. Though you catch glimpses of other troopers you recognize, you can’t help the way your gaze always draws back to Tech. His presence is magnetic. The way his shoulders stretch the lab coat makes your mouth water.

His voice jolts you out of your silent admiration. “I had the good fortune of exploring the back area of this building when we arrived,” he says, ushering you past the threshold. “It seems that many of these rooms were purpose-built for an event such as this. Our hosts must understand the rather base instinct to, ah, how did you put it? ‘Know how a monster fucks’.”

Hearing such vulgar language spill from Tech’s lips sends a delightful shiver up your spine. “I assume you picked a room already?”

“Of course,” he says. The grin he fixes you with is so unlike his usual stoic countenance that it throws you off. Lopsided, nearly a snarl, his gaze piercing and laser-focused behind those odd goggles, he seems to undress you with his eyes. Then the moment passes, and his expression smooths into his usual close-lipped smile.

“I presume,” he says, leading you down a labyrinth of hallways, “you have a safe word.”

“I do,” you say. “Meiloorun.”

“Excellent,” he says. “Mine is ‘occlusive’.”

You nod, committing the word to memory.

“Ah.” He pushes a door open with one large hand. “Here we are.”

Whatever you were expecting, it wasn’t far off from the sight before you. Inside, a cobblestone room is dominated by a massive metallic tilt table, currently vertical, with slack leather straps. Racks of various implements, some of it almost...medical in appearance, rest on wheeled carts near the table. Flickering sconces provide unstable illumination. The faintest scent of chemicals tickles your nose. That warmth in your belly from before, sparked by the alluring mixture of dangerous and capable, kindles into a low flame. Your chest rises and falls faster, anticipation making your fingers tingle.

The door shuts. You flinch at the resounding boom of a thick wooden beam sliding home.

“Now, ner cyar’ika,” Tech murmurs. He pauses by your side, eyes searching your expression as you continue to survey the room. “Normally I would offer to explain what is going to happen, but I think in this case, a single-blind experiment is in order.”

Snapping your head to look at him, you meet his calm, calculating gaze with widening eyes. There’s something there that again gives you the distinct impression that you should be scared—he is a mad scientist after all, and who knows what that magic potion can do? Those medical tools...the table with straps...clearly you’re meant to be an experiment.

But of what nature?

“Tech—”

“Doctor.”

You blink, heat blazing through you. “Of course. Doctor. May I at least ask the inspiration for your...costume?” You gesture vaguely at his attire.

“Granted,” he says, an amused lilt to his voice. “You see, I often have the ability to engage in experiments. In part, it is what I was made for. However, these experiments are always done in service of the greater good. The Republic, my brothers, Kamino.

“I do not begrudge these experiments. But,” he pauses, and his gaze lingers on your lips—your neck—your waist, “I want something for myself.”

Goosebumps prickle delightfully along your skin. Tech’s eyes miss nothing, and his brows twitch in amusement at your reaction.

“What is that exactly?” you ask. You can’t help how breathy your voice comes out. Arousal, hot and thick, rests under your skin.

“You, ner cyar’ika.” He says it like it’s the simplest, most obvious thing in the world. It would be sweet, except for the harsh, possessive undertone that washes over your skin and sets your nerves screaming. “I may not be a monster in the classic sense, but the urge to claim you for myself may certainly drive me to act...monstrously.”

Your core clenches around nothing. If he’s a monster, so are you, you decide. Nodding once, you quickly shuck your clothing, ignoring Tech’s quietly hungry stare, and allow yourself to stand completely bare before him. The cool air of the chamber makes your nipples pebble, stiffening to taut peaks. Catching your bottom lip between your teeth, you raise one eyebrow as if to say, Well?

Tech’s gaze darkens behind those swirled goggles, his hands reaching for you. He stops himself, though.

“Do you trust me?” he asks.

“I do,” you say.

He bares his teeth in a feral smile, nearly a grimace. “You really oughtn’t.”

Without giving you time to react, he snatches one of your wrists and twists your arm behind your back—not enough to hurt, but enough to startle you. A squeak of surprise escapes you. You can’t do much else but march forward, the pressure in your shoulder growing as he pushes your arm against your back.

Tech parades you to the tilt table and roughly spins you around. Your back arches as the cool metal kisses your skin; shivers wrack your body, nipples becoming almost painfully hard with the added stimulus. Tech’s hands, rough and calloused, manipulate your body into position, ignoring your physical discomfort. Arms held overhead, wrists secured by supple leather straps about shoulder-width apart, your body stretches over the table. He nudges your feet apart, the toe of his boot tapping your instep, before he crouches to tighten similar straps around your ankles.

Standing straight once more, his gaze sweeps your restrained, prone form hungrily. This time, he allows himself to reach out and caress you. One large hand cups your face. You nuzzle into his touch—but he draws his hand away just as quickly, down your body to tweak one nipple then the other, drawing a gasp from you. And farther down still, fingertips skimming your heated and sensitive skin, dancing around the one place you ache to feel him.

“Doctor,” you murmur. You try to press your chest forward in presentation, lure him into doing what you want.

He chuckles and withdraws completely. With a petulant whine, you watch, neck straining with the angle, as he retreats to one of the wheeled trays. Though you can’t see, you can only imagine the kinds of tools and toys he’s poring over. Your breath hitches when he faces you once more, several items held in his hands. What draws your attention are the ball gag and vibrator, but he also carries a length of silk ribbon and—is that a potion?

Tech sets the ribbon and vibrator down. When he straightens, he uncorks the small, glowing red bottle. A puff of sweet scent, like strawberries, wafts to you.

“Drink this,” he orders, holding the bottle to your lips. At your wide-eyed, worried look, he sighs. “It is an aphrodisiac. It will ensure that you stay hydrated and that your body does not tire as quickly as it normally would.”

He had said you shouldn’t trust him, so why do you still do? Perhaps, despite the magic potion lowering his inhibitions, he’s still Tech, still the intelligent, caring man you’ve been casual acquaintances with for some months now. Tech wouldn’t hurt you.

You open your mouth and allow him to pour the liquid in. Sweetness explodes on your tongue, definitely berry-flavored, and it settles into your belly with a peculiar sensation, like popping candy.

While your mouth is still open, he pushes the ball gag in. The red rubber ball wedges your jaw open; saliva already begins to pool around the intrusion where it rests on your tongue.

“Very good,” Tech states once the gag is secure. He bends to retrieve the other objects. “Now, here is how this is going to work. You are going to cum as much as I deem fit for my experiment. I need reliable data, and you are my guinea pig.”

Eyes widening, you whimper around the gag.

He ties the silk ribbon around one of your thighs, creating a loop for the vibrator. Once his handiwork is complete, he nods. The head of the vibrator rests against your aching core; no matter how much you squirm and twist, or angle your hips, the toy won’t move. Breathing shallowly through your nose, you follow Tech with your gaze as he moves away again.

Your one solace is that, when he turns, you catch sight of the sizable bulge tenting his pants. Maybe you can break his resolve, convince him, somehow, to have mercy on you.

Kriff, he hasn’t even started yet. Spit drooling down your chin, you steel your nerves.

“Ready?” he asks.

You try to answer in the affirmative, but the gag in your mouth prevents the words from forming, half-moaned grunts falling from you instead.

“That is satisfactory.”

He pushes a button on the small device in his hand. The vibrator whirs to life. Your body jerks, pleasure arcing through you. Moaning, you roll your hips. Though the vibrations aren’t strong enough to make you cum, not yet, it feels divine to have some kind of stimulation on your heated center.

Tech strides to a nearby lever and pulls it back one notch, the heavy metal gear clanking, his biceps bulging with the effort. The table you’re strapped to begins to incline until your body now rests at an angle, the change in position altering the pressure on your wrists and ankles. Flexing your fingers, you peer at Tech through half-lidded eyes.

He merely hums and, with a click of a button, ups the intensity. You groan as the vibrations climb, ripples of pleasure cascading through you. Undulating your hips, you chase the growing seed of orgasm sparking to life in your belly. Pleasure laps against your senses like the incoming tide, each wave larger than the last, each one threatening to drown you—but it’s not until Tech pushes another button that the surf breaks over your head.

You cum, body pulling taut as you cry out. There is nothing for you to do except let it ride out; and once the pleasure resides, aftershocks jolting your body, you whine, trying to arch your body away from the vibrations.

But you can’t. Stalking around the table, Tech’s eyes devour the way that your body twitches in overstimulation. You become aware of the sweat already pooling in the bend of your clavicles, the sticky release coating your lower half. On your own, you’d be satisfied, arousal ready to abate.

Tech, on the other hand, is not sated. Another press of the button, and the vibrations intensify another notch. You yelp. Tugging at your restraints, you try to remember how to breathe as the string in your belly begins to pull tight again. Your entire body feels like it’s on fire and submersed in ice at the same time, nerves singing.

At another increase in intensity, you shout, cumming again. Every muscle in your body locks up, brow scrunched as you bite down on the gag in your mouth.

Zap!

You flinch. Eyes shooting open, you stare at Tech and the new device in his hand. Confusion and the painful shock, already diminishing, distract you from the never-ending overstimulation between your legs.

“It is a specially designed electrostimulation tool,” Tech explains. He holds the small, handheld cylindrical device up to your face. Smooth and nondescript, the end of it contains two metallic prongs that remind you vaguely of a taser. What in the Sith blazing hells is he doing!?

In your ears, your heart thuds, drowning out everything else as the vibrations change in pattern this time. Shifting from the steady, monotonous drone, Tech selects a rhythm of several short bursts followed by one long drag of vibrations. Each pulse makes your body lurch. You’re already so spent, and yet, you feel another orgasm building in your belly. Toes curling, nails digging into your palms, you loose a hoarse cry when the pleasure crests once again. It pulsates through your entire being, throbbing in time with your heart.

Zap!

Whining, you try to twist your body away from the painful sting—but it was slightly less unpleasant this time than before. Panting, spit coating your entire front, you study Tech with guarded eyes as he brushes his knuckles over your flushed and warm cheek.

“Doing so well,” he murmurs. “Giving me such excellent data to work with. Now, cum for me again, ner cyar’ika. You can do it.”

A wail rips from your throat as the pattern changes again—several staccato pulses in quick succession, with no end in sight—and the intensity grows. It’s becoming nearly painful, but there’s a part of you, deep down, that preens under the praise, under the idea that Tech believes you’re a good subject for his experiment.

It takes a few moments longer, but you eventually cum for a third time. This time, you anticipate the electric shock, and this time, you find it feels...not pleasurable, necessarily, but good. Moaning brokenly, your head thunks back against the table’s surface. Your entire body is overheated, flushed with equal parts arousal and embarrassment, sticky with sweat, spit, and slick. You’re a mess.

In contrast, the only sign that this is affecting Tech at all are two high spots of color on his cheeks and a wet patch where the tip of his dick strains against his pants. He flashes you that dangerous smirk, one that you know now means that he’s not done with you. Far from it.

“Again.”

You lose track of how many times you cum. You’re sobbing, tears mixing with spit and sweat, body wracked with unending quivers as Tech plays with the settings of the vibrator. Equal parts pleasure and pain clash within you, each one feeding into the other. You’re uncertain how you’re still aware, mind so blissed out that the only thought you can conjure is how empty you feel. Despite reaching your peak so, so many times, there remains an ache in your core.

Zap!

You nearly cum just from the electric shock alone. Body sagging forward, you keen, voice cracking as pleasure threatens to blind you once again.

“Fascinating.” Tech switches off the vibrator suddenly. “Absolutely fascinating.”

You draw in shuddering breaths through your nose. Vaguely, you’re aware of Tech bustling around you, but you don’t care to focus until you feel him loosening the restraints holding your limbs down: first your ankles, then your wrists. He catches your limp body as you fall weakly forward. Arms supporting you easily, he carries you to a bed that you hadn’t noticed earlier, laying you on its plush surface.

Next, he removes the gag. He holds your mouth open once the toy is gone, then slowly helps you close it, massaging the joints of your jaw to help work out the soreness.

Tears continue to leak from your eyes. You don’t have the strength to raise your head, barely have the strength to reach with trembling fingers for him, but you whimper low in your throat to catch his attention.

“I am here, ner cyar’ika,” he assures. His voice still retains a hard edge to it. “What do you require?”

“Y-You,” you gasp out. Your voice is raw and hoarse. “You.”

He seems to understand. He shifts the both of you on the bed so that your legs fall open, bracketing where he kneels before you. At last you catch a glimpse of his hard length as he frees it from his pants. Angry red and dripping with pre-cum, his cock jumps as you moan. Tech squirts a line of lube onto his dick and then some onto his hand. He works most of it across your so-far neglected entrance.

“P-Please,” you rasp.

Wordlessly, he pushes the blunt head of his cock into your tight entrance. He pants, chin falling onto his chest to watch where your body swallows his length. That one stray curl bounces with the movement, and you yearn to brush it away from his forehead. As it is, you feel like you can barely move. All you can do is lie there and take it, take what you so desperately need.

He stills when he bottoms out, his hips pressed flush to your ass. Fingers digging into your hips, hard enough to leave bruises, his chest heaves with arousal. A low, broken wail rakes from your throat as the tip of him nestles against the bundle of nerves deep inside you, the perfect length, the perfect stretch.

“Te-e-e-e-ch!” you cry.

Nails biting into your skin, his grip tightens. “That is not my title, cyar’ika.”

“D-Doctor,” you sob. “Please, doctor, fuck me!”

“Gladly.”

The pace he sets is punishing. His cock drives against that shattered piece of bliss in your core with each thrust, setting your entire body on fire once again. But this time it’s different. The thread in your belly winds tighter and tighter, but the rope is thicker this time—stronger, a heavier recoil. Dimly you’re aware of the way that Tech’s jaw clenches, the veins in his neck standing out as he strains, the heavy and wet clap of his balls against your ass. But your mind zeroes in on the stretch of your hole around his thick length—and without warning, you cum.

You black out for a moment, ears ringing. Then: screaming. You’re aware of someone screaming. You think it’s you wailing, unable to control yourself. Your entire body is rigid, legs convulsing around Tech’s waist as he groans, high and heady.

“That’s it, let everyone know the monster making you feel this good,” he grits out. Though his hips falter for a moment, he doesn’t let up his pace, fucking you through your orgasm. It doesn’t take long before he groans, tossing his head back as his dick pulses, his hot, sticky seed spilling into your spent body.

Shaking, you whimper as his softening length slips from you. You lay there, gasping for breath, staring up at the stone ceiling while Tech rummages through supplies nearby. Your entire body is sore, aching, battered; yet you’ve never felt more gratified in your entire life.

“Darling,” Tech’s voice whispers nearby.

You don’t have the will to turn your head, but in your periphery you’re aware of him sitting on the bed next to you, wiping away the various fluids that coat your body. Lips twitching in a small smile, you simply gaze at him through hooded eyes. He’s doffed the lab coat, leaving him in his blacks, and swapped his goggles for his normal yellow lenses. Contentment sprawls through you at the sight of him, so familiar.

“You performed exceptionally well,” he says with his usual, barely-there smile. “Thank you. As soon as you are able, I would like to talk through everything you experienced, if that is alright.”

Blinking once, you try to nod.

Tech shushes you, smoothing a hand over your forehead. “I’ll get you some water. Regrettably, these rooms do not come equipped with a refresher of any kind; I shall put in a formal request with our hosts so they can make appropriate changes for the next party.”

Quiet amusement, warm and affectionate, curls through your chest. Of course Tech would be concerned about this place not having the proper amenities.

With supreme effort, you get your vocal chords to work. “Tech?”

He hums. “Yes?”

“Kiss me?”

A small chuckle escapes him, but he obliges, leaning over to press his lips to yours in a chaste, sweet first kiss. You sigh happily. Body slipping into sleep, you can’t fight the warm pull of dreams any longer, but you vow to kiss him again as soon as you’re able, his lips soft and smooth against yours.

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devastator1775 · 3 months ago

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Anne's Journey: Two eternal Souls And The Lost Daughter - Chapter 9: The Lighthouse

Summary:

Anne gets to know her birth parents a bit better and learns about the origin of her name.

LINK TO ARCHIVE OF OUR OWN

To call where Uzi and V lived a ‘house’ was a severe understatement, in Anne’s opinion … and Ashley very vocal one. ‘Manor’ or ‘estate’ seemed to be a more appropriate qualification. Their home was built near the giant lake, with a lighthouse that overlooked the entire area. The immediate terrain around the house was spacious, yet somehow gave off a rustic, comfortable presence. It was clear that Uzi and V didn’t lack in funds.

The house was clearly renovated to meet Uzi and V’s high standards – or at least, the standard that their personas expected. Knowing the long lives that her two birth parents had lives, they must’ve had dozens, if not hundreds, of different jobs. They did kinda dodged the issue on how rich they actually were, when asked by Ashley, but assuring that everything was completely legal. V mentioned that they still received royalties from some of their previous, more successful personas.

The area, while easily accessible through the nearby road, was far enough from the town that people almost never came to snoop around. Although, the ‘private property’ signs and fences that surrounded the property probably helped a lot. Even so, with the surrounding forest and the tall cliffs on the nearby beach provided much natural camouflage, so the couple never feared to be seen when V went out flying.

V showed them around her studio, where she made painting – and the odd sculpture from time to time – for Uzi to sell in her shop in town.

“I think you’re going to like this, Anne. It’s something quite up your alley” Uzi grinned as she guided the two young drones towards a giant bookcase.

“Well, I do like reading …” Anne mused as she let her gaze go over the seemingly normal bookcase. “But this … is just a bookcase.”

“Oh really?” Uzi grinned mischievously, ignoring the way V was rolling her eyes in almost undetectable amusement. “Ashley, do an old-yet-still-beautifully-young lady a favor and pull the book titled ‘The Secret Entrance’, please?”

Ashley pulled the book. There was a click and, to Anne and Ashley’s surprise, the bookcase opened a bit.

“A secret door?” Anne grinned in amazement. “Okay, I’ll admit. That’s cool.”

“Wait ‘till you see inside.” Uzi said with unconcealed glee as she swung open the heavy bookcase-door. “Welcome to my little empire.”

“Stop being so dramatic, Zi!” V called out teasingly. Something buzzed in her pocket, and she fished out her phone. She gave it a quick look and sighed – more like a frustrated groan disguised as a sigh. “Uzi, I’ll need to step away to my office for a moment. That prick who can’t stop complaining about my prices just texted me …again. He’ll probably try to haggle about lowering them again.”

“Okay! Just … try not to threaten them too much … this time.” Uzi grinned as she watched V spin around, stomping away towards her office. She turned to the young Drones again. ��With that little delay out of the way … welcome, once again, to m little empire.”

Anne’s jaw nearly dropped when she walked inside. It’s was a hacker’s paradise in there. Half a dozen screens, towers as tall as the ceiling, three sets of keyboards, a cup holder, … Anne considered herself quite the hacker, and she was pretty proud of her homemade tools, but she was nowhere near the level of type of tech that was in front of her. This … was God tier hacking.

“Wow, I’ll admit, that’s a lot of computer stuff.” Ashley stated dryly.

“This … is … amazing!” Anne called out with a squeal, jumping right into the chair in front of the computers. “Look at all this stuff! What kinds of systems are you running?”

Uzi chuckled, pretty pleased at her daughter’s reaction. “Things I don’t even have names for. Everything is home-coded, built from the ground up.” She stated, taking a seat next to Anne. “Of course, I’ve had decades and decades to perfect everything.”

“So, what is … all of this for?” Anne asked, gesturing to the whole setup.”

“A bit of everything. That screen is mainly security feed from the cameras around our property.” Uzi answered, pointing to one screen.

“What cameras?” Ashley asked, not recalling having seen them during their tour.

“Exactly.” Uzi answered with a grin. “That one has a direct connection to the Dark Web. That one shows our stocks. That one is for everything work-related. This one gives me a direct line into the Global Mainframe. What this one for again …? Oh, movies and video games.”

“Jeez, the power consumption must be off the charts.” Anne guessed, properly amazed with the technological demi-god that was the computer in front of her.

“Yeah, we even had to build our own underground power-grid. That lighthouse does a whole lot more than just giving us an amazing view.” Uzi said.

“No wonder you managed to detect my attempt to hack my core. I mean, darkXwolf17’s programs are supposed to be untraceable and unbreachable, but with tech like this …” Anne mused. She heard Uzi let out an amused chuckle, making her turn around in confusion. “What?”

“Didn’t you hear what I told earlier?” Uzi asked, a suggestive tone in her voice. “What does every program I ever made have, and for what purpose?”

“A backdoor, so you can enter it without much trouble, but I don’t get w-?” Anne froze, as realization hit her. “No way …”

Uzi grinned and nodded. “Way.”

“You are darkXwolf17?” Anne asked, her voice reaching a new octave. “THE darkXwolf17, who is regarded as THE legendary hacker? The one in long line of exceptional hackers who have inherited the title over the years?”

“Jeez, I have no idea who started THAT little myth, but darkXwolf17 has always been me.” Uzi grinned, sheepishly rubbing the back of her head. She hadn’t expected the reverence in Anne’s voice. She knew about the ‘legend of darkXwolf17’, but she had no idea that it had taken such a ridiculous grade of …aw, who was she kidding, she loved it.

Ashley let out a chuckle, enjoying how her friend’s higher functions seemed to glitch out while she was processing the new sliver of information about her birth parent. “Looks like you’ve been fangirling over your mom, 2Tone!”

“2tone?” Uzi asked, hearing the nickname for the first time.

“Oh, because of the …” Anne gestured to her dual-colored eyes. “Two tones, get it?”

“Oh, clever … I guess.”

“Hey, I was, like, 6 when I gave Anne that nickname.” Ashley stated defensively. “It was either that, or ‘Huey’, because of the hues.”

“So, you said you have direct access to the Global Mainframe?” Anne asked quickly, wanting to defuse the situation. She knew how Ashley could get if her ‘street smarts’ got questioned.

“Everything I’ve build a backdoor into, yes.” Uzi answered with a grin. “Even then, what I actually can do from her is, somewhat, limited. For precise actions, sometimes a direct, physical connection with the Main Server works better.”

Something suddenly dawned on Anne. A question in the back of her mind that she had been meaning to ask. “Is that how you managed to track me and Ashley?” she asked. “Using our unique ID-codes to pinpoint our locations, using the system callback pings to bounce the signal between origin and destination?”

Uzi blinked a view times. “No, but nice idea. I wish I had thought of that.”

“Oh, did you instead disguise the tracker program as a redundant system, like the ETRNTY virus did?”

“Once again, great idea, but not that either.” Uzi grinned. “Why do you ask?”

“So, I noticed you tried to initiate a trace on me during our, uh … encounter when I hacked my core -”

“Stupid and reckless, by the way.”

Anne rolled her eyes. “Yeah, yeah. Anyway, after that, I ran every sort of scanner and malware remover on both myself and my laptop, and every scan told me that it and me were completely clean. Still, you managed to track us down. There was no way I could’ve missed something as specific as a tracer software, so I’m just wondering how you did it.”

Uzi grinned. “You really have no idea, do you?”

“Not a clue.”

“Nothing?”

“Zilch.”

Ashley let out a frustrated groan. “Can you please answer her, before I – AAH!” She let out a brief scream and a moment later, Ashley had jumped up on a nearby chair, her eyes hollowed and pointing at something at the floor. “KILL IT! KILL IT!”

Anne’s eyes darted to over where her terrified friend was pointing, and to her surprise she noticed something – rather, someone – very familiar scattering over towards her. A little gold-greenish robo-roach. She knelt down and held open her hand to let the robotic critter climb on it. “Crit? How did you get here?”

“Junior here hitched a ride in Ashley’s backpack.” Uzi explained.

“EW! That fil… that thing was in my pack?” Ashley asked horrified. “Ew-ew-ew!”

“Not a big fan of roaches, she is.” Anne whispered to Uzi, before she realized something that the latter had said. “Wait, did you call him Junior?”

Uzi grinned, holding out her hand so Crit could jump over from Anne’s hand to hers. “Junior the 23rd, to be more precise. The latest descendant from a long line of keybugs I’ve been breeding to help me maintain my connections in facilities all over Copper-9. I’ve got dozens of his brothers and sisters scurrying around. Everywhere I need to have a stable link, or where I can’t go myself, I send one of these instead. A little keybug for the backdoor, so to speak.”

“So … if Crit is yours …how did he end up in my room?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Uzi asked. “We’ve sent him to you, about a year ago. He was meant to keep an eye on you.” She brought the but to her eye level, giving him a stern look. “He was also supposed NOT to let himself be seen and definitely not become a hacking tool for novice-to-advanced hackers.”

“Really? What for?”

“Like I said, we left you with Hazel and Naomi because we wanted you to have a normal life, away from all the lying and moving away. Especially in case you’d didn’t turn out having our affliction.” Uzi explained, lowering the keybug onto the desk, where it scurried towards Ashley, who immediately relocated to the other end of the room. “But, if you did turn out to have … abilities, he was supposed to sent us a message, after which we’d … I don’t know, I figure we’d have something prepared by then.”

“So, you were spying on me?”

“Not exactly.” Uzi explained. “It’s not like we had a direct link to his eyes, or anything like that. He just needed to observe and report back to us when you developed powers.”

“So … why didn’t he?” Anne asked. “I mean, he was there when everything happened.”

“Because he needed something with a bit more ‘oomph’ than your laptop.” Uzi stated. “Say, for example … the computers of Rivetdale Municipal Centre. And since you were heading that way anyway, and was going to use him as a Connection Booster, he went along with your plan.”

“Uh-oh …” Anne had a feeling she knew what had gone wrong. “I did something to screw him up, didn’t I?”

“Hmmm, more like we both are in the were to blame.” Uzi grimaced, throwing the keybug an apologetic smirk. “I was running my tracing program, while you were trying to counter-hack my hacking. When you disconnected suddenly – extremely dangerous, by the way – the program got installed on Mr. Crit instead.”

“So, instead of tracking me or my computer, you were tracking … him.” “And I never scanned him for malware, because … I didn’t know keybug could get malware.” Anne watched as Crit climbed on the back of her hand, lifting him up to her eye level. “I hope I didn’t hurt you, Crit.”

“He’s fine. Keybugs are extremely resistant.” Uzi let out a sigh. “But he can only hold so much data, so when I tried to upload my tracker program, it automatically deleted the data files he needed to send a communication to us. So, without that, he did the next best thing and snuck away in Ashley’s backpack when you decided to run away, and let the tracking program do its work.”

“Well, I guess that solves that mystery.” Anne let out a deep sigh, slumping in her chair.

Uzi tilted her head, concern in her visor. “What’s wrong, Anne?”

“I just … I feel stupid, I guess.” Anne confessed. “This whole trip I made, all those risks I’ve put myself and Ash in, … worrying my parents back home. I just …” She took a deep breath, and turned to Uzi with a sheepish look. “In hindsight, maybe I’ve could’ve gone through all this in a bit more … sensible matter. I mean, I believed that there had to be this big conspiracy, with you my birth parents at the center of it all.”

“Technically, you’re not too far off.” Uzi said with a sympathetic smile. She scooted closer to Anne, reaching out her hand – she hesitantly faltered a moment – and placed her hand on her cheek, giving her a loving smile. “Look, I get it. More than anyone else, trust me on that. But tell me this: would you’ve let it go? Could you?”

Anne shrugged. “I dunno …” She sighed. “I feel like a jerk, knowing I’ve put Hazel and Naomi through all this, when it wasn’t actually necessary.”

“Anne, you are a Doorman, which means …. Well, we don’t really do well with obsessions and letting things go.” Uzi rubbed the back of her head. “What I think I’m trying to say is: don’t get too wound up about it. The point is: things worked out. You’ve found us and learned the truth. Me and V got to see our beautiful, smart and resourceful girl.”

Anne couldn’t help but blush a little. This felt so much like when Hazel or Naomi – often teaming up – would gush about her to their friends. Still, she couldn’t deny the warm feeling inside her core. Uzi was right. Things had worked out, even better than she could’ve hoped for. She hadn’t accounted for the whole complicated family history, but …

“Thanks M- …Uzi.” She took a deep breath, catching herself from saying something that was maybe a bit too early to say. It was brief, but she saw that Uzi had noticed the little slip-up. The older woman’s smile faltered for a brief moment, but otherwise didn’t react to it. “Hey, I’ve got a question.”

“Ask away.”

“What … what do I tell Hazel and Naomi? They are going to have questions. I mean, I ran away, leaving a cryptic reason behind. I can’t just go home and … pretend nothing happened.”

Uzi smiled. “Let me and V worry about that.” She said, booping Anne on the proverbial nose. “As you can imagine, we have a bit of experience in that matter. We’ll come up with something believable.”

“Can’t I just tell them the tr-?”

“No!”

Anne flinched.

Uzi coughed in her hand. “Sorry, didn’t mean to shout like that. … Anne, didn’t you hear what we told? We need to keep our abilities a secret, even from the ones we care about.”

“But … I know about it.” Ashley piped up, taking a few steps forward. “And I promise that I will keep this secret. I’m not going to let anyone mess with Anne.”

“Ashley …” Anne felt herself blush a little, but she quickly wiped those blush lines from her visor. “I mean, what are you gonna do? Wipe her memory?”

“Well …” Uzi mused for a moment, prompting a shocked look from the two teens, before she let out a chuckle. “Oh, don’t give me those looks, I’m not going to wipe anyone’s memories. There’s too much that can go wrong with that. Listen, you say that you trust Ashley, so that’s enough for us. But … no more after her, okay. The more people know, the bigger the chance someone might slip up.”

“But you trusted Hazel and Naomi to care of me, didn’t you? I’m sure you can trust them with this.” Anne pushed, trying her best to project her best puppy eyes on her visor.

“Anne, it’s not an issue of trust.” Uzi sighed, pinching the non-existent bridge of her equally missing nose. “It’s about safety. Our safety, your safety, their safety. Believe me when I say that there are people out there who’d go through anything and anyone to get what they’d want from us. You are not ready for that.”

There was something Uzi and V hadn’t told her, Anne figured. Something in their past. If her birth parents were anything like her adopted parents, she wouldn’t get any answers by pushing too hard. Instead, she relented, letting out a defeated sigh. “Okay …”

Uzi gazed at her daughter’s dejected face, and her expression faltered for a moment but she quickly steeled herself … for a few seconds, before she let out a sigh. “I’ll talk with V about it.”

“Really?” Anne asked surprised, her gaze snapping upwards. “What about –?”

“Listen, it has been me and V alone for the longest time. You and Ashley are the first Drones since the death of my parents and our friends at Outpost 3 that are in the know. It’s … not easy for us to open up about this.” Uzi stated, rubbing her arm nervously. “Even before the whole immortality thing, we both had our trust issues. That only got worse afterwards. The truth is … we are scared. Scared what could happen to us, but more pressingly: what could happen to you. We never had something so important as you in our lives before, and … well …”

“I get it.” Anne said, smiling softly. “I’m sorry for pushing.”

“It’s quite -.” Uzi paused when she heard yelling coming from another room. “And that would be V losing her patience with a pushy customer. Listen, I’m gonna deal with her. How about you girls just hang out until dinner? Just … stay around the Lighthouse, okay?”

“Okay.” Anne agreed.

Ashley gave a thumb-up. “No probs, ma’am.”

As Uzi left the room, leaving the two teens behind. Anne let out a heavy sigh.

“You okay, Anne?”

“Hmmm?” Anne looked up, seeing the worry in Ashley’s eyes. “Yes, yes, I’m … fine-ish. It’s just …”

“A lot?”

“A lot of a lot.”

“Wanna climb the lighthouse? Get some views?”

Anne smiled softly. “I’d like that.”

* * * *

One set of stairs later, the pair found themselves atop the lighthouse balcony, overlooking the area.

“You know, I’ll give it to those two.” Ashley stated, pushing herself up on the railing. “They’ve chosen a prime location to get away from it all.”

“’It all’ being me, I guess?” Anne joked, putting on her best sad voice.

Ashley flinched, letting herself drop down again. “Anne, I didn’t-.” She noticed the half-grin her friend was trying very hard to conceal. She scoffed, giving Anne a playful push. “Oh, you are the worst, you know that?”

“I’m sorry. I couldn’t resist.” Anne admitted with a giggle. She took a deep breath, crossing her arms on the railing, enjoying the wind in her hair and the smell of the lake tingling her olfactory sensors – aka, her sense of smell, to put in in layman’s terms. The setting sun reflected in her visor, bathing it in a burning orange hue. “It’s been a long day.”

“I’d say …”

“And what I learned today.” Anne continued, more to herself than to Ashley. “My birth parents’ past, their abilities, their … sadness.”

“Yeah …”

“Do you think … that’s gonna happen to me, too?” Anne asked, finally letting that one question that was scaring her be spoken aloud. “Will I just … go on? Go from one identity to another?”

“Hey, you’ve heard them.” Ashley said, trying to cheer up her best friend. “Your abilities don’t work the exact same way as theirs, they said. There’s a good chance you don’t even have … you know.”

“Maybe …” Anne sighed and finally tore her gaze away from the setting sun, giving Ashley a pleading, sulky look. “But what if-?”

“Hey, worries for another time, okay?” Ashley interjected, grabbing Anne’s hands to give them a reassuring squeeze. She gave Anne a bright smile, prompting the latter to smile back. “I promise you, it will all be okay. You’ll see, we’ll figure things out. We figured the whole parents-mystery out too, right? Nothing can stop us when we’re together.”

Anne chuckled. “I guess that’s right. Thanks, Ash.”

A mischievous glint sparkled in Ashley’s visor. “Aaaand, if I get older while you stay young, I’ll just pretend I’m your mother.” She leaned in close, a near psychotic grin on her face. “Would you like that? Would you like to call me ‘mommy’?”

Anne burst out into laughter, pushing Ashley away from her. “Jeez, Ash, way to make it creepy.”

“C’mon, say it.”

“No!”

“Call me ‘mommy’, and I’ll spank you!” Ashley said darkly, raising her hands and wiggling her fingers in a tickling motion.

“Don’t you mean ‘or’?” Anne asked, already taking a few steps back to put some distance between her and her clearly deranged (affectionally, of course) friend.

“Nope! C’MERE!” Ashley lunged at Anne, trying to grab her.

“Ah!” Anne managed to duck underneath the redhead’s grabby arms and ran off. “Gotta catch me first, Ash!”

“You’re on, 2Tone!”

They ran after one another, laughing and playing like kids. It felt good to just … act silly, not a care in the world. After the last few days, Anne really needed that. Unlucky for Anne, the limited space of the lighthouse balcony didn’t leave much room for evasion and it didn’t take long for Ash to grab her friend by her sides and tickle her relentlessly.

“Okay, oka-ahahaha-ay! I yield, I yield.” Anne shouted between giggles, managing to tear Ashley’s ticking digits away from her. “You know, once I get my super-speed under control, you won’t be so lucky anymore.”

“Hmmm, we’ll see about that.” Ashley mused, prompting the two girls to burst out in giggles as they rested against the balcony.

“Hey, Ash?”

“Yeah?”

“I know I’ve said this about a dozen times by now, but … thanks for being here with me. I couldn’t have done this without your support.”

“Psssh…” Ahley waved the compliment away, blushing slightly.

“No, no ‘psshh’, Ash. I mean it.” Anne said sincerely. “Without you by my side … I don’t even want to think about that. I’m the luckiest girl in the world to have you with me.”

“Jeez, Anne, don’t get too sappy one, will you.” Ashley stammered, trying her best to keep her bravado up, even if her blush lines were betraying her. “But … the feeling’s mutual. I don’t say it too often – maybe I should – but …you mean so much to me. I …”

Anne noticed how Ashley seemed to be struggling to find the right words, and the sigh made something in her stomach flutter, for some weird reason. “Y-yes, Ashley?”

Ashley paused for a few moments, before she let out a soft chuckle and winked at Anne. “Jeez, all those emotions of today made me sappy as well. What I’m trying to say is: you and me, together? Nothing can stop us.”

“Yeah, you’re right.” Anne giggled, but something deep inside her felt … disappointed? Maybe her emotional regulation matrix is acting up again. She’d better run a diagnostic on herself later that day. Better safe than sorry, with all those weird emotional flare-ups she’s been having lately. And the fact that Ashley was always there when they happened, was pure coincidence. Yes, of course it was.

A hand waved in front of her vision. “Anne, you still with me, girl?”

Anne flinched and chuckled nervously. “Y-yeah, just peachy.” She took a deep breath. “Hey, do you mind to leave me alone for moment? I … I’d like to call my parents.”

“You sure?” Ashley asked with a raised eyebrow. “What about what Uzi and V-?”

“Relax, I’m not going to tell them anything.” Anne assured, even tough deep inside, she’d really wanted to tell her parents everything. “I’m just gonna make sure they know I’m alright and stuff. No worries. You want me to give them a message for your dad?”

“Nah, I’ll just text him.” Ashley said as she made her way towards the stairs. “Tell H&N I said ‘hi’, though.”

“Okay!” Anne waited until she couldn’t hear Ashley’s footsteps anymore, before letting out a deep sigh as she turned back towards the setting sun. She fished out her phone – briefly allowing herself to be amazed that she had full bars. Great reception here. – and went through her contact until she reached the one labeled ‘Home’.

Her finger hovered over the ‘call’ button for a few moments, contemplating what she was going to say to them. She had promised Uzi and V that she wouldn’t tell them about the secret situation, but …. No, no ‘but’. She had promised, and Anne Brinkman wasn’t someone who was about breaking promises. She took a deep breath and slowly released it as she pushed the button.

Her core pounded with excitement as she waited.

“Hello, this is Hazel.”

“Mom!” Anne almost shouted. “It’s-.”

“And Naomi!”

“And Anne!”

Anne deflated. Voice mail.

“We’re not home right now!”

“Leave a message after the beep!”

“…”

“Mom, I think we still got a few seco-“

BEEP

“H-hey mom, it’s me. I’m just calling to say …” Anne began, taking a brief moment to gather her thoughts. She took a deep breath. “I’m just calling to say that I am alright. So is Ashley. She says ‘hi’, by the way. We … we’re, uh … we’re coming home soon, okay? I’m … I’m sorry for what I’ve put you through. This whole thing ….”

She sighed, forcing herself to smile … despite it being a phone call and no-one could see her smile. “Like I said, we’re alright and we’re coming home soon. I can’t wait to see you guys. I love you. …bye!”

She ended the call with a dejected sigh. She really wanted to hear her parents’ voices right now.

“Anne?!”

The Drone in question flinched and looked down, seeing Uzi standing there. “Yeah?”

“Can you come down? V and I are going to get started on dinner, and as our guests, you get to pick what you want.”

Anne couldn’t help but to smile a little. “Coming!”

* * * *

That night, a certain Drone had trouble getting some sleep.

“C’mon, just fall asleep, dangit.” Anne muttered to herself, tossing from one side to the other. With a sigh, she rolled on her back to stare at the ceiling, letting out a groan. Another groan in the room made her gasp, quickly looking over to the origin of the sound. To her relief, Ashley was still sound asleep, mumbling in her sleep.

Assured that she hadn’t woken her friend from her slumber, she checked her internal clock. It was close after midnight, but she wasn’t feeling sleepy at all. Her thoughts kept running through her head, keeping her from finding the rest she desired.

She let out a sigh and threw off her blanket, swinging her feet over the edge of the bed. Rubbing her face, she muttered a few curse words directed to the robotic deity of slumber and stood up. She walked straight towards Ashley’s bed, grinning at the sight of it.

Ashley had kicked off her blankets, with one of her legs dangling over the side of the bed. She was hugging herself, like she was trying to warm herself up. With a silent giggle, Anne picked up the blanket and laid it out over her friend’s sleeping frame. No idea what possessed her to do the next thing, but she leaned in closer and gently kissed Ashley’s cheek, smiling as the latter giggled in her sleep.

Tiptoeing out of the room, Anne made her way to the stairs, planning to go to the kitchen. Maybe a glass of warm oil could help her. As she made her way down, she could hear voices coming from the living room. A conversation that abruptly ended when the last step creaked.

A pause.

“Anne?” V’s voice called out.

“Yeah, it’s me.” Anne answered as she walked through the doorway leading to the living room. She smiled a little at the scene before her, because she had seen the same thing so often at home. V was sitting on the couch, with Uzi pretty much lounging on top of her, using the couch’s armrest as a pillow. They quickly took on more normal sitting positions as Anne walked in. Heh, just like with her parents.

“Hey, kiddo.” V greeted softly, gesturing her to come closer. “Can’t sleep?”

“Not really.” Anne answered with a shrug as she took cautious steps forward.

“Something wrong?” Uzi asked, and Anne couldn’t help but feel a warmth wash over her core as she heard the concern in her voice. That same concern her parents back home would use whenever they saw Anne was feeling troubled.

“I guess …” Anne began, rubbing her arm sheepishly. “I guess I’m feeling a little homesick.”

The looks on the two older women’s faces changed from concerned to endeared – once again, almost the exact reaction Hazel and Naomi would have.

“Anything we can to make things more comfortable for you?” Uzi asked with a gentle smile.

“Well, maybe you… “Anne flinched and caught the rest of the sentence before it left her throat, realizing she couldn’t just ask this of them. “No, forget I said anything.”

“C’mon, just tell us.” V urged softly, grinning.

“Well …” Anne took a deep breath as a blush started to form on her visor. “When I can’t sleep, my moms let me cuddle up with them until I fall asleep. They’ll brush my hair, tell me stories and stuff. I figured, you are …well, my parents too, so I thought maybe …”

There was a silence that formed in the room as her voice trailed off.

Anne chuckled nervously. “You know what? You’re right. It’s a dumb idea, I know. I’ll just-”

“Come here, Anne.”

Anne blinked. “Huh?”

Uzi scooted a bit away from V, making some room between them. She patted the space between them, giving Anne a soft smile. “Come here, and we’ll give it a shot.” She gave Anne an understanding smile. “If it’s starting to feel too weird, you can just hop off.”

“You sure?” Anne asked as she took a few cautious steps toward the couch. Her core was buzzing, and something deep inside her was just … longing to just jump right on the couch.

“Like you said …” V began, and Anne couldn’t help but hear the anticipation in her voice. “We are your parents too.”

After a few hesitating moments, Anne walked over to the couch and took a seat, nervously tapping her knees as she tried to force herself to get comfortable.

“Take your time, Anne.” Uzi chuckled as she relaxed herself into the couch.

“We know this might be … strange.” V assured. “No biggie if you’re not feeling up to it.”

It was weird, but not like Anne thought it would be. There was a … familiar warmth that was starting to spread around her body, despite the nervousness she was feeling. She thought that a part of her was going to feel like she was betraying her parents back home, but …

“How about a story to calm the nerves?” Uzi asked, having noticed Anne’s struggle with her inner thoughts.

“Like what?” Anne asked.

“What do you like to hear?” V asked back.

There was something, Anne realized. Something she had noticed when Uzi and V were telling their backstory. “Who was N?” She asked cautiously. “I mean …. Who was he to you. I know he was your friend, but … I know there was something more going on.”

V chuckled. “Smart kid.”

“My side of the coding, obviously.” Uzi teased, winking at her wife. She turned to Anne. “What gave it away?”

“My name.” Anne couldn’t help but grin a little. “I mean, ‘Anne’, ‘N’ … you’ve named after him, right?”

“It felt … appropriate.” Uzi stated, with V nodding in agreement.

“So, who was N, really?” Anne asked, scooting closer to Uzi to lean against her arm. She hadn’t realized she was doing it. It was just the same thing she did when she was back home, listening to Hazel or Naomi telling one of their stories.

Uzi, after a moment’s hesitation, slowly wrapped an arm around Anne’s shoulder, waiting a moment to see if the young Drone would object to this sudden display of affection. When Anne didn’t say anything – she adjusted her position to get more comfortable, even – she nodded to V. The latter leaned over and opened a drawer of the coffee table, taking out a book.

“N was …special, to both of us.” V began as she started to flip through the book. “Like I told you, I knew N from when I was still a regular Worker Drone, back on Earth. He was … a big goofball.”

“A silly Golden Retriever.” Uzi added with a chuckle.

“What’s a Golden Retriever?”

“A type of dog.”

“What’s a dog?”

“Really?”

“Kidding.”

“Hush, child.” V chuckled. She pointed at a picture, showing male Disassembly Drone with a pilot’s hat, saluting cheerfully. A blush started to appear on her visor. “I don’t have any pictures of us back then, but just imagine us … shorter. Less lethal.”

“I’m having trouble imaging you as lethal now, V.” Anne chuckled as she leaned over to look at the picture. “He looks … cheerful.”

“He was …obnoxiously so.” V chuckled. “Like we said, N – like me - was one of the Drones that was taken in by Tessa after he was discarded. When we met for the first time, he and I … had a spark.”

Anne’s eyes sparkled in turn. “Really?”

“Yeah …” V sighed warmly, but … also sad. “It never went anywhere, of course. I was extremely shy, back then. Terrified of doing anything that would upset our human masters. But … we were as close as we dared to be. Just friends, but …it was enough.”

“Until …” Anne began cautiously. “The Solver?”

“Yeah.” V acknowledged. “After the Massacre, we got turned into … this, and … well, we’ve told you what happened.”

Anne nodded.

“Well, after … all that, we were sent to other planets to ‘disassemble the population’, and eventually ended up here.” V continued. She paused, like she was gathering her thoughts. “My memories of our past were … scrambled, but I knew there had been something. I didn’t remember my deal with the Solver yet, but I knew I had to protect him. From the past, the horrors we’ve done. It was bad enough that we were forced to hunt our own kind, but …I needed to spare him that. Keep him at arm’s length, keep him safe. I pretended I never knew him, even if, deep down, I absolutely hated it.”

“You still loved him.” Anne stated with a smile. “That’s why you did that, right?”

V nodded, a soft smile forming on her lips. “It didn’t matter, though. I wasn’t right for him. Not like how I was in those days.” She turned to Uzi, giving her a soft smile. “That would’ve been this one.”

“This would be the part where you blew his head off with a homemade railgun?” Anne asked, turning to Uzi, who chuckled in response.

“Yeah … N and I had a real unique start to our relationship.” Uzi began, smiling as she remembered that extremely peculiar event. “But … unique or not, meeting him was the best thing that ever happened to me.”

“How come?”

Uzi’s smile faltered a moment. “I … wasn’t happy in those days.” She began. “I didn’t know my mother. My dad was obsessed with doors – don’t ask – and hardly had any time for me. No-one at school wanted to have anything to do with me. I was great in class, but did the teachers notice? Nope, nothing. I … was alone. And I thought that building a railgun to kill all the Disassembly Drones in my path would fix that.”

“Seems reasonable.”

“Turns out … I only needed N.” Uzi smiled fondly at the memories that started to play in her head. “N, despite how much I tried to fight it, became my first real friend. And even more so – something I was heavily in denial of – I was falling in love with him. He too, but he had the lousiest timing of telling it, though.”

“Aww…” Anne leaned her head on Uzi’s shoulder, smiling as she noticed how V was scooting closer. She felt fingers play with her hair … just like her momma Naomi back home would do. “Did … did you ever tell him?”

Uzi expression saddened, and she let out a heavy sigh. “No, I never got the chance. He died of his injuries before I could tell him, but …” She smiled softly, flipping through the photo album. There were a few pictures of Uzi and N, probably taken from V’s memory storage. N had his arm around Uzi, who stood there with her arms crossed and appearing to look very annoyed, but failing to keep her blush hidden. “I like to think he knew. Somewhere, he knew, even if my angsty teenage denial spoke instead of my heart.”

“Would … would he have liked me, you think?”

V snorted. “Kiddo, he would have adored you.”

Anne smiled, suppressing a yawn as she flipped through the book. She ended up on a picture of two people. A man with a moustache, and a woman with purple hair in a wheelchair. The woman looked … familiar. “Who are they?”

“Those are my parents. Your grandparents.” Uzi answered. “Khan Doorman, and Nori Doorman. This was taken after my mom’s core got reinstalled into a Drone body.”

V snorted. “Took months before she stopped crawling on all fours out of habit, though. Oh, Uzi, do you remember when-?”

Anne felt herself relax as she got comfortable, pulling up her feet to snuggle up against Uzi’s arm. A smile spread on her lips. She was … happy. She felt safe.

…

She was tired.

…

Maybe she’d close her eyes for just a second.

* * * *

“Anne?”

“Hmmm, g’way…” Anne mumbled, pulling the blanket over her head.

There was a moment of silence.

Next thing, something soft landed on her head, but with enough impact to knock the sleepiness out of Anne’s system. She bolted up with a surprised yelp, tearing the object – Ashley’s pillow – from her face. Her assailant in question – her best friend Ashley – stood over her with a big smile and fists on her hips.

“You up?”

“I am now!” Anne grumbled, rubbing her visor. She glanced up with malicious intent. “I’m getting you back for that.”

“I’m sure you will.” Ashley laughed. “C’mon, breakfast is ready.”

“Okay, I’ll be down soon.” Anne said as she swung her legs over the edge of the bed. “Now, get lost.”

Ashley saluted and made her way out of the room, calling out to Uzi and V that ‘Miss Sleepyhead had finally awoken from her slumber’.

Anne stretched, wondering how she ended up in bed. Last thing she remembered, she was listening to her par- … Uzi and V’s stories. They must’ve tucked her in when she had fallen asleep.

“Morning …” Anne mumbled as she stumbled into the kitchen, where Ashley was sitting at the table while Uzi and V were fixing breakfast.

“Just in time.” V announced as she placed a tray of food before Anne, who raised an eyebrow in surprise and confusion.

“Eh …, I appreciate you feeling the need to feed me, but … isn’t this a bit much? There’s enough to feed ten Annes, V.” Anne chuckled.

“You better eat as much as you can, to fuel up your energy cells and your backup cells.” V stated as she sat down. “Wouldn’t want you to faint half-way through training, would we?”

Anne looked up, spoon of ‘lucky screws’ serial halfway to her mouth. “Training?”

“Well, you’ve asked if me and Zi wanted to teach you how to use your abilities, right?” V grinned.

Anne expression grew from confusion to surprise. “For real?”

“Me and V talked it over, and …” Uzi began, sitting down with a mug of caffeinated oil. “You were right, you need to learn how to use these. But we need to cram a lot of knowledge inside that noggin of yours, and we only have a few days.”

“What happens after a few days?” Anne asked.

“Then you’ll go home, to Rivetdale.” Uzi announced, but her voice sounded a bit … reluctant. “To Hazel and Naomi. To your actual life.”

“So soon, but –”

“No buts, missy.” V interrupted sternly. She sighed. “We’d love to have you over for longer, but … we can’t keep you away from your parents back home. We’ll teach you what we can, and what we’ll do afterwards …. I guess we’ll think of something.”

“Hey, ish bett’r th’n not’ing, Anne.” Ashley spoke; mouth full of silicone porridge.

“Don’t speak with your mouth full, Ashley Yates.” Uzi sighed. “But, she’s right. And so is V. We’ll think of something.”

“So … did you happen to talk about the ‘other thing’ too?” Anne asked cautiously.

Uzi and V gave each other a look, with the latter letting out a sigh. “We’ll see how training goes, okay? Now, eat up, we’ll start after breakfast.”

#murder drones #fanfiction #archive of our own #AO3 #Murder Drones #uzi doorman #serial designation v #immortal vuzi au #murder drones Au #vuzi

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