#THANK YOU TECH PANEL
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raininyourblackeyes · 28 days ago
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LMAO
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backtothefanfiction · 10 days ago
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Joaquin Torres x Stark!Reader | Grumpy x Sunshine
Summary: Joaquin and Sam take a trip to the Stark cabin to get something fixed on Joaquin’s suit.
Warnings: fluff, grief, angst, banter
Word Count: 2.6k+
A/N: Okay so I this is based on an ask that came through my inbox. I did make a couple adjustments, but over all the bones are the same. Hope people enjoy!
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Joaquin always felt awkward when Sam dragged him out to the Stark cabin for a fix on their suits. Although he had never met Tony Stark himself, the Avenger was someone everyone knew and his loss was still felt all around the world. But the Stark cabin always felt like the nucleus of that grief. More importantly, the shed out back.
"I'm gonna head in and say hey to Pepper," Sam said as they made their way side by side down the path through the woods that lead to the old hunting cabin that had been turned into the Stark's main home during the blip.
"Okay, well I'm gonna- head-" Joaquin's voice trailed off as Sam made a left and began to head up the stairs to the front door, suddenly leaving him on his own, "to- the- uh shed I guess," he muttered to himself much quieter, looking between the cabin and the shed where he knew you would be.
He hesitated at the door to the shed. He knew you'd be in there, you practically lived in there since your Dad died. He knew it was bad for you to isolate yourself the way you did, throwing yourself into continuing his work as a way to manage your grief, but he also felt like he was invading your sanctuary whenever he stopped by.
"YO, FEATHERS! YOU GONNA STAND OUT THERE ALL DAY OR YOU GONNA COME IN!" Your voice called out to him and he took that as his queue to enter.
"How did you know I was out there?" he asked as he strutted in, his eyes scanning the space as he sought you out amongst the converted lab you and your Dad had built together during the blip. The two of you hadn't been too close before then, your Mom wanting you to keep your distance from the man she had accidentally conceived a child with during a drunken one night stand in her 20s, but when she became a victim of Thanos and the blip, you had no choice but to seek refuge with him.
"Cameras," you said, lifting a tablet in the air that showed a video feed of the front door and Joaquin used it as a marker to find you amongst the mess.
"You know I don't have feathers right?" he said as he approached the bench where you were huddled over a piece of tech, a soldering iron in hand as you fused different components together.
"And you two could literally go to anyone else at Stark Industries to fix your suites and yet, here you are." you said sarcastically as you finally met his eyes.
Joaquin took one look at the dark circles under your eyes and his heart ached. He hated to see you like this. He had developed a crush on you the first time he had met you. It was a couple years ago now. He had been brought in with Sam and Bucky for the debrief with Colonel Rhodes after the incident with the flag smashers. You had stopped by to have dinner with your Father's old best friend, turning up in a red floral sun dress and denim jacket and he had instantly fallen in love- not that he'd ever had the balls to tell you.
“You haven’t been sleeping.” Joaquin stated, his voice soft, but you hated the tone of pity that accompanied it. It was coming up to the anniversary of your Father's death and your dreams had been plagued with flash backs to the battle where you had watched him lose his life.
“Well thanks Captain Obvious.” you snapped at him resentfully.
As long as he'd known you, Joaquin knew your usual jaded demeanour and hostility was due to your inability to deal with your grief over your Dad, but he also knew this extra spiciness to your tone was due to the aforementioned lack of sleep. “You know I was never actually a captain.” he said, trying to lighten the mood, but it didn't help.
“Okay, then Lieutenant Obvious. Better?” You sassed as you forcefully turned him around to get to the access panel on the back of the wings.
“Remind me again why you’ve got to do this with the suit on me.”
“It’s so you can fly away the second I’m done and stop- annoying-me,” you grunted as you popped the panel. “Uuuhgg, this is a mess. Who the hell has been fiddling with this thing?” you asked, taking in the hazard of wires and switch boards inside.
“The US governement.” Joaquin laughed.
“That sounds about right," you gritted as you took your soldering iron from before and began adjusting and readjusting wires.
As you worked, Joaquin took a moment to look around the room again. There were empty cups, mugs and plates discarded in different places as you had refuelled on the go. The sofa in the corner had a blanket haphazardly draped across it, implying that when you had been sleeping, it had been in here and not in the house with Pepper and your half sister Morgan. It broke his heart.
"Y/N-" he said your name tentatively, wanting to broach the subject and help, but also not wanting you to completely shut down and shut him out and hate him forever.
"Don't." you said, reading his mind without having to look directly at his face as you focused on your current job. "There," you sighed, "try that." you said as you closed the panel again and sat back.
Joaquin turned around, shifting in his suit, his arms lifting as he prepared to let loose the wings at his back. "NOT IN HERE MORON!" you quickly said, fear rippling through you at the thought of the nano tech wings unfolding at his back and smashing into the machinery set up around the two of you. "Take it outside."
"Uh, yeah. Right." Joaquin stuttered nervously as he realised his mistake.
You reluctantly followed him outside for his test flight and was met with the sight of your younger sister running down the steps of the cabin and over to you both. "JOAQUIN!" the young girl beamed, taking him in. She for sure had a little school girl crush on him. And to be fair, you couldn’t blame her, he was good looking, you just weren’t interested in anything right now.
"Hey Kiddo!" he said, embracing her as she ran into his arms to greet him with a hug. "Your sister's just fixed my wing up. Wanna see?"
"Yeah! Of course!" she beamed and the way she smiled made you see all of the same awe and wonder in her eyes as your Father used to have. The look sent a new wave of grief to hit you and you had to turn away from her for a moment to compose yourself. It was so quick you had hoped neither of them had noticed, but when you looked back to Joaquin, it was clear to you he had.
"Well, go on then. Get this over with so I can go back to work." you said, folding your arms across your chest as you encouraged him to let his wings free.
His eyes seemed to linger on you for a moment, trying to find a way to penetrate your armour before he finally conceded. There was a click and a rippling schwing of metal as his wings unfurled seamlessly at his back, shorter at first, but then he pressed another button in the gloves of his suit and the nanobots shifted and extended the wings down to make them larger.
"Oooooooh," Morgan cooed in wonder as she took them in.
"Come on then feathers, you gonna fly or what?" you encouraged him. He sighed in your direction, but ultimately activated his helmet and thrusters and dramatically blasted off from the floor at such a force you and Morgan had to steady yourselves as you were hit with a blast of air.
You both watched from the ground as he began to do a sweep around the property, Morgan running down to the lakes edge to watch him closer as he dipped down to run a finger through the water as he glided above it. You stood there for another minute, watching to make sure there weren't any more problems, but when he started to show off, doing barrel rolls through the air to impress Morgan, you knew it was your cue to return to your work.
“You know, you should be a lot nicer to him,” Pepper’s voice startled you. You hadn’t noticed her when you first came in, but at the sound of her voice, you quickly found her collecting up some of your plates and mugs, ready to take them back into the cabin.
You didn’t respond to her, your body turning back to your work as you pretended like she wasn’t there. You didn’t want the lecture right now. Although she had married your Father and had technically become your step mom, not to mention she was your half sister’s actual mother, Pepper had always felt more like an Aunt to you. She had all the same maternal energy and instincts towards you, but she was more approachable like a friend.
“You know, I invited them to stay for dinner,” she said as she came up beside you. “We’re having cheeseburgers, in honour of your Dad.” she continued, trying to get any sort of reaction out of you, but you weren’t biting. “You know,” she said, after another pause, deciding to change tac, “I think he likes you.”
“What makes you say that?” you said instinctively and you instantly kicked yourself for responding, but you could feel the swell of pride coming off Pepper as she realised she had gotten you to break.
“Because I’ve seen the way he looks at you,” she said wistfully, her eyes looking out the open doorway towards the sounds of her daughter’s giggles as she played with Joaquin. “And no matter how mean you are to him, he keeps coming back.”
“Is that what happened with you and my Dad?” You asked, fishing for information about the origins of their relationship.
“Not quite. Me and your Dad were… a little more complicated. Your dad was always a lone wolf, but he,” she said, her gaze moving to the man outside again, “he’s more of a golden retriever. He may be a bit goofy and over enthusiastic at times,” she said, before turning her attention back to you, “but he’s loyal. And he knows how to have fun,” she stressed as she nudged your shoulder. It was a small gesture, but it spoke volumes about the way you needed to take a break from your Father’s legacy and just learn to let loose again.
You went back to giving her the silent treatment as she shifted the cups and plates in her hands again and went to leave. But as she reached the door, the small voice in the back of your head (you often liked to think was actually your Father living rent free in your brain), told you she was right.
“Pepper!” you called out to stop her. “Thanks.” you said, giving her the first smile that had graced your face all week. She didn’t say anything more back, just gave you an equally fond smile of acknowledgment. After all, Pepper Potts knew she had already said everything she needed to, to finally get you back out of the shed.
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Nearly two hours later, you finally made your way up to the cabin for dinner. The sound of laughter and the sizzling sounds and smell of the burgers was almost overwhelming after spending a week alone out in the shed, but you quickly shook it off. Both Sam and Joaquin turned their heads at the sound of the door, but quickly became distracted again by your sister. She was stood in the middle of the living room giving a rather animated account to them of an incident that had happened to her at school. You couldn’t help but smile at the way she captivated them as you snuck through the house to the kitchen.
“Can I help with anything?” you quietly asked.
Pepper turned and gave you a smile. You watched as her eyes scanned you. You had changed since she had left you and even taken the time to run a brush through your hair. You could tell there was something hidden in her gaze, knew she was eager to tease you over it, but she quickly dropped it, not wanting to scare you off after finally being able to coax you back in.
“I’m almost done,” she said, “the burgers will just be another minute or two. Why don’t you lay up the table, ready for everyone.”
You didn’t give her a verbal response, instead headed straight to the draw to retrieve the cutlery and placemats. “Let me help you with that.” Joaquin’s voice came from behind you. You turned your head with a start. You hadn’t even heard him follow you in.
“Uh, thanks,” you said quietly as he took the handful of cutlery from you and followed you to the dining table.
You were both silent as you began to put down the placemats, Joaquin following close behind you and laying down the cutlery. When you had finished that, he followed you back to the kitchen to help carry in the salad and condiments, which you laid out in the middle of the table so people could help themselves.
“I’m sorry- uh I mean, earlier, this afternoon. Thank you for uh,” Your voice froze. Gosh this was awful. You desperately wanted to bridge the gap you had placed between the two of you, but you didn’t know how. “I’m sorry I was a dick!” you finally blurted out.
He let out a little snicker at your outburst, but quickly schooled his features, knowing you were trying to have a serious conversation. “It’s okay, don’t worry about it.”
“I know, it just… I know I can be a bit…”
“Hostile?” He said, filling in the word you were struggling with.
“Yeah. Hostile.” you repeated.
“It’s okay. I know you don’t mean it. It’s not easy losing a parent. It’s not easy losing anyone.” he corrected himself. “Grief makes us do odd things sometimes. Just know that you’re not alone. Okay?”
“Okay.” your repeated.
“I’m here for you. Come rain or shine. Night or day. You don’t have to do this on your own.”
“I know,” you sighed, your head hanging, almost in shame. “I’ve just… never really been that good at asking for…”
“Help?”
“Yeah,” you sighed.
“Look,” he said, and you watched at he reached into his back pocket for his wallet and pulled out a bit of paper with his number on it. You hated to think how long he’d had it sat in there just waiting for the right moment to give it to you. “This is my number. Call me whenever.”
You took it from him and couldn’t help the small smile that danced on your lips as your fingers played with the piece of paper you had been handed. “Even in the middle of the night when I can’t sleep?” you asked him, both earnestly, but with a hint of suggestiveness you hoped he’d pick up on.
He was silent a moment as he analysed you. Wanting to check and make sure you had meant to imply what you had. When he realised you had, he hung his head in an attempt to hide the blush in his cheeks and the shit eating grin that adorned his face. “Yeah,” he sighed, finally looking back up across the table at you, an entirely new kind of tension between you now, “especially then,” he said and you knew that was one offer of help you were never going to turn down.
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anakinstwinklebunny · 18 days ago
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PAIRING: nerd!anakin x f!reader
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ANAKIN SKYWALKER's hands were shaking so badly that they almost dropped the pot of boiling pasta water earlier, but thankfully Shmi had came in, taking a lead of a few things.
"Relax, Ani," she said softly, helping him stir the creamy sauce he’d been obsessively perfecting all day. "She’s going to love everything. Just be yourself. That’s who she likes, after all."
He nodded quickly, adjusting his glasses on the bridge of his nose as beads of sweat formed on his forehead. "But, Mom, what if it’s not perfect? What if she doesn’t—what if she thinks I’m boring or the food tastes—"
Shmi silenced him with a knowing look, taking the tie from his trembling hands and starting to knot it for him. "She won’t think any of that. Trust me. You’re a good man, Ani. Anyone would be lucky to have you. Now take a deep breath."
He did, reluctantly, heart pounding harder than when he presented his tech project to a panel of judges last semester. He wanted tonight to be flawless because he loved you. He really, really loved you, even though the two of you hadn’t been together long. There was just something about you—your laugh, your kindness, the way you never teased him for his quirks or awkwardness—that had completely captivated him.
When the timer went off for the pasta, Anakin jumped, nearly knocking over the dessert he had painstakingly assembled earlier: tiramisù in perfectly layered individual glasses. Shmi gave him a little nudge. "Go set the table, sweetheart. I’ll finish up in here."
He nodded again, fumbling with the fancy tablecloth he’d took out from the shelf. It wasn’t anything extravagant, just a small table tucked into the corner of the living room, but he’d done his best to make it look elegant. Candles flickered softly, special, holiday plates and glasses that gleamed under the dim light from the candles. He had even folded the napkins (though they were a bit lopsided). It looked… okay. Hopefully.
When there was a knock at the door, his stomach plummeted. He rushed to Shmi, practically pushing her toward the other room.
"Mom, please. I love you, but not tonight. I—" He hesitated, feeling guilty. "I’ll introduce you to her soon, I promise, just not… tonight."
Shmi chuckled, patting his cheek. "You’ll do fine, Ani. Now go get her before she thinks you stood her up."
He inhaled deeply, then exhaled shakily, smoothing his tie and his shirt, fixing the bottoms there before making his way to the door. When he opened it, his breath hitched. You stood there, looking absolutely radiant, your warm smile making his nervous heart race even faster.
"I—uh—hi," he stammered, cheeks flushing bright red as his eyes roamed over you in awe. "You look—I mean, you’re so—uh—wow."
You giggled softly, tilting your head. "Thank you, Ani. You look really handsome too."
His blush deepened, and he stumbled back to let you in, awkwardly gesturing toward the table. "Please, um, come in. I—I set everything up. I hope it’s okay. Is it okay?"
"It’s perfect," you said sincerely, already charmed by the effort he’d put in. It was such a thoughtful act, Ani was a thoughtful man.
He hurried to pull out your chair, nearly tripping over himself in the process. "Here, sit. Are you comfortable? Is the chair okay?"
You sat down, smiling warmly at him. "It’s perfect, Anakin. Thank you."
He disappeared into the kitchen for a moment before returning with two plates of pasta, carefully setting one in front of you. "I, um, made creamy pasta. It’s not too hot, I hope, but if it is, I can—I can fix it. Or if it’s too cold, I can—"
"Anakin," you interrupted gently, placing a hand on his. "It’s great. Really. Thank you for doing all this. Its beautiful."
He swallowed hard, staring at your hand on his, heart thundering in his chest. "I just… I wanted tonight to be special. For you. Because you’re—well, you’re amazing, and I—" He trailed off, blush deepening further as he fumbled for words.
You squeezed his hand, smiling at him with a softness that made his breath catch. "It already is, Ani."
For the rest of the evening, he was an absolute gentleman, fussing over every detail to make sure you were comfortable and happy. He asked if you needed more water, if the pasta was seasoned enough, if the tiramisù was too sweet or too bitter. He blushed every time you complimented him, the nervousness only making him more endearing.
By the end of the night, as the candles flickered lower and the conversation grew softer, Anakin couldn’t help but marvel at how greatly it had all turned out—not because of the food or the table settings, but because of you. You, sitting there in the glow of candlelight, smiling at him like he was the only person in the world.
And when you leaned in to kiss him goodbye at the end of the night, whispering a soft "Thank you, Ani. I had the best time," he knew he’d just scored the main goal - your heart
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TAG LIST: @kingdomhate @divineani @haydensprettyprincess @skyguys-princess @catnipaddictt @heartscone @haydensbbg @inneedsoffanfics @jediavengers @literally-izzy @anisluvrgirl @slutforfinnickodair @xhunnybeeex @fuckmyskywalker @gallerygourmet @ysrjune @anakinskwkler @bimbo-baggins17-deactivated2025 @cookybananas @emotionallybruisedx @diorvalentina @sevinax @throughparisallthroughrome @aniiuv @ritosparty @ninastyless @lily-strnlo @thesassypadawan @awhhayden @sydkneez @anisangeldust @l1ttle-misssunsh1ne @anakinca @rubiesarepretty @luluartpop @nikiloveshayden @cloverina
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motherroam-rs · 1 year ago
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(Not) Broken
NSFW - 18+
Warnings/Tags: Alcohol, Smut, Fingering, Praise Kink, Oral Sex (both male and female receiving)
Relationship: Tech x Fem!Reader
Summary: When a comment from Crosshair has you feeling insecure, Tech offers some assistance in showing you that you’re not broken.
Word count: 4.9k
A/N: big thank you to @shinigami101 for helping me with this as well as @darklightcannon and Sophia for proofreading 🫶
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NSFW Below the cut
You tap your foot against the durasteel floor of the marauder, the walkway extended before you, almost pointing to the cause of your annoyance striding towards it. Crosshair wears a tipsy smirk as he stares up at you, beginning his walk of shame up the steps. From this angle you catch sight of lipstick marks trailing down his neck and disappearing beneath his blacks. So that’s where he’s been.
“You’re late.” Your head shakes disapprovingly, the lasting effects of all the free drinks at 79’s only made you more irritable. You and Crosshair did typically get along - just not when he decided to make you all late for a mission just so he could enjoy having some girl wrapped around him.
“What, jealous?” Crosshair’s taunting voice carries over Wrecker’s snores as you pass by the larger clone slumped over in his chair, he had fallen asleep about twenty minutes prior, when the alcohol at least still had you feeling giddy.
“No, I’m annoyed because now we’re running behind because you decided it would be a good idea to kriff around with a Civ!” You drop yourself into your seat, yanking down the bar to secure yourself, and Crosshair does the same next to you.
Tech, the only one who’s entirely sober, has already begun preparations for take off, eyeing the pair of you between his ritualistic preparations for the Marauders flight. Always the designated pilot, it allowed the rest of you to soak up the drinks at 79’s and sleep them off before you all have to serve your duty in the war. You were thankful of his reliability every time he caught you from stumbling around like a newborn deer, and would wrap his arm around you to guide you back to the safety of the ship on those nights.
“Maybe if it were you, you wouldn’t be so uptight.” His voice is humorous as he knocks his leg with your own, but you’re not in the mood to laugh with him.
“Kriff off, Crosshair.” You bite back before Hunter, despite being the most inebriated out of all of you, finds it in himself to pull out the sergeant card to get the two of you to stop bickering.
Crosshair was right though, you were jealous, but not in the way he thinks. Your mind flashes back to sweating bodies, discomfort, and ultimately - disappointment. Sure, you were still young, and given that you were following these soldiers into battlefields on any given day it didn’t exactly give you the opportunity to meet any men. Despite these factors, you were beginning to think there was something wrong with you.
Not a moment longer past the time you’re safely in hyperspace, you make an exit towards the bunks, not caring for any eyes that may be staring at your back before the door closes.
A soft knock echoes through the room and you take a deep breath as you hit the control panel, ready to tell Crosshair to go wash away the heavy smell of cheap perfume that now lingered in the cockpit, but the door opens to reveal someone else.
“It is just me.” He steps inside and you move back to the bunk, flopping down onto your back with as much grace as a bird shot from the sky. He closes the door behind him and takes a seat on his bunk, directly across from your own.
“Where are the others?” You’re surprised none of them have rushed in yet to claim their bunks for the night.
“They are already asleep,” Tech informs you, fiddling with his gloves in the absence of the data pad usually present in his hands. “You are upset.”
“Yes.” You confirm with a huff.
“Because of Crosshair's comment on your lack of sexual activity?” Credits to him, he had it right. Any of the others would have guessed it was just the delay the sniper had caused you, but not Tech. Despite his aversion to most people, he did understand you, and you liked to think you did in return.
“Why are you here, Tech?” You roll onto your front and groan into your pillow, which of course being GAR issued, barely muffles the noise.
“Why are you upset?” Tech sounds genuinely confused at your misery.
“Because it’s embarrassing?” You half laugh at his question.
“Because you have not engaged in intimate activities since-“ You cut him off before he can make you feel any worse about the night in question, how he had bumped into a man who never even got the opportunity to get out of his own pants. You remember how Tech had actually blushed, and was unable to make eye contact with you the whole next rotation.
“Because I can’t,” The words are spilling out to your friend before you can stop them, the alcohol in your brain only making them slip out easier. “I’m broken, Tech.” You pull yourself up to sit on the edge of the bunk to mirror him, the room spinning as you do so.
“I..” Tech pauses, his eyes momentarily flicking downwards to your thighs as he adjusts his goggles. “I am afraid I do not understand what you mean.”
“I’m not having this conversation with you right now.” You let yourself fall back onto the bunk once more, “I just can’t… finish.”
“Ah, you cannot achieve an orgasm.” The realisation in Tech’s voice makes your face burn.
“Oh maker.” You rip the pillow out from under your head and instead pull it over your face, as if you were a child hiding from an imaginary monster. But instead you’re just wishing the void of space would swallow you whole and save you from this conversation with Tech.
“It is nothing to be embarrassed about, would you say it is because your previous sexual partners were unsatisfactory or do you believe you are experiencing physical-“ He begins to reel off questions, each one making your face burn hotter.
This was not a conversation you wanted to be having with anyone on the team, let alone Tech, who would now just look at you as a broken part to a ship begging to be fixed.
“Tech!” You cut him off. “Just, leave, please?” You plead into the pillow, hoping he’s understood you.
You can’t see him, but you hear the soft creak of the bunk, and footsteps leading towards a door which opens with a soft whoosh.
He pauses, “I thought you wanted my help.” He lingers for a moment, until he’s sure you won’t respond, before leaving you once more.
Following the next mission, once you and Crosshair begrudgingly made up over Caf and teasing Hunter for being a lightweight before the batch and yourself as their medic head into battle, the Marauder is silent. For once, there is no bickering between the brothers, all of them having left to enjoy some local festivities on the planet you were stationed on for this evening. The only noise echoing throughout the bunks is the faint buzz of a vibrator and your shallow breaths.
You had it perfect, you’d showered, read a book to clear your mind, and even had a small glass of corellian whiskey to yourself. You’d received the bottle as a thank you for aiding an injured civilian and meant to save it for a special occasion, but something inside you said now was as good a time as any, especially considering the odd blaster bolt that came too close for comfort over the last few rotations.
All of the effort seems to be for nothing as you twist your free hand in the sheet, not in pleasure, but at irritation of your struggle for release. The other hand circles the edge of the vibrator over your clit, occasionally dipping down in an attempt to push it inside of you, but you’re not nearly relaxed or wet enough.
You’re so caught up in your frustration that you don’t hear the knock on the door, and the only warning you get to cover yourself comes from the light flooding into the room from the cockpit.
You jump upright, clutching the thin blanket to your bare chest and rip the vibrator away from between your legs.
“Oh,” Tech stammers from the doorway, still armoured and only lacking his helmet and gloves, his face flushed red. “I believe I have interrupted you.” Seemingly unsure of what to do, he slams his hand to the control panel, locking you both in the warm room.
“Yes.” You gulp, heart racing in your chest, fumbling to turn off the vibrator while it continues to buzz, as if it were laughing at you for your inability to cum.
“Any luck?”
Is he seriously asking you if you came?
“Tech.” You give a light warning, finally managing to switch off the device.
He gives you a questioning look, and you groan, sliding down against the mattress in defeat “No.”
Maybe it was the built up tension in you, or the fact you had a few drinks prior to your attempts but suddenly the confession works its way out of your throat.
“It’s just so frustrating, no matter what I do it’s not enough!” Tears threaten to fall and you scrunch your eyes closed.
“As I said before, I could help if you let me.” His voice is soft, level.
“How?” Your eyes open with an empty laugh and you find yourself staring at him, “Sorry, but I don’t exactly think the basic med training covers women’s intimacy issues, I know mine didn’t.”
“Perhaps I can find out the cause of your issue, if you will allow me to look.” He suggests, kneeling next to the bunk, his tone as casual as if he were discussing an issue with the Marauder.
“You want to watch me?” The words sound even more ridiculous aloud. Tech was your closest friend on the team, surely this would be crossing every line possible.
Tech looks at you with soft eyes full of reassurance, as if reading your thoughts, “I promise that nothing will change between us.”
His gaze is fixed on yours and something in his eyes makes the protest die on your tongue, his hand covers your own that is gripping the blanket to your chest. It feels warm and comforting, and your heart slows at the contact. His other hand presses on top of your knee that peeks out of the blanket, and you can’t recall a time he’s ever touched you with such purpose.
You pause for a moment, suppressing a shiver at the way his thumb brushes comforting circles on your knee, and take the opportunity to look into his eyes, searching for any hint of hesitation. Finding none, with the help of the whiskey you exhale your concerns, ripping off the proverbial bacta patch as you allow him to pull the blanket away from your bare body.
When you close your eyes in a mixture of arousal and embarrassment at Tech seeing you this way, you miss the way that his own widen in slight surprise and adoration, before darkening with lust.
He gives an encouraging nod as he applies light pressure to the inside of your knees, guiding them apart. If he feels any of the embarrassment that you do now, he certainly doesn’t show it with his gaze fixed between your legs.
“To begin, I would like for you to attempt to make yourself orgasm.” Your eyes snap open again, stomach tensing at his request. “Breathe, dear, it’s just us.”He quickly calms you, continuing to brush his thumb on your knee, and seats himself at the end of your bunk.
It’s just Tech, you’re friends, it’s not weird, he’s here to help you. You remind yourself, drawing a breath at his expectant eyes before trailing a hand down your body, which is entirely bare despite the fact that Tech remains near fully armoured. You think you hallucinate the small gasp from the end of the bunk when your fingers reach their destination, dragging slow circles on your clit.
“Would you like me to record this? I know that I typically record everything without asking but I need your consent in this situation.” His offer is uncharacteristically fast for the man who is used to keeping a level head in the middle of battle.
You bite your lip, your head already nodding before your brain can formulate an answer, and your cheeks flush at how the knowledge of Tech recording you makes your stomach tighten and wetness coat your fingers.
You withdraw your hand from between your legs, waiting as he presses the button on the side of his goggles and a small red light assures you it’s recording. “Continue what you were doing before.” He instead presses the vibrator to your open hand, turning the device on.
“Remember what I just told you, dear, breathe.” Tech reassures you once again when your breath begins to quicken. He keeps one hand on your knee as the other guides your own to position the vibrator on your clit, and you suck in a sharp breath at the contact, suppressing the moan begging to be heard.
“It is just us here, you do not have to silence yourself.” Tech's voice is hushed, but still floods your ears. The sound of it only makes you tighten around nothing.
You try to tell him that you can’t, that it’s bad enough that you’re in this situation, but that he’s helping you with it. Tech, your teammate, your friend. But, you’re not given much choice when he guides your own hand to add pressure with the vibrator, “Tech!”
You swear you hear his breath hitch at the unrestrained cry, or perhaps it’s your own.
“Very good.” He withdraws his hand.
Has his voice always sounded that tense?
You continue your movements, allowing your head to fall back on the thin pillow which seems to be the only thing grounding you to the real world at this moment. You let out a small moan when the bunk creaks and a bare hand presses to your inner thigh, forcing one of your legs into a position that will allow him a better view.
“It seems you are approaching an orgasm.” He encourages, leaning forward in quiet awe. You don’t respond, you already know what’s coming, just as you’re steps away from the precipice, the fire diminishes, leaving your body flushed and unsatisfied.
“That’s what I mean, Tech.” Your eyes finally settle on him between your legs, and despite your failed attempt to cum, you involuntarily tighten. You switch off the vibrator, discarding it on the bunk, but Tech raises his hand to catch your wrist before you can pull the covers over your naked form.
“Fascinating,” You’re about to kick him away at that, until his next statement renders your body useless. “May I try?” Techs hand guiding your own was one thing, but for him to use his own on you has your heart going faster than a pod race. You don’t know what’s possessed you, but your body responds before your mind has made its decision and you’re giving him a small nod.
He waits a moment, eyes searching your face for any sign of hesitation, before he’s leaning back to take his position between your legs, which had closed again on instinct.
“Please, relax for me.” He gently pulls apart your thighs, his fingers immediately moving upwards, lightly grazing over the soft skin.
“You appear to be wet enough, no issue there.” His thumb smears the fluid up your slit to your clit, opening you up in one motion and you gasp. Your hands find purchase in your bedsheets, and it takes every bit of control in you to not chase after his hand with your hips.
“No lessened sensation either, good.” He mumbled to himself but you can barely hear him over your own heartbeat as he moves to drag slow circles around your clit with his thumb, earning him another moan from you. At the noise, you catch Tech briefly adjusting his codpiece, suddenly looking uncomfortable.
“Tech?” Even in battle you’ve never been so breathless, and he gives a strained hum of acknowledgment, his middle finger dipping back down to circle your entrance.
“You can take it off if it’s - ah!” The words are stolen when his finger sinks into you effortlessly, and your hand grips the metal edge of the bunk while your brain scrambles to find the end of the sentence. “If you’re uncomfortable.”
He doesn’t respond verbally, but the soft click of his codpiece being released signals that he’s heard you, and he presses his hips back to the mattress. Once certain you have adjusted, he adds another finger, working them inside you with a scissoring motion that has you chanting his name in a breathless prayer.
You become increasingly aware of how he’s grinding himself into the mattress with every strangled moan and whimper he can pull from you, slipping from his usual control.
You can barely begin to form words at this point beyond his name, your senses instantly zeroing in on the harsh warm breath fanning across your exposed cunt as his fingers withdraw from you. You barely get a moment to glance at his head between your thighs before his lips press to your clit, tongue darting out to taste you.
“Is this okay?” Tech’s voice is rough, nearing Crosshair levels of hoarse.
“Maker, yes Tech.” You practically sob, and just as your mouth utters his name, he’s diving in, tongue exploring you like a man starved. At the intensity of the sensation, your thighs threaten to close around his head, but he’s fast to hitch one of your legs over his shoulder while pinning the other one down to keep you open for him.
A thin layer of sweat forms on your skin as your hands tightly grip the sheets at his attention to your cunt. First, he’s zeroing in on your clit, licking and sucking in a way that almost has you in tears, before he moves down to dip inside you, tasting you, and then repeats the process.
The orgasm is approaching fast like a wave threatening to break at shore, but then the tide begins to recede. Tech seems to sense this, pulling back and releasing your clit with a wet noise that seems to echo through the empty room.
”Look at me, Mesh’la.” Tech demands and you meet his burning gaze. Through the flames in his goggle framed eyes, you find encouragement. He wants you to watch him. Once he’s sure you’re focused on him, he returns his mouth to your cunt, sucking your clit into his mouth whilst delving two fingers inside.
You don’t know what possesses you to make the offer, whether it be the haze of pleasure in your mind, or the way his hips continue to rut into the mattress, but it spills from your lips without any filter “Tech, I can help you too- Kriff!” He sucks particularly hard at this before releasing you so he can listen to your offer, “But I’m not sure how to take care of us both at once, or if you want to…” you gesture down to his erection straining against his blacks, “Help your own situation?”.
You practically see the cogs whir in his mind, and he sits up, beginning to rid himself of his armour. “Stand up.” He orders, and despite the way your legs shake, you obey the order, gripping the upper bunk for support.
You stare at Tech, slightly confused, and a small smile graces his lips, still coated with evidence of your arousal. He’s bare from the waist up, and his hands now make steady work of removing his lower blacks in one swift motion. Your attention is caught by the sight of his cock standing proud against his tanned abdomen. You knew biologically there is some correlation between height and the size, and with Tech being tall that he would be above average, but your lips fall open at the length. You still weren’t sure what he had in mind, but you’re suddenly unsure you can handle it.
“Do not be intimidated, Cyar’ika, I will help you.” One hand reaches to your jaw, brushing a thumb along it almost lovingly while the other settles on your hips, pulling you down onto the bunk with him. Both hands are now slipping below your thighs, pulling you into a position so that you’re straddling his chest, facing towards the foot of the bunk, facing his cock.
So this is what his solution is.
“Move closer.” Tech’s grip on your hips is as firm as his voice when he tugs you up to his mouth, hot breath fanning across your cunt in another soft warning before his tongue runs over your slit in one strong motion.
Tech seems to be paying attention to the way your legs shake from the effort of holding yourself up, because one of his hands extends to your upper back, pushing you into a position where your breasts press to his stomach. At this new angle, you’re fully seated on his face, and you’re able to wrap a curious hand around his girth to give his cock an experimental tug. The moan that reverberates against your cunt has you sending a thank you to the maker that Hunter wasn’t nearby to overhear the methods his brother was using on you to assist with your predicament.
Tech’s cock is now inches from your lips and you marvel at it momentarily before allowing your tongue to run over the head, beginning to move your hand to at least grant him some relief. He jolts, groaning, and you pull back.
“Are you okay - am I hurting you?” In your limited experience with this, you’d never had any complaints, but now you worry that your partners just didn’t want to hurt your feelings.
“No!” He protests immediately, as if you were asking him if he’d like to be executed, “You’re not hurting me, please continue.”
At his insistence, your tongue licks another wet circle over the weeping head of Tech’s cock, and his thighs tense at the effort not to thrust into your mouth. You appreciate the sign of restraint from him and you tighten your hand around the base of his cock, finally taking him into your mouth. The taste and smell of him intoxicate you, igniting memories of every time you’ve stood just an inch too close to each other to the point you could practically inhale his calming presence.
You would be lying to yourself if you said you hadn’t thought this before, being here, with him. Suppressed thoughts rise to your mind and you close your eyes to bask in the moment with him, like it’s a dream that will be ripped from you.
Due to his impressive length, your lips are barely touching your fingers by the time he hits your throat and you release a drawn out moan, muffled by his cock. He sucks your clit into his mouth at this action, bringing tears to your eyes from the overwhelming stimulation.
You feel him draw his hips back, sliding out of your mouth and allowing you to take a breath before giving a short thrust in to stop at the back of your throat, which causes drool to begin leaking down his exposed cock and on your fingers.
Soon enough, the pair of you are a sight that would make a brothel patron blush. Tech continues his measured thrusts into your mouth and you take it with a moan when he begins to work you on his fingers once more. You can feel yourself practically dripping down his chin, and your stomach begins to tense - until the expected disappointment. Just as you begin to approach that high, it seems to pull further and further away from you once more.
Not again.
Tech seems to have read your mind and agreed with a strained “No,” as he pulls away from your cunt, but the room still echoes with the wet sound of his fingers scissoring into your heat.
“I need your full focus, I will not fail you at this Mesh’la.” He lifts you off his face and you release his throbbing cock from your lips. His grip is firmer than before, likely from the mounting frustration at his incomplete task, as he pulls you to face him. In this new position, you’re straddling him and you can feel the press of his cock to your inner thigh.
“Do you trust me?” There’s determination in his eyes, as if you’re a piece of the Marauder that he needs to fix.
“Always, Tech.” His eyes soften momentarily at this, but he reminds himself of the task at hand and with a speed you’ve only seen him use in battle, he’s flipped you both so you’re pinned underneath him once more.
Now that he’s above you, his length seems even more daunting and your hand grips his shoulder when you feel the head of his cock press to your entrance. Your whole body seems to tense, and you can’t help but dig your nails to his shoulder, which brings his eyes to yours.
“Shh, Mesh’la, that’s it, relax.” Tech’s voice is gentle but authoritative as he instructs you, pressing a kiss to your jaw. Even with his thorough preparation of your body, the stretch as he enters you is overwhelming, and yet, it’s better than anything you’ve ever felt. You had been preparing for the usual pain and discomfort, but this was on the opposite end of the scale.
“Breathe for me Cyar’ika,” he presses another kiss just below your ear and his voice sounds almost strangled. “That’s it, good girl.” He pulls out ever so slightly before rocking his hips back into yours, delving deeper into you.
“Just a little more, I promise, you can take it, you’re-“ a low groan sounds in his throat and you feel his lips ghost against the edge of your ear. “Taking me so kriffing well already.”
Is this the first time you’ve ever heard Tech swear?
He’s entirely inside you and the fullness is now euphoric. Tan skin is coated with a sheen of sweat that makes him look almost angelic, his lips and cheeks flushed from the effort of holding back from pushing you too far when he begins to rock his hips into yours.
A string of Mando’a curses tumble from his mouth as he falls into a rhythm of slow thrusts, keeping the pace your body needs to chase its high that hasn’t quite worn off from all the previous work his mouth set you up for. The precipice is no longer escaping you, he’s keeping you there, dangling you over the edge of it whilst simultaneously grounding you to him.
The room echoes with every gasp, thrust, and moan. It’s some kind of erotic orchestra conducted by Tech to encourage you along, and it’s working. One of his hands tangles in your hair, pulling your head to the side so he can press wet, open mouthed kisses against your pulse point.
Every action that Tech’s making, no matter how small, has you more intoxicated than any drug in existence, and your legs tighten impossibly around his hips in an attempt to keep him close to you. To help you let go.
“It’s okay, you can let go for me, Cyar’ika.” Tech’s reassuring words speaking your own thoughts are all you need to push you over the edge. You’re gasping into his shoulder, and you can’t help but bite into the soft skin with a desperate plea of his name. He shudders at this, slamming into you with now uneven thrusts as he buries his face in your neck.
“That’s it, I’ve got you.” Tech is coherent enough to be guiding you through your own release, despite being overcome with his own. His lust laced voice is all you can hear over the overload of your senses, a sharp whisper in your ear to guide you through this new world of pleasure where you tighten around his cock like you’re trying to keep him deep inside you.
It’s a blissful moment, with Tech entirely spent between your legs, tears rolling down your face and his name still in your mouth. It’s a moment that’s over too soon when he withdraws from you, and you can’t help but moan at the release of fluid between your thighs. Your friend's cum is leaking out of you, only momentarily, because he’s already grabbed his blacks from the end of the bunk to press between your thighs, cleaning the mess from your legs.
“I’ll wash them.” He assures you.
Once satisfied that you’re both taken care of, he lays next to you on the defiled bunk, pulling your half limp body against his. You never thought that Tech would be the kind for intimacy after sex, and yet you can hear his steady heartbeat against your cheek. You’re honoured, almost, for him to hold you like this when he found discomfort in most physical contact.
“I told you that you were not broken, Cyare, I am always correct.” He presses his lips to your forehead, and despite how he’s just brought you to the very brink of what your body could handle, your chest tightens.
Were you broken? No, he’d proven that much. Were you kriffed because of how your heart seems to skip a beat at the small moment of tenderness with your friends lips against your hairline? Yes, you were.
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bifuriouswaterbender · 7 months ago
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Tech Support
I haven't participated in a @steddiemicrofic challenge since February, but I have missed them! Here's the August prompt plug at 437 words with a T rating.
"It's broken," Eddie repeated. "I know you think you're suddenly some kind of tech expert, but my amp won't magically turn on."
Steve sighed. "Dude, I literally sell computers. No expert, but I'm sure I could figure something out with it."
"It's dead as a doorknob," Eddie said. He cocked his head to the side. "Where does that expression come from anyway? Doorknobs were never alive."
"You're getting distracted."
Eddie stuck his tongue out. "Look, it's old. I'm lucky it's lasted this long. I've been slowly saving up because it was only a matter of time."
"Just let me look." Steve let out a long-suffered sigh. "If it is dead, what would it hurt?"
Eddie didn't hesitate at all as he said, "My pride."
Steve snorted. "Is your pride worth the cost of a new amp? And a canceled show tomorrow because you'll never get a new one that fast?"
Eddie shrugged. "Probably not." He slowly stepped aside. "Fine, oh wise tech guy! Fix my amp."
As Steve walked around him, Eddie muttered, "This should be good," but Steve staunchly ignored him. He was used to Eddie's dramatics.
Steve stood over the amp as he considered his options. He didn't know enough about the hardware to try and peel away panels or yank at the internal mechanisms. Eddie had been right that a little basic computer repair didn't come close to understanding how complicated musical equipment worked. Still, the computer had to be the more complex of the two, right? It didn't hurt anything but his own pride if he couldn't figure it out.
That little pep talk handled, Steve knelt next to the amp. He considered it for a moment, studying the knobs on the front before feeling around for any hidden buttons. His fingers wrapped around something at the back, and Steve paused.
He turned back to where Eddie had leaned against the wall for a smoke break. "Solved your problem."
Eddie waved his cigarette before dropping it. "Doesn't look like it's on to me. You didn't fix it just because you declared that you fixed it."
"No," Steve agreed, "but I bet it turns on when I plug this in."
Eddie gaped as he wiggled the cord back and forth. "You're shitting me!"
Steve laughed as he moved through the steps Eddie had forgotten, grinning at the hum of amp and speaker crackling to life together. "Sorry, babe. Sometimes it just takes an expert."
Eddie glared, even as he moved forward to wrap his arms around Steve. "Smart ass." He pressed a quick kiss to Steve's nose, an apology or thanks Steve didn't know.
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takes1 · 3 months ago
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libero!reader confessing to aone takanobu
apologies if there's more grammatical errors in this than usual; i wrote and formatted it on my phone while rotting in bed in order to self soothe and ignore cramps
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warnings. none, sfw
details. fem!reader / aone fluff / setting friends up together / forced crush confession / a squabble / aone is a huge / libero!reader / date tech girls' team!reader / aone being shy / reader being shy / a bit of comedy / 2.4k words
links. my masterlist. more haikyuu. my ao3. requests open.
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It was after school, at the end of a long and tiring practice, when things started flying off the rails and spiraling out of your control.
"So, you know how you said you had a crush on Aone?" One of your teammates began.
Of course you remembered; your team basically forced you to say it aloud for the first time at practice yesterday. It was only by accident that they realized, but a stranger would have assumed you told them you had superpowers or something by how excited they all got.
It was a lot of commotion for a secret you were more than comfortable keeping.
"Well, we thought it would be good to tell him. The guys will be here in a few minutes, so you'll have the chance."
Your heart started pounding again, like you were about to get back onto the court- Was this a joke?
"What?" The word slipped from you, dumb and toneless, as you glanced back and forth between members of your team for the punchline that never came.
"No, I'm- I told you I'm not going to tell him. That's not happening." You shook your head, but nobody was looking at you.
They were all looking to each other, like you had ruined their plans.
Your team captain shrugged, "If you're not going to do it yourself, I'll have to carry you."
Your body automatically lurched away from her grab, mind elsewhere and racing, but stumbled back into a few of your other teammates. When you tried to hide behind them, they lunged at you and successfully grabbed three of your limbs to drag you towards the designated delivery woman.
Was everybody part of this? Surely somebody didn't agree with a confession of this nature.
"No! No, nonono, please-!"
A loud, uncontrollable squeak cut your own words off as you felt your body getting lifted from the floor by multiple teammates, legs first.
Upside down, you could see the boys team filing into the gym from the door. That meant he was here. That meant they knew, too. None of the guys were ever here for practice this early. A rush of adrenaline clouded your brain and strengthened your tired muscles.
"Help me!" You screamed to your fellow libero- to your horror, you found that she was giggling under her palm. Even she was in on it.
"Get off of me!" Your pleas were worse than ignored- they were laughed at.
Perhaps they were laughing at this position you got wrestled into, instead. You prayed none of the guys, filling up the other side of the gym, were watching.
She had half your thighs, half your hips in her arms, groin-to-groin and dragging you backwards like a tiny wheelbarrow while you used your hands to grab at smooth wooden panels. It was useless except for making a screeching, squeaky floor sound.
When you realized you were creating zero fight with your upper body, you settled on making the sound worse by simply flattening your palms and begging.
The gym filled with the noise of your hands dragging: SKREEEEEEEEEEECHHHH-!
Under it, you kept on, "Pleeeeeaaaaase! Please!"
Some teammates called to you. Versions of 'It's good for you,' 'You'll thank us later,' 'You need to put yourself out there,' all fell on deaf ears.
If this was really good for you, you'd be doing it by yourself. You just weren't ready to face him. Maybe you never would be, and you were completely fine with that. It wasn't their decision to make. Not in the slightest. Putting up so much of a fight wasn't necessarily intentional, but you hoped that it would at least make a statement.
"Shit- Somebody help me get her on my shoulder, I'm about to break my back," Your Captain grunted.
"I got it!"
"I'm comin'!"
You tried to take advantage of the quick softening of her grip, making a scurry-like attempt to crawl away, but only got grabbed by the ankles.
With three girls, and a lot of yelling, you were hoisted up onto her shoulder. She took your weight like it was nothing.
You grabbed the first person you could, which happened to be your setter, and tried to rationalize as quickly as you could:
"I would never do this to you!! I'm not ready! I can't do this- please don't make me tell him- I've never done anything--," Your clammy, clenched fingers were pried, one by one, from her jersey by three other teammates, "-wrong!! N-o!!!"
You swung forward and hit her back, eyes cast downward at the floor that was now multiple feet away. There was nothing to cling to anymore. You hung limp on your Captain's shoulder.
Your team trailed further behind so as to not get nabbed, in 'support' of the whole ordeal.
They stood a few feet away to watch when you were at your destination.
"Delivery! For Takanobu," Was sung sweet and evil, even more-so when she patted you on the butt before setting you back down.
The thought to retaliate again crossed your mind, but when she straightened back up to six feet, you felt like a deflated balloon. That was a lot of struggle already. You wouldn't even win a one-on-one.
You were spun around, given only a moment to fully realize how big Aone was up-close. You never got within 20 feet of him before. Sure, you watched their games religiously and tried to sneak in some staring in class, but since confession was never your goal, there was no strategic advantage to being anywhere near him.
'Oh my god.' Was ghosted under your breath while she introduced you.
"--And she has something to tell you."
A little nudge before she backed away.
Your big, terrified eyes trailed up his big form, but instead of collecting yourself like you intended, you found ten other guys behind him watching, muttering to each other and snickering.
This was like an intervention, or at least planned out behind your back like one. Did everybody know? Did Aone know?
"She's- hahaha- so- Ha! Teeny-tiny!" From Koganegawa, who didn't try to keep quiet like the others.
That specifically bothered you, because he was just a big, dumb freshman who couldn't even set right. Your face grew warm and you wouldn't have been able to speak, even if you wanted to.
"Could you be quiet?"
Aone's voice was a shock not only to you, but everyone. He wasn't mean with his request, though his face would indicate he was immensely upset at his junior.
Futakuchi quickly ushered away the rest of the guys' team- yours followed suit, now aware of how meddling and rude they were, disinclined to be subject to another rare and firm sentence. It felt like everyone was beginning to be normal again and you were left dazed at how many conversations they must've had during the past 12 hours of your crush being public knowledge.
You had to skip the pleasantries since they had already been completed for you.
"How much-..." You cleared your tightening throat and gathered your courage again, "How much did they tell you?"
He had such strong, masculine features. You could see the way his lips naturally curled into a permanent frown, and how his mouth tightened more into a straight line when he was thinking.
"Not... too much," Was a quiet, empathizing response.
With his hands clasped politely in front of himself, he took a lot of his intimidation factor away. Unfortunately, it didn't help why you were nervous, now.
"Can we go outside?" You threw a glance over your shoulder to the giant huddle, 20 feet away, desperately still trying to listen to your conversation, "It's a little stuffy in here."
Aone nodded immediately and walked side-by-side with you out of the gym. It was cooler, and you felt less pressure to say anything now that you were completely alone.
That meant that it was silent, for at least a few minutes. You both strolled into the grass to get away from any threat of being listened to or watched. You stood watching the sun dip lower into the evening sky, listening to the birds, appreciating the quiet to gather your thoughts.
"I've liked you for a long time." You sighed.
You weren't looking at him, so it felt easy to let it go. He turned to you, and you braced yourself for the possibility of a polite rejection.
"I can't hear you," Aone said over the small breeze.
You hung your head with a grimace- great. You had to repeat yourself.
When you turned towards him, began your admission again, he made a face so you stopped short.
That's when he crouched down- your hands flew to your mouth to stop yourself from making too big of an expression. It was silent for just a moment before you both started giggling.
Aone was really cute when he smiled, and his laugh was even cuter- unrestrained, small but boyish and crackly. You tried your best to remember it well.
"I-," You sighed, hands rubbing together in front of you, "Really like you. I've liked you since freshman year."
Your confession didn't bring as much surprise to his face as revealing how long it had been going for.
"You're a second-year, right?"
You nodded, squinting a little at his oddly-timed question.
He looked past you, thinking again. As he did, his pale face grew redder and redder. You tried to keep yourself from smiling at how obvious it was when he was blushing.
Now he was quiet, "I'm sorry. I didn't know who you were before today--,"
It didn't hurt your feelings the way he implied it might. That was the point in dodging him for so long, so you felt validated in your efforts to keep it so lowkey.
"But-," He took a second to really look at you, all of you, making you hold yourself a little straighter, "I wish I had paid more attention."
You squirmed at his words and under his firm gaze. He made it really obvious where he was looking at all times, and his thoughts made perfectly clear with as few words as he could spare. If he didn't like you back, he would've said so already.
"I- would like to take you out, if that's not too forward," He quickly looked away, the color returning tenfold across his entire face.
Aone was still looking down as he gently proposed, "I know a cafe a few blocks from here we could go to. They have great croissants."
His voice was so even and low. He spoke slowly and quietly, like he'd scare you off if he sped up or said something with too much inflection.
After your whole episode inside, you didn't blame him for thinking you were twitchy.
"That sounds amazing," You covered your mouth with the side of your hand before you could smile too wide. Every word was a little breathy, since this whole conversation left you struggling for air.
"I'm sorry I never noticed you before," He mirrored you unintentionally, a hand rubbing lightly over his warm cheek, "...You're very pretty."
Your heart was beating so hard. Too hard. Your hands were trembling violently, the vein in your neck was pumping the way it did before a match. When you looked away from the ground, it was blurry and you felt warmth running down your face.
"Oh- I didn't- I'm sorry?" He reached out a little, but realized he didn't know what to do and took it back.
"I-I'm so sorry-," Your voice was conversational, but you sniffled and blinked, and all of a sudden tears were flooding over your face.
You laughed, looking around but not identifying much more than shapes and colors, "I don't know why I'm crying-!"
Aone laughed with you, confused but glad you were okay and supposedly in the same boat as him.
"You just make me so nervous," You confessed. It sounded tad too pitiful.
The statement made him sink a little into the grass. He felt guilty for making you cry and tried to mend it by using his jacket sleeves to help wipe your tears away.
"I know I look scary, but I promise I'm not--,"
"Ohh, no," You sniffled again, face still burning at his gesture, finally drying up a little, "It's not because of that. I don't think you look scary."
Your vision was returning to you enough to watch his interest pique. He looked confused, and you had already put everything on the table, so you began to explain.
The chance was fleeting, though, because a mixed crowd of both of your teams had stormed outside, surrounding both of you in a few quick seconds.
"Hey, you big brute! Back off my libero!" Your captain was loudest among them.
Aone stood up right away, but his confusion was worse now.
"Why're you making her cry, man?" Was Futakuchi from his team. "You told me you were down!"
The girls quickly circled you and cut you off from Aone. It was a different vibe entirely than what they had done minutes earlier.
Many hands were drying the rest of your face before you could say anything, pinching, grabbing affectionately and telling you to come with them to get away from here.
The guys were pushing on Aone, specifically Futakuchi, who seemed the most upset.
"What are you doing-?" You questioned, only able to resist the pushing so much.
If there was anything you had learned from today, it was that your team was full of incredibly strong women.
There was so much chatter, so many people talking over you and a lot of conversation you couldn't quite hear from the guys.
You barely caught Aone explaining, before you pieced together what was happening.
"We're going on a date tomorrow!" You shouted.
Everybody stilled.
Your eyes met Aone's in the midst of the quiet. You called it a date.
Now it was loud with celebration- your friends shook you, leaning down to show you their giant grins and tell you how proud they were. Confessing didn't feel good, but the payoff seemed worth it now.
You called it a date? You hoped that was okay.
The shoves from the male team were friendly now instead of malicious. They tried to pick him up, all shouting and chanting, but quickly abandoned the idea when they realized they would need more -and bigger- guys for a task of that nature.
You called it a date. Was it a date?
It had to be. He called you pretty, afterall.
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♕VIP♕
@integers @yuchacco
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Sweeter Than Revenge Part 1
Fandom: Twisters, Tyler Owens, f!reader, Scott's Sister!reader Summary: When you try to surprise your brother with a visit in the hopes of mending your strained relationship, it does not go as planned. Rudely dismissed by Scott, you decide to get a little revenge. And who better to do it with than the head Tornado Wrangler himself... Word Count: 3509 TW: Family Conflict, Brief Mention of Reader's Clothes/Breasts, Unsucessful Flirting, Language Notes: A massive thank you to @blue-aconite and @green-socks for reading this over for me and for all the constant support! And to @mayhem24-7forever for always answering my late-night panicked messages
Divider created by me (please ask/credit before using)
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Grabbing your backpack off the seat beside you, you stood and joined the crowd of passengers making their way to the front of the bus. You stopped to let an elderly couple join the line in front of you and used the momentary pause to glance out the window at your destination. A small diner in need of a fresh coat of paint and a good window washing sat off to the left while several rows of gas pumps were lined up on the right. Trucks, vans, campers, and SUVs filled almost every parking spot and spilled into the grassy field around the lot. Some vehicles were ancient, rusted machines that barely looked driveable while others were so fresh and high-tech they could have just been driven off a lot. Those were the vehicles you were looking for.
Stepping off the bus, you headed towards the group of four shiny new vehicles on the other end of the parking lot. On the way, your head was on a constant swivel as you took in everything around you: a middle-aged couple arguing loudly about who forgot to tie down the lawn chairs the last time they stopped, a somewhat familiar-looking man in a cowboy hat unloading a piece of equipment from his huge red truck while another long-haired man filmed him, a woman with dreadlocks fiddling with a remote control only for a large drone to drop out of the sky a moment later and land at her feet, a few children racing towards the diner with their exasperated mother trailing behind yelling at them to watch where they were going. 
It was utter chaos and you loved it already. 
As you approached the vehicles, you saw the Storm PAR logos printed on the sides and breathed a sigh of relief that after this sixth bus stop, you had finally tracked them down. You still didn’t see who you were looking for, so you walked up to a man with dark curly hair wearing a white button-down Storm PAR shirt who was currently crouched down examining a weird solar panel-looking piece of equipment set up next to one of the vans. As you cleared your throat, he looked up from the machine and blinked, as if he was shocked to see someone standing there despite the crowds of people around him. Glancing around, he asked, “Um…can I help you?”
You guess you shouldn’t be too surprised by his reaction. In your cut-off shorts, boots, and halter top, you looked like you should be hanging out one of the trucks you passed when you first got off the bus, not the polished, company polo shirt-wearing tech heads milling around the Storm PAR vehicles. And you didn’t even want to know what your hair and makeup looked like after four hours on that poorly air-conditioned packed bus. 
So, instead of taking offense at this guy’s slightly dismissive tone, you smiled as you adjusted the backpack on your shoulder. “Hi. I’m looking for Scott.”
The man glanced over his shoulder but made no move to stand up. “He’s here but he’s in the middle of some data calculations. Can I help you with something?”
“Not really. I had time off college and he mentioned you guys were having a really active season so I figured why not come out and see all this in action.” The man was still looking at you like he couldn’t understand why you were talking to him and you suddenly realized you hadn’t explained the most important detail. “Fuck, I’m sorry. I guess I should have mentioned, Scotty’s my older brother.”
Instantly, the man’s demeanor shifted and a huge toothy smile spread across his face. “Oh! You should have led with that. Nice to meet you.”
Rising to his feet, he stuck out his hand and you shook it, officially introducing yourself. When he said his name was Javi Rivera and it was your turn for things to click into place. “Javi! You’re Scotty’s business partner, right? He’s told me about you.”
Javi let your hand drop and his eyes shifted towards his equipment once more. “Really? Well, um, you know, I’ve, uh, heard great things about you too.”
You grinned, grabbing onto the straps of your backpack. “Scotty never even mentioned he had a sister, did he?” Javi gave a slight shrug, still not looking directly at you and you laughed. “Yeah, that sounds like him. Never wants to get personal, everything’s about business with him. To be honest, I don’t see or hear from him that much which is just another reason I figured I’d come surprise him when I had the chance. Plus, I read some research Scotty left lying around last time he came home and it was really interesting. I’m excited to be able to see what you guys do firsthand.” 
“Well, I’m sure Scotty will be glad to see you. Let me go grab him.”
Javi turned and disappeared into one of the vans. A moment later, he returned with your brother following closely behind. “Javi, I was in the middle of some important calculations. Why did I have to–” Scott stumbled to a stop as he saw you standing there.
Since he was a teenager, Scott had mastered the art of keeping his emotions hidden. He could be fuming mad, joyously happy, or heartbrokenly sad, and in each case keep the same perfect mask on his face. However, you knew his one tell. No matter how hard he tried, he couldn’t keep the emotion out of his eyes. And right now, you could practically see flames burning within them. 
For the first time, you wondered if coming to see him had been such a good idea. Shifting from one foot to the other, you tried to force a smile as you half-heartedly held out your arms. “Surprise.”
Scott remained rooted to the spot, his only movement the constant forceful chewing of his gum. Javi glanced back and forth between the two of you, the smile slowly draining from his face. Hesitantly, he explained, “She said she was your sister so I figured…”
A cultivated smile spread across Scott’s lips but it didn’t reach his eyes as they continued to burn into yours. “No, it’s all good. I’m just surprised to see her.” Without breaking eye contact, he held his tablet out to Javi who took it from him. “Give me a few minutes to talk to her and then I’ll get back to those numbers.”
Javi started to protest, assuring him there was no rush and he could take his time, but Scott had already closed the distance between you. Grabbing your arm tightly to the point of slight painfulness, he guided you past the rest of the Storm PAR vehicles and into the empty field. 
Once you were far enough away that you knew none of his co-workers could hear you, you wrenched your arm from his grasp, snapping, “Get off of me!”
“What the hell are you doing here?” he growled, his mask finally slipping as his nostrils flared and lips curled into a snarl.
“Well, hello to you too!” You examined your arm where he had grabbed you, massaging it gently. “Can’t a girl come visit her big brother?”
“Not when she wasn’t invited or even asked if she could come beforehand! What were you thinking? This isn’t one of your wild party vacations. This is my job!”
“I know that. I wasn’t expecting you to drop everything and take me sightseeing. I just thought I could hang around and watch you guys in action. I’ve read some of the research you left at Christmas and I was hoping maybe I could learn a little more about it.”
Scott shook his head, his hands on his hips. “This is our busiest time of the season. I don’t have time to babysit you.”
“What do you think I am? Eight? I don’t need you to babysit me. I told you, I’m interested in what you do and thought I could just hang around and see how it all works.” You shrugged, “Maybe you could even take me on a chase or two.”
“Hell no. I won’t have you getting scared and causing us to have to turn around in the middle of a storm run. Javi and I have worked too hard to get this company to where it is and I’m not going to let you ruin that because, on a whim, you thought it would be fun to see a storm.” Scott scoffed as he rolled his eyes. “It’s so typical of you to still think that just because you want something or because Mom and Dad will pay for it, everyone else will bend over backward to accommodate you. Well, I don’t have to put up with your bullshit anymore.”
You took several deep breaths and tried to keep your anger in check. This was not at all how you thought this would go, but lashing out right now would only make things worse. So, in a calm, steady voice, you tried to shift approaches. “Scotty, we haven’t spent any real time together since you left for MIT. And back then…I’m not proud of the person I was and I can’t imagine what that must have been like for you. But I was a kid who didn’t know any better! I’ve grown up since you left. And this trip isn’t just something I thought would be fun to do ‘on a whim’. I worked hard to save up the money to come here because I wanted to see you and spend time with you—however little time you may be able to work into your schedule. And I promise I won’t get scared or make you stop your chase. If I don’t like it, I’ll suck it up until it’s over then not ask to go again.” Taking a step forward, you gently placed your hand on his arm and gave him a timid smile. “Let me show you who I am now…how much I’ve changed. Please, Scotty.”
But Scott yanked his arm away and took a step back. “I don’t care where you go, but you need to stay away from me and Storm PAR. Now, I have work to do.” He took one last look at you, and, for just a moment, you thought maybe he felt bad for what he said and was reconsidering things. But then, he blew a small bubble with his gum and popped it loudly in your face. You jumped slightly, the sound sharp and startling, before glaring at him. He had been doing that since you were kids and he knew how much you absolutely despised it. Shooting you one last smug smirk, Scott turned and walked off towards the cluster of Storm PAR vehicles. 
You turned to look out into the open field, lip quivering, as you fought against the tears that were burning your eyes. Things between you and Scott had been pretty bad when he left for college, but you hadn’t realized he still really thought so poorly of you. The last few holidays or family events he had been forced to come to, things seemed to be getting a little better. You thought that maybe you had reached a turning point in your relationship. But now it was clear you had been very wrong.
Looking back at the diner and overflow of vehicles, you wondered what you should do now. You had no idea when the next bus came by or how to get a ticket home or if there was a motel nearby you could stay in for the night or how you would even get there if there was or what you would do in the morning or—
UGH! The longer you stared at the Storm PAR logo on the side of the van Scott had disappeared into, the less hurt you felt. Instead, the pain began to shift into outrage. How dare Scott treat you like this? You had spent a lot of money and wasted two weeks of your summer vacation to take this trip to see him. You knew it would involve listening to him drone on about numbers and graphs you could barely comprehend for most of the time, but you were willing to smile, nod, and seem interested to show you cared about what he did. But no! He didn’t even give you a chance to explain yourself or prove that you weren’t here to interfere with his work. He had just torn you down before turning his back on you and walking away. That asshole!
The sun was starting to dip lower in the sky and you realized standing here fuming about Scott wasn’t going to help your situation. You could do that once you found a bus schedule or a place to stay for the night. However, as you stormed back through the parking lot, something caught your eye. 
When you had come through the first time and passed the familiar-looking man and the long-haired guy with the camera, you had only seen their truck from behind. But now that you were looking at the front, you noticed the distinctive metal logo attached to the front of the truck’s grille: a tornado with horns jutting out the top of the vortex. And you realized why the man in the cowboy hat looked familiar. 
Scott might not talk to you very often, but during the instances that he had, you had heard plenty of complaints about Tyler Owens and his group of Tornado Wranglers. Everything they did was the complete opposite of how Storm PAR operated and it drove Scott crazy that while he was out there doing the “real work”, this group of amateur YouTube chasers were the ones getting all the attention and acclaim when all they were really doing was getting in Storm PAR’s way. 
And Scott seemed to have another level of hatred for Owens himself.    
Out of curiosity, you had looked up the Wranglers’ YouTube channel and found it pretty entertaining. While Scott viewed every aspect of his work with complete seriousness and professionalism, these guys tackled the same work like they were having the time of their lives. They were still informative, explaining to their viewers how tornadoes formed and the types of destruction they can cause, but they would then drive straight into the center of a funnel or take chat requests of crazy things to do in the storm. It honestly seemed like a great way to get people excited about learning about tornadoes while also keeping them entertained. And it seemed like their nearly 850,000 followers would agree. No wonder Scott hated them so much. 
Suddenly, you had an idea—the perfect little act of revenge.
Changing directions, you made your way over to Owens’s truck. You could see he was now alone, tinkering with the equipment attached to the bed of his truck. He had traded his white cowboy hat for a faded backward cap and had pushed his sleeves up above his elbows as he worked, his sun-bronzed skin on full display in the dying light.
Though you had only watched a handful of the Tornado Wranglers’ videos, you had a pretty good idea of the kind of man Tyler Owens was and how you could persuade him to help you. After all, these narcissistic, jacked-up truck-driving, overcompensating pretty boys were all the same. The kind who had been fawned and swooned over their entire adult lives just because they flashed a charming smile or a playful wink in the right direction. However, with just a little stroking of their ego or a bat of your eyes, they could become putty in your hands. All you had to do was introduce yourself.
Reaching the side of the truck, you tucked your hands into your back pockets so it thrust your chest forward and, biting your lip, called out coyly, “Hey there, cowboy.”
Owens glanced up, a curious smile curling across his lips as he saw you, his eyes traveling from your head to boot and back up. “Well, hello there.”
Giggling softly as you placed your hand on the side railing, you asked in a sing-songy voice, “You’re Tyler, right? The big...bad…tornado wrangler?” With each word, you walked your fingers across the railing, your eyes locked on his.
He leaned back, wiped his hands on his jeans, and said, “I might be. Depends on who’s asking.” He was still looking at you but his smile had slipped slightly and you realized you might not have grabbed his attention as well as you thought.
Placing both hands on the railing now, you pushed yourself up slightly, your chest pressed together, and you looked up at him from under your lashes. “What if I’m asking?”
Owens stared at you for a long moment, his eyes still examining you thoughtfully, though you were shocked to see they stayed locked on your face and didn’t dip down to your breast like you had expected. Then, finally, he said, “You seem like a nice girl, sweetheart, but I don't think I'm what you're looking for. Good luck though.” He gave you a kind, yet dismissive nod, and went back to whatever he had been working on.
Your jaw dropped, lips moving silently as you tried to figure out what just happened. This kind of thing always worked on guys like him in the past. Show a little skin, stroke their egos a little, and they would be wrapped around your finger in no time. But he hadn’t even given your act more than a passing glance. It was possible you weren’t his type or maybe he was in a committed relationship, but neither of those things had exactly deterred guys in the past. 
You turned around—properly dismissed—and were just about to walk away when another thought crossed your mind. What if…what if you had misjudged him? What if he wasn’t the kind of guy you assumed he was? From what you had seen in his videos, he was cocky and overconfident and a huge flirt, but what if that was all for the cameras? During your very brief interaction, he seemed polite and respectful even as you tried to throw yourself at him, something no other guy had ever done in that situation. 
Maybe you had gone about this all wrong. Maybe you needed a different approach. A more honest one…
You hurried around the other side of the truck so you were in front of him once more. Dropping all the over-the-top flirtatiousness from your voice, you said, “Okay, I’m sorry. I thought…it doesn’t matter what I thought, but the point is I shouldn’t have done that. I’ve had a really shitty day and approached this situation all wrong.”
Owens didn’t raise his head, but his eyes drifted back in your direction. Feeling like he was offering you a chance, you explained, “Listen, the deal is I came here to surprise my brother with a visit, and as soon as he saw me, he told me he doesn’t want me here and I should fuck off out of his way.”
That got his attention. Looking up, his brow furrowed, Owens asked, “Your brother said that to you?”
You rolled your eyes and hit the heel of your palm against the side of the truck. “Well, not in those exact words but the sentiment was there. The point is, he told me he didn’t care where I went as long as I left him and his team alone. So, I plan on respecting his wishes…and wondered if I could hang out with your team instead.”
“Well–” He leaned back, clearly not interested in your request, but you cut him off before he could turn you down.
“Please! It’ll just be for a day or two. I promise not to get in the way or mess with any of your work. I just know he has a problem with you guys and seeing me with you will drive him insane.” 
Putting down the wrench he was holding, Owens shook his head. “Back up…who are we talking about now? Who’s your brother?”
You realized you needed to get better at introducing people into a conversation before jumping right in. “Scott? He works for Storm PAR?” He hesitated so you sighed and turned towards the other group of storm chasers at the other end of the lot. With one hand on your hip, you pointed lazily with the other, “The surly tall one who never takes off his stupid baseball cap?”
Instantly, Owens straightened up and you knew you had piqued his interest. Chuckling, he asked, “Wait, so you’re telling me Mr. Clipboard and Chewing Gum is your brother?” You nodded. “And you want my help messing with him?”
“Yeah, that about sums it up. So, will you do it?”
The cowboy leaned over the side of the truck and gave you a wide grin. “Oh, sweetheart, you’ve come to the right place.”
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Part 2 coming 8/19!
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mechncheese · 2 days ago
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PLEASE LORE DUMP ABOUT SUNSTREAKER TO ME
LET'S SEE.. IDW SUNSTREAKER MR. TRAGEDY HIMSELF.. Wow I have a lot of saved comic panels of him going through it so let's go on a journey together. I'm definitely forgetting details so for idw Sunstreaker knowers please feel free to add on.
SPOILERS. LOTS OF IDW SPOILERS. WOW.
On Earth he was taken by humans, tortured, and basically used for his transforming tech and they made Headmasters out of him. He was forcefully partially fused (?) with his human friend through Headmaster technology.
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Upon being rescued and repaired he still suffers severely from the trauma that the torture had on him. I think he feels disconnected from himself like he can't recognize himself anymore.. AT LEAST THAT'S HOW I INTERPRETED THESE PANELS.
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He makes a deal with Starscream and leads the Autobots into a Decepticon trap but it was because he wanted the humans to suffer for what they did to him and y'know what. I can't blame him, I would be the same way if I had to go through that. I WANT TO ALSO MENTION THAT IRONHIDE ACCUSED MIRAGE OF BEING A TRAITOR (it was Sunstreaker) AND ABSOLUTELY BEATS THE SHIT OUT OF MIRAGE OH MY GOD. He tears apart Mirage's Autobot badge and tells him he doesn't deserve to wear it. After finding out the truth, Ironhide is really regretful about it but it's a little too late.
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Let's see.. They get attacked by some Insecticon beast things that Megatron made (I THINK THEY'RE ON CYBERTRON AT THIS POINT? I do not remember but they're def not on Earth) and Sunstreaker sacrifices himself to make it up to everyone for betraying them. THAT PANEL WAS HEART WRENCHING SEEING HIM IN THE LARGE HEAP OF CORPSES
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So he's presumed dead until he isn't. Ironhide finds him and rescues him but Ironhide has no recollection of what happened to him (If I recall correctly Ironhide also had a fake-out death protecting Hotrod). They're alone on Cybertron(?) everyone left, but Alpha Trion's here and helps them out before ditching them LMAO. Oh also Sunstreaker has a wheelchair now
At some point, Sunstreaker gets a pet insecticon he affectionately nicknamed Bob and the two are besties forever.
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Uhh A lot of stuff happens in-between but Sunstreaker eventually ends up on the Lost Light and he took Bob with him (he's no longer in a wheelchair). In Hoist's spotlight, Sunstreaker, Perceptor, Swerve and Hoist have a not so good time. On a mission, Sunstreaker crashes the ship and Perceptor gets fucking melted to the ceiling LMAO. Swerve is bleeding out and of course, Sunstreaker is at fault for crashing in the first place and he starts losing it
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BUT IT'S OK THEY LIVE AND GET OUT OF THERE BAHAHA. More stuff in-between I do want to point out that Jetfire's drone D.0.C, Thundercracker's dog Buster, and Sunstreaker's insecticon are best friends and they hang out with each other. At some point, Thundercracker babysits D.0.C, Buster, and Bob on earth IT'S SO CUTE (this was in Revolution)
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THAT'S ALL I CAN REMEMBER OF SIGNIFICANCE OFF THE TOP OF MY HEAD. Oh yeah uh Combiner stuff happens with Sunstreaker, Ironhide, Prowl, Mirage, and Optimus, but that's like a whole other thing. Between Sunstreaker, Mirage, and Ironhide, they're chill with each other now.
Also please look at D.0.C and Buster cuddling Jetfire with Thundercracker in the background, thank you for coming to my bot talk
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cityof2morrow · 7 months ago
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Q4MAT: Quake 4 Build 007 - Door Pack
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Published: 8-15-2024 | Updated: N/A SUMMARY “Industrial-strength designs for 2morrow’s hi-tech facilities, manufactured with real, semi-synthetic materials…” Check out #co2quake for more futurist designs from Quake games, refreshed and expanded with details from CuriousB (2010) and others. As a companion collection to previous #co2quake sets, here are 400+ (!!!!!) colorful/grungy recolors for various doors and 40+ recolors for the 2-tile panels from my EZ Panel Kit (Simmons, 2024). The set also includes edited versions of the one-way “Valuewood Justa Door” (Doc Holladay, 2007; 2006) and deco-only versions of the 4t2 “Not So Inconspicuous” sliding door (EA/Maxis; converted by Jacky93sims, 2024). Pick and choose what you want below – Happy Simming! DETAILS Requires all EPs/SPs. §12-330 | Build > Doors/Columns and Buy > Deco > Wall Hangings All packages with “MESH” in their filename are REQUIRED for textures to show properly. Depending on what door recolors you choose, you may need additional meshes (see below for more details). Some door textures are only 256x256 – ideal for performance but may look distorted if you zoom in really close. Other CC recolors can be found under these tags - #co2recolors, #ts2recolors, #ts2repo #co2repo #co2repopack. NEW ITEMS 2 Another Not So Inconspicuous Doors (“vault door”) (Deco) (530-768 poly) Doc Holloway’s One-Way Justa Door (~400 poly) DOWNLOAD (choose one) ** swatch previews are included in each download
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Valuewood Justa Door recolors from SFS | from MEGA Basegame-compatible; custom doors repo’d to this one will share recolors. **see the compatibility note below One-Way Valuewood Justadoor EDIT from SFS | from MEGA **delete the original one-way “Doc Justadoor” file (Doc Holladay, 2007; 2006) Myne Door recolors from SFS | from MEGA You need the University EP.
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Unique Separator DOOR recolors from SFS | from MEGA Unique Separator MAT recolors from SFS | from MEGA You need Apartment Life EP for both of these.
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Industrial Door recolors from SFS | from MEGA You need the Industrial Door MASTER Mesh by Cyclonesue (2008)
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Sim Trek Sliding Door recolors from SFS | from MEGA You need the mesh files by Leefish (2011) **Some recolors are grungy w holes; If you place the doors on adjacent tiles, the frames will overlap (see pic)
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2-Tile EZ Panel recolors from SFS | from MEGA You need the 2-tile “…-imgMESH” from the EZ Panel Kit (Simmons, 2024).
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4t2 Not So Inconspicuous deco/recolors from SFS | from MEGA 4t2 Inviting Swing Out Door recolors from SFS | from MEGA You need the original meshes converted by Jacky93sims (2024). *the new deco doors are found under columns; minor flickering on the interior
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4t2 Community Canvas/DIY Garage recolors from SFS | from MEGA You need the meshes by Moocha Muses HERE (2018) and HERE (2019) Extra add-Ons are available HERE (Simmons, 2024) **the “top” TXTR is actually the BACK of the Community Canvas Garage Door
COMPATIBILITY **NOTE: The Value Pocket Sliding Door (TheNinthWave, 2022) is repo’d to the “Valuewood Justadoor” door BUT with adjusted mapping (see below). This only messes up the “fancy” recolors – but don’t delete them because they will be gone from the other doors as well! All other textures show up fine on the custom pocket door.
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CREDITS Thanks: Sims2/Simming communities and a special shout out to all the original creators/modders mentioned above. Sources: Any Color You Like (CuriousB, 2010), EA/Maxis, Glitch Inside (Maknastudio, 2022), Hacked Font (Libeau, 2022), Quake 4 (Activision, 2005), Quake 4 Textures (Klevestav, 2013; 2010), Other TXTRs (Simmons, 2022-2024; Freepik, 2022; Ilexandro, 2018; CuriousB, 2012; Evillaire, 2008; Pixelhate, 2009; 2008).
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nahoney22 · 10 months ago
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Hey bestie! I love your work and as I've gotten to know you better, you've been an amazing friend ❤️
I was wondering if you could do some hurt/comfort/whump with f!reader x Tech! Maybe they have crash landed or been captured together or something. Perhaps they don't necessarily get along with each other but this situation forces them to work together and they discover that maybe the other isn't so bad. ❤️ Thanks!
Crash Landed 🌊
🫧 Pairing: Tech X Female Reader
word count: 5.9k
Prompts: none
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Summary: After you and Tech crash land in a remote Jungle, the two of you need to put your heads together and work as a team. Which is sometimes easier said than done.
warnings: Hurt, Angst and Comfort Whump Trope, Mentions of Injury to Reader and Tech, reader has a fear of blood, Kinda Enemies to Lovers, Reconciliation, Talks about Feelings, Huddling for Warmth, Heated First Kiss, Female Reader. Not proofread.
authors note: I love this idea! I hope I did it justice. And by the word count, clearly I enjoyed writing it. Thanks for being and amazing friend @arctrooper69 🩶
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You awaken, dazed and confused, your head heavy as your eyes adjust to the dim, smoke-filled surroundings. What's that smell? Is that... smoke? What happened?
Your body aches with every movement as you manage to sit up with a hefty groan, feeling the weight of gravity pull at your limbs. Rubbing your eyes with your hands to focus, you realise that everything is on its side, the walls of the shuttle caved in, sparks flying from broken control panels. What a mess. But, you're sure you were not alone before this happened.
“Tech?” you call out, your voice croaky before you start coughing, as if your lungs had filled up with smoke.
No reply. “Please don’t be dead, please don’t be dead,” you mutter to yourself as panic sets in, the memories flooding back. The mission, the Imperial's, crashing. Yes, that’s it. You crash-landed. But where? And where was Tech?
Luckily, your thoughts are answered as a torch shines in the distance, followed by loud clattering as if objects were being moved. You squint through the smoke, trying to ignore the acrid scent of burning metal. “Ah, there you are,” Tech says as he comes into view, his armor scratched, and his goggles a little skewed on his head.
“What happened?” you ask as he approaches you, another spluttering cough escaping your lips.
“If you take a look around, it will become apparent that we have crashed,” he replies. Ah yes, still a pain in the neck even after both of you nearly died.
You and Tech had rarely seen eye to eye. Since you joined the squad months ago, he always seemed to be on top of you, trying to prove you wrong or point out mistakes. It was tiresome. And now, unfortunately, you were stuck with him.
Rolling your eyes, you were in no mood for his tone and began to stand. However, as soon as you did, your leg gave way, your knees slamming to the floor. A cry of pain escaped you, making Tech look up from his cracked datapad, his eyes widening with slight concern. “Are you injured?”
“Obviously,” you grumbled in reply, stretching out your legs to assess the damage, but you didn’t see anything at first. It wasn’t until Tech crouched down in front of you that he spotted it.
“You have a laceration on your calf,” he said, his voice calm but concerned, inspecting the wound closely, and you did a double-take at his words.
“W-What? Is it bad?” You tried to hide the panic in your voice, but if there’s one thing you hated, it was blood.
Tech didn’t reply straight away, his eyes inspecting the wound closely, but your nerves began to eat away at you. “Tech, is it bleeding?” You asked quickly, your chest heaving as the fear started to creep in.
“Yes,” he confirmed, not making eye contact with you before he stood again, “I shall look for a medkit among this rubble. Stay here.” Well, it’s not like you had anywhere to go anytime soon anyway.
You wanted to call out to him, you wanted him to stay with you, but that would be inviting him to babysit you. Just because you were scared didn’t mean you wanted Tech to take care of you, which he probably would not do anyway.
Luckily, he wasn’t gone long and returned with a battered medkit. Some vials were smashed inside, and some tools were of no use, but you were glad that the bandages were untarnished. You had to look away as he started to dress your leg, cutting away the loose fabric to your pants before he skillfully wrapped it up. “That should do for now. Can you stand? We need to get out of here as it wouldn't surprise me if this shuttle imploded at any minute.”
Comfort was not his strong suit, clearly.
“I’ll try,” you began to haul yourself up your feet, but again, you were too weak. “No, no, no, I can’t.” As you were about to fall once again, Tech tucked himself under your arm, a hand steady on your waist as he kept you up.
“I will have to carry you.”
“No!” You squeaked. No way in hell were you going to let him carry you around. No way you wanted to appear more of a burden than you already are.
He raised an eyebrow, unmoved by your objection. “This is not open to debate. You can not put weight on your leg.”
With a frustrated sigh, you relented. “Alright, fine.”
With a wince of pain shooting up your leg, Tech manages to slip his arm around your neck, hoisting you over his shoulder with little effort. Each step he makes sends a jolt of unbearable pain through your leg, but you grit your teeth, holding back any sign of distress, more focused on figuring out how the two of you will get out of this mess.
You escape the shuttle, and the scorching sun immediately washes over you, its heat oppressive and suffocating. The air is humid and sticky. Great.
"So, where are we?" you ask awkwardly, still draped over his shoulder as he trudges onward.
"Uncertain," he replies, which does nothing to ease your nerves.
After a few minutes of walking, he finally sets you down on some dry grass. The sun beats down, forcing you to shield your eyes with your hand as you survey your surroundings. From the looks of it, you’re stranded in a jungle, with a vast expanse of open water stretching out before you. You could be literally anywhere.
“I suggest we find shelter, food, and a water source promptly. Since you are in no state to do anything, this task falls upon me,” he says, not once meeting your gaze as he speaks.
"Are you trying to blame me for hurting my leg? If I'm not mistaken, Tech, you were the one who pushed us into that shuttle," you retort, anger bubbling over.
"I am not blaming you, although if it was not for your mistake on the mission I would not have had to intervene." He trails off, not seeming to care at the dirty looks being sent his way. "I am merely stating facts." He says simply, tucking his datapad into his pouch before glancing down at you.
Deciding to keep your mouth shut for now, you refrain from arguing, knowing it won’t solve anything. Instead, you let Tech take the lead because, as much as you hate to admit it, he's right. You are in no state to do anything at the moment.
Tech leaves you alone for a while, giving you one of his blasters as a precaution before returning around half an hour later, announcing he found a suitable place to set up camp. You simply nod before glancing over at the crashed shuttle. “Is there anything we can salvage from that at least?” you ask aloud, drawing Tech’s attention back to you before casting a glance over at the debris.
“Perhaps. But we will have to be quick-." Before he can finish his thoughts, a sudden explosion rips through the air as the shuttle suddenly erupts into a burst of flames, sending debris flying in all directions. You both watch in shock as the flames engulf the wreckage, leaving nothing salvageable. Never mind.
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Once Tech had led you to a secluded spot under the protective canopy of towering trees. With careful movements, you managed to shift your weight onto your knees, the pain radiating from your leg causing you to bite back a wings of pain.
“You are doing it wrong.” As you went ahead and started to make a fire, Tech’s unsolicited advice on fire-building techniques went in one ear and out the other. Survival instincts was one of your specialties after all and so you ignored him as as you gathered dry twigs and leaves, arranging them meticulously into a makeshift pyre.
As Tech continued his lecture on the ‘correct way’ to build a fire, you struck the flint, the spark igniting a blaze that danced and crackled life. A triumphant smirk tugged at the corners of your lips as Tech fell silent, the warmth of the flames casting flickering shadows on the thick backdrop of the jungle.
“As you have accomplished the fire, all we need now is some edible food and water," Tech remarked and you hummed in slight agreement.
Carefully, you leaned back and against a sturdy boulder for support as you turned your attention to Tech, whose fingers deftly navigated his datapad. "Do you think you’ll be able to contact the others?" you inquired softly, wanting to hear good news right now.
Tech's brow furrowed in concentration as he tinkered with the device, the soft glow of the cracked screen illuminating his features in the darkness. "If I can get my device to work properly and salvage the shuttle… then possibly. But…" His voice trailed off, uncertainty lingering in the air.
"You have doubts?" you pressed, concerned lacing your words as you watched him shift uneasily in his spot.
“Yes,” he says as he stands, tucking his datapad away again, “I have my doubts.”
You both fall into silence, something quite rare from Tech as he was always chattering away about something. But for now, he was quiet. Deep in thought. A part of you wished you knew what he was thinking, wondering what was happening in that marvelous mind of his and if he had thought about what would happen if you two were never found which was a reoccurring thought in yours.
“I will be back soon,” he speaks up, breaking the silence after a few minutes.
“Where are you going?” You ask, a little too quickly. But truthfully, you didn’t want to be on your own right now. Yet you didn’t want him to know that.
He watches you almost tentatively before saying, “I need to gather provisions. I will not be long.”
You didn’t protest as you watched him walk away, disappearing through the trees as nightfall approached. Sighing softly to yourself, you sat lost in thought, the flickering flames casting shifting shadows across your face as you think back to all the things you should have done on that mission. Perhaps if you didn’t let your pride get the better of you, you wouldn’t have to sit wondering when Tech will return and if either of you will make it out of here.
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You don’t even remember falling asleep last night but you do remember waking up to the chill that had kept you shivering throughout the night despite sleeping by the crackling fire.
As you awaken to the gentle warmth of the morning sun filtering through the dense foliage above, a stark contrast to last night, with a heavy sigh, you sit up. You groan as your body feels more fatigued and worn out than before. Nausea washes over you as you groggily inspect your leg, the sight of the dried and bloodied bandage from the previous day making your stomach churn. Obviously, you'll need to tend to it again.
“Will you need my assistance or are you capable of tending to your own wound today?” Tech's voice cuts through the quiet morning air, his tone as matter-of-fact as ever. It's always hard to discern whether he's being genuinely helpful or simply blunt.
Deciding to handle this task yourself this time, you nod, expressing your intention to manage it alone. And even though you wanted to do it alone, Tech approaches nonetheless, the battered med kit in hand.
With Tech standing by, you cautiously remove the old bandage, your stomach turning at the sight of the open wound. Despite the lack of fresh blood, the dried remnants are enough to make you feel queasy. "You do not like blood," Tech observes, his statement pulling your attention away from the gruesome sight.
"Hm, how could you tell?" you mutter sarcastically, attempting to deflect from the discomfort.
“I have always known,” Tech responds cryptically, his expression giving nothing away as he crouches down beside you.
Curiosity piqued, you inquired further, wondering how he could have possibly known your hatred for blood. After all, you couldn't recall ever mentioning it to him before. “I… have observed your behaviour before and just so happened to pick up on it. I also recall you mentioning it to Hunter when you first joined.”
Hm, that’s… surprising.
You say nothing of it and instead allow him to take care of you. As Tech takes over, gently raising your leg and propping it over his knee, you can't help but notice the care he takes.
Despite his typically relaxed demeanor, there's a hint of concern in his actions as he tells you that you ‘may want to avert your gaze’ as he begins to peel the old bandage away.
Happily, you turn your attention to the leaves above, trying to ignore the stinging sensation spreading through your leg and the tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. Though, the warm breeze brushes against your exposed skin, offering a slight comfort amidst the discomfort.
“H-How does it look?” you ask, your voice strained, the anxiety evident in your tone as you feel Tech's careful movements.
“It appears that you have an infection. And I do not have the right resources to treat it.” Your heart sinks at his words, a sense of dread settling in the pit of your stomach as you try to suppress the rising panic.
“Great.”
“I will assume that is sarcasm,” he hums before passing you his canteen, “I found a water source last night. This has been purified and suitable to drink. I suggest you do that.”
Taking the canteen from his grasp, your mouth suddenly feels dry at the thought of water. You take a sip and can’t help but grimace at the taste, the bitterness lingering on your tongue. “Are you sure it’s been purified?”
“Yes, I did not say it will taste nice.”
You roll your eyes and take another remorseful sip before passing it back to him, your mind inadvertently drifting to the state of your leg. It looked worse than you anticipated.
“Shit.” You curse under your breath as you blink away the tears, the frustration and fear bubbling to the surface. Of course, your leg would get infected. Why would a crash-landing be a stroll in the park?
“I agree with your sentiments.” Tech's voice is steady as he carefully applies a new bandage, his movements precise and calculated. “I suggest you rest.”
“No,” you shake your head adamantly, meeting his gaze with determination, “I’m not going to sit here and do nothing. I have to do something.”
He blinks at you, frowning behind his goggles. “You are in no state to do anything. You are injured and so-.”
“So I’m a hindrance?” You challenge, the frustration evident in your tone as you refuse to back down.
“In a way, yes.” He says directly, the weight of his words hanging in the air as he stands up straight after carefully placing your leg down. “Any further injury could lead to loss of limb. Or worse. We cannot risk getting that leg infected even more. Do you not think you have caused enough grievance?”
Anger bubbles at his words, yet, a part of you knew he was right. You were both in this mess because of you but sitting on the forest floor doing nothing felt like a last resort. “Can you at least just help me stand up?” you grumble, your voice tinged with frustration. “Please?”
He hesitates, seemingly torn between his concern for your well-being and his reluctance to encourage any further strain on your injured leg. However, the dejected look on your face softens his resolve, knowing that he wouldn’t hear the end of it until he complies. Reluctantly, he extends his hand, offering you the support you need to rise to your feet.
Carefully, you put slight pressure on your leg, testing its strength. Surprisingly, it isn’t as painful as it was yesterday, giving you a glimmer of hope that you might be able to move around by limping or hopping for now—especially when Tech isn’t looking.
“Thanks,” you say stiffly, folding your arms over your chest, a mix of gratitude and stubbornness in your demeanor as you watch him pick something out of his pouch and hand it over to you. “What’s this?”
He presents you with a strange-looking leaf, its unfamiliar shape and texture raising your curiosity. “It is food. Edible. It is all I could find last night but will fill us with enough nutrients for now.”
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The rest of the day didn’t unfold as smoothly as you both had hoped. While Tech ventured back to the shuttle in a bid to secure a signal to reach the others, you took it upon yourself to be productive. Somehow.
With the terrain familiar to you from extensive research in your past, thoughts of herbal remedies for injuries like the one on your leg flooded your mind. So, after crafting a makeshift walking stick from a discarded branch sturdy enough to support your weight, you set off from camp, determined to gather the necessary ingredients.
Luck seemed to be on your side as you found the correct herbs and plants without much difficulty. However, your return to camp was met with an annoyed-looking Tech, his frustration evident as he started an argument for your sudden departure and for not telling him where you were since comms were dead too; coupled with his ongoing concerns about your leg.
Insisting that you were fine, you proceeded to apply the herbal remedy to your wound, wrapping it back up and allowing nature to take its course. Though Tech couldn’t help but offer snide remarks whenever you winced at the slightest movement, your remedy proved effective in easing the discomfort for a while.
Meanwhile, Tech’s attempts to establish a signal to the others had proved fruitless, only adding to his growing frustration. He was normally very composed under pressure, but his visible agitation was somewhat unsettling, leaving you feeling both concerned and also quite upset to see him this way.
As the sun began to set, casting long shadows across the camp, the atmosphere between you two remained tense. While you rested against the boulder again, Tech sat with his head in his hands, visibly weighed down by the day's events.
An uncharacteristic urge to ease his burden prompted you to speak up. “Why don’t you sleep? Try again tomorrow,” you suggest, breaking the silence and drawing his gaze across the flickering flames of the fire pit.
“One of us needs to stay awake and take watch,” he insists, decided on his decision straight away.
You frown, realising that you slept through most of the previous night, which meant… “Tech, did you not sleep last night?” you ask, your concern evident in your tone.
“No.” He mutters, “Like I said, one of us needs to stay awake.”
Squinting at him, a hint of annoyance creeps into your voice. “That’s not healthy, especially when we’re stuck like this. You need to sleep or something.”
“I am used to not getting sleep on the Marauder so I do not see why this is any different,” he counters, his stance firm.
Though grateful for his commitment to keeping watch, you can’t help but feel exasperated by his stubbornness. Rolling your eyes, you wrap your arms around yourself as a chill sets in. “To be fair,” you begin, “I kept waking up last night. It was way too cold.”
“Yes, I noticed,” he responds, his tone softened slightly by the acknowledgement.
“Oh,” you say softly before closing your eyes, allowing the weariness of the day to wash over you. However, you’re abruptly jolted from the verge of sleep by the sound of movement nearby. With a start, you almost jump out of your skin as Tech stands in front of you.
“Stars Tech!” You gasp, his sudden proximity shocking you. “What?”
“I want you to go to sleep.”
You blink at him.
“Okay…?”
“So,” you watch him shift, his movements awkward, “I will let you sleep beside me.”
It takes you a moment to comprehend his meaning before you pull a strange face, your eyebrows furrowing in confusion and slight amusement. “Are you asking me to cuddle you?” The thought surprises you, but oddly enough, it doesn’t sound too bad right about now.
“I would not put it so conveniently,” he says, his tone betraying a hint of discomfort, “I am merely stating that I could use my body warmth to help you sleep.”
You’re taken aback by his offer, but exhaustion soon overwhelms any reservations you may have had. “Oh… well, if you’re okay with that?”
“I would not have offered otherwise.” Tech’s smile is small but genuine, and you can’t help but softly smile back as you both sit beside one another, gazing into the flames of the fire pit. Soon, you find your eyes trailing down to his bare hands, frowning as you notice they look quite sweaty; an odd sight considering the cool evening air.
Curiosity gets the better of you, and you gaze up at his face, finding him engrossed in fixing his datapad. But something seems off—his complexion appears clammy, and there’s a flush to his cheeks.
Instinctively, you reach out and place the back of your hand to his forehead, gasping at the unexpected heat radiating from his skin. “Tech!” You squeak, startling him. “You have a fever? Why didn’t you tell me?”
He doesn’t even look at you, giving off a look like a character who had been bitten by something in those horrible horror holomovies and pretends to hide the bite. “Tech,” you say his name again, more sternly. “Are you hurt?”
He sighs, dropping his device into his lap before he lifts his arm to you, showing a bandage of his own that is stained in dry blood. “As I was maneuvering through the shuttle, I just so happened to trip and catch my arm on some jagged metal. It is nothing to fret about.”
“Oh, come off it, you’re burning up.” Tech notices the slight worry in your tone, watching you lean to your other side as you produce the herbal paste you used on yourself earlier. “Let me put this on.”
“Rest and water will do me fine-.”
“That’s funny, seeing as you just told me you’d rather me sleep than yourself.” You say with a roll of your eyes, taking a firm yet gentle hold of his arm before you start to peel the bandage away, holding down your nausea just for him.
Tech watches you with a concerned gaze. “I must insist…” he trails off as his eyes move to the sticky paste, clearly uncertain about your own remedy.
“Don’t you trust me?” You ask, and time seems to freeze as you both lock eyes, speaking silently to one another. His gaze is strong and, albeit, quite hypnotising behind his yellow-tinted goggles. But, you seem to snap out of your gaze as he replies:
“I do.”
“Well,” you say, clearing your throat as you drop your gaze to his arm, “let me help you.”
You’re gentle with your movements, applying the remedy over his arm with precision. You could feel his stare on your face, and so you slowly looked back up at him, his face so near you could almost feel the warmth of his breath dancing on your skin. “See? That should help with the pain,” you find yourself whispering.
For once, the two of you didn’t seem to be at each other's necks, both of you seeming to try and read each other’s thoughts. Tech was not the best at reading feelings, and as you gaze into his eyes, you find yourself not being able to read his too.
Eventually, you look away. An unusual heat started to crawl up your neck, and you didn’t think it was from the flame from the fire or his ‘body warmth’ as he put it. Lack of sleep and lack of food and water. That had to be it.
“Are you sure you don’t want to sleep, Tech?” You ask again as the drowsiness from before seeps back, and Tech turns his head away from you, inspecting his arm quietly before picking up his datapad once more.
“I am sure.”
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The next day unfolded much like the one before it.
Tech grumbled about your mobility, his attempts to fix up the shuttle yielding no results, and the air between you both grew heavy with unspoken tension.
Yet, as nightfall descended once again, you found yourself nestled beside Tech, his warmth offering a rare respite, allowing you to drift into a peaceful sleep. And miraculously, your homemade remedy seemed to work wonders on both of you. You could now move with a bit more ease, and the infections on your injuries had cleared up.
But as you stared into the dancing flames that night, a wave of sorrow washed over you.
“You were right, you know?” you whispered into the night, the warmth of the fire casting flickering shadows on your face.
“About what?” Tech responded, his eyes fixed on his datapad, the soft glow illuminating his features.
Tears welled up at the corners of your eyes, and you struggled to keep them at bay, feeling utterly helpless. “That it was my fault… with the mission. If I had just let you do the data transfer instead of insisting I could do it then…” Your voice faltered, choked by a sob that escaped your lips, startling Tech. “Then we would’ve made it out in time! A-and the others… Tech, we don’t even know if they’re alive!”
Tech stared at you wide-eyed, your sudden outburst of emotion catching him off guard. Yet, amidst your tears streaming down your face and your hands clasped over your head, he uttered your name softly, “Mistakes happen.”
“But they don’t with you, Tech!” you cried, turning to face him. “You’re always so good, so perfect at everything you do, and I… I just wanted to prove myself to you! I always feel like I am not good enough for you, and that’s why you don’t like me.”
For a moment, the crackling of the fire was the only sound between you, the flames casting a warm glow on both of your faces. Tech's expression softened as he regarded you with understanding.
“Not liking you, is not something that ever crossed my mind,” he finally said, his voice low. “You were determined, and that is a trait that is to be commended. It is true, I often find it easier to rely on myself but I am programmed that way. But you, you gave it your all, and that is commendable. Do not be so hard on yourself.”
You sniffle, feeling the weight of your emotions pressing down on you like a heavy blanket. The tears keep escaping your eyes, trailing down your cheeks as you struggle to contain your emotions. "But… because of me, you’re stuck here?"
Tech’s gaze softens, his eyes reflecting understanding. His voice carries a comforting warmth as he responds, “I am aware. But think how you would be if I were not here.”
Your mind whirls with the possibilities of what could have been, but you still feel terrible. "But we may not see the others again… we may not ever leave here." Your voice trembles with the weight of uncertainty, your heart heavy with guilt.
Tech’s gaze shifts away, his brows furrowing in contemplation as he adjusts his goggles. "We have to adapt to survive, we always have. And regarding the others, the probability of their survival is 89%. It is likely they are out there looking for us. And if I get the shuttle repaired enough to get a connection, I can send a signal and hope they pick up our coordinates.” His voice carries a note of determination.
You cling to his words like a lifeline, a glimmer of hope flickering in the depths of your despair. How could you have been so stupid? But, his words held promise but you can’t help but ask: "Promise me you’re not lying to me?"
“I have not once ever lied to you and I would not start now.” His response is steady, his words a soothing balm to your battered soul.
As your tears slowly subside, a tentative smile graces your lips. "Thanks Tech,” you murmur, your voice thick with emotion. “I bet I look a mess right now. I’m a pretty ugly cryer.”
Tech’s gaze softens, a hint of warmth in his eyes as he searches for the right words. "No, you look…” He trails off, his gaze lingering on your tear-streaked face. He reaches out, his touch feather-light as he gently brushes away a stray tear that glistens on your lashes.
“What?” you prompt, your breath catching in your throat at his unfamiliar touch as you meet his gaze.
“Like you,” he finishes, a little awkward but his words were imbued with sincerity as he offers you a small smile.
Emotion wells up inside you, a tidal wave of gratitude and affection crashing over you. Without a second thought, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around him in a tight embrace. He freezes for a moment, taken aback by the sudden intimacy, before tentatively returning the hug, his arms encircling you in a protective cocoon.
As you’re wrapped in each other's embrace, you find solace; a fleeting moment of peace.
As sleep beckons, you can’t help but nestle closer to him, finding comfort in his presence as you drift off into the realm of dreams, his steady heartbeat a lullaby.
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In the days that followed, a significant improvement became evident. Tech’s progress on the shuttle repair was slow, hampered by the absence of his proper tools. Despite the challenges, both of your injuries had begun to heal, and the atmosphere in camp had lightened considerably.
Although the water still tasted like dirt, you were no longer dehydrated. Discovering some rare fruits that proved not to be poisonous added to the uplifting spirit.
At night, neither of you seemed to mind huddling for warmth. You would lay against him, listening to the plans and stories he had, especially if you begged him to tell you. Although they were very matter-of-fact and not overly entertaining, you found the tales of the squad before you joined enjoyable. You both no longer bickered, clearing the air of past arguments, and genuinely enjoyed each other's company. Although it was not like either of you had any other options.
But that’s not the only thing that had changed. You found yourself getting nervous around Tech. A good kind of nervous. When he was working on the shuttle, you couldn’t help but sit back and admire him at work. He was attractive, sure, but you found him more than that. He listened intently to you, offering advice and tips without seeming to mansplain to you.
So that night by the fire again, sitting by his side, you weren’t so surprised about the next set of events.
“What are you going to do when we leave this place?” You ask, your body twisting to face him as you rest your elbow against the boulder, hand on the side of your head as you lean yourself up to look at him.
He smiles, noticing how you said ‘when’ and not ‘if’, highlighting your trust in him. “I will most likely do what I usually do, get ready for the next mission set for us.”
You roll your eyes. “You don’t want to celebrate?”
“Celebrate what, exactly?”
“Well,” you start with a soft laugh, “us finally putting our differences aside and not killing each other for one.” You suggest, earning a fond chuckle from the clone before continuing. “And surviving.”
He thinks for a moment, looking into the flames and then at you. “I suppose those are adequate reasons to celebrate, yes. Will the others be joining?”
“Sure,” you say with a smile but there’s a small swirl in your stomach as you say, “unless… you don’t want them to join us?”
Tech blinks, and for a second, it was like he was short-circuiting as he thinks about your proposal. Was it flirtation in your tone or had he imagined it? “I do not mind either way,” he explains, his chest slightly puffing out. “It would be nice to perhaps talk like this in a more formal setting elsewhere. Just us.”
You silently suck in a deep breath, a shy glint in your eyes. “I think I’d like that, yeah.” Your tone lowered, and you can’t help but notice that Tech had turned his body more to face you. Then, his eyes flickered to your lips as you inadvertently licked them, chapped but tinged with the sweetness of the fruit before.
You hold his gaze, slightly tilting your head as you take a gamble and look to his lips, then to his eyes. It was an invitation, and you hoped that Tech got the hint.
And he did.
Slowly, he sets his datapad to one side, finally letting it go as he focuses all of his attention on you. There’s a charge in the air, and you see him lean closer... and closer…
Your breath hitches, eyes slowly falling shut as he closes the distance, his nose brushing against yours before his lips meet your own in a soft, shy kiss. Leaning more into it, your hand finds refuge on his leg whilst one of his hands comes up and cups your cheek.
You sigh into him, heart racing as you feel him grow bolder. His lips, warm and inviting, meld with yours, igniting a spark that you both had been unknowingly kindling. His touch sends shivers down your spine as the kiss deepens, becoming more desperate, more intense. The jungle, the planet, the whole star system around you seems to fade away.
Tech utters your name against your lips, your soft moan of a response allowing his tongue into your mouth, exploring, igniting a fiery passion within you.
Gently, he lays you down by the fire, the crackling flames casting dancing shadows across his face. He pulls away for a moment, pulling his goggles off his face as he peers down at you, his eyes a dance of different emotions. “You are enchanting.”
But with a hunger that can no longer be contained, he crashes his lips back to yours, now allowing you to let your tongue meet his in a fervent dance; fingers tangling in his untamed hair meanwhile his hands roam over your body.
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The next day brought a breakthrough. Tech managed to gain contact.
Overwhelmed by joy, you ran into Tech’s arms, jumping and letting him spin you around with a chuckle as you knew both of you would soon be saved! And better yet, the others were alive and safe too.
“I can’t believe you did it! You really did it.” You grin at him as he pulls back from the hug but does not let you down, instead cradles you in his arms.
“You seem surprised.”
“Oh Tech,” you say adoringly, leaning forward and giving his lips a soft kiss, smiling as he hums against your lips.
“I will never get tired of you kissing me,” he utters, truly in awe of how this sudden turn of events had happened. It was quick, but neither of you seemed to mind.
Last night was magic. All the bad memories had faded from your mind, solely just focusing on Tech and yourself. When all hope had seemed lost, your mistake led you to one of the best choices you ever could make. And maybe, that promised date would become something more.
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Masterlist is pinned😊
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randofics · 1 year ago
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Thermalis
🎶 Maroon5- she will be loved
Ultra Magnus x reader
18+
-------
Magnus was using his thermals to look over a malfunctioning piece of equipment when your entrance caught his attention. Your vibrant figure stood out against the cold blue of the concrete floor. Even the breath puffing through your nose and mouth had a fleeting heat.
It got colder inside during these winter desert nights. Cold enough for you to constantly wear your old high-school hoodie and leggings.
To his surprise, you weren't wearing the hoodie. Instead, it was tied around your waist, leaving your top half covered in a tank top. He observed your heat signature as you climbed the metal steps to the platform, curious at the way heat seemed to radiate from your belly, chest, and head. Your limbs were a bit cooler, and your fingers even cooler than them.
You noticed him staring and gave him a small smile. "What is it, Magnus?"
Shaking his helm slightly to clear it he hummed in question back at you. "I noticed you staring, so what's up?"
"Ah apologies y/n I noticed you weren't wearing your hoodie."
"Oh yeah, Rachet had me working on some of his equipment earlier. The cooling system was malfunctioning, so I had to wriggle inside where it was still hot to repair a few things. Made me sweat like a racehorse." He nods, remembering his own tech troubles. "I may have a similar problem with this equipment here."
"Really? Well, I can take a look if you want?"
"That would be much appreciated, thank you." He held out his servo for you to hop into and brought you over to the malfunctioning machine. Popping open a side panel, you lay on your back to slide inside all the way to your waist. Magnus observes your arms, moving about as you look over the wires and cables inside. The flashlight between your teeth slips in your concentration and smacks you in the forehead before rolling further inside the machine.
"OW... I sworney! Get back here, ya stupid flashlight!" Magnus quirks a browridge as you feel around for the familiar cylinder of your light. You shift your legs from their side laying position to propped up and spread as you reach further inside. Having forgotten his thermals were still on, the hot signature between your thighs drew in his optics.
He somewhat understood why your torso would be so hot but down there? Cybertronians were usually cold there. As you finally grabbed the light and continued your work, Magnus was staring off into space. His processor wandering. He couldn't help his curiosity in how that warmth would feel against him but remembered that organics were wet and squishy inside. At first, the thought kinda grossed him out, but the longer he thought about it, the stronger his curiosity became till he finally steered his thoughts towards you.
He hadn't been thinking of you specifically, at least not at first, but now he was thinking of how you would feel on his spike. The raunchy thoughts caught him off guard. He shook his helm to dispell them, clearing his vocalizer. A blue blush crossing his faceplate. He needed to distract himself with work. Walking over to his data pad, he turned it on, trying to busy himself with "paperwork."
He couldn't stop his thoughts about you. He wondered how much your temperature would change as he worked you up and how plush your body might be in his servos.
"Something wrong, big guy?" He gives you a strange look. You feel a bit shy under his gaze and trip over your words. "Magnus? Wh-what is it? Why are you... staring at me like that?" He kneals, and you take a step back.
"Your heat signature."
"What about it?" He clears his vocalizer standing straight again. "Nevermind, forget I said anything."
"Okaaay... I'm finished with the repair." He gives you a curt nod, turning back to the screens covered in cybertronian script. "Thank you for your assistance, y/n." Shaking your head, you walk away, not realizing the mech has his optics on you.
He silently watches you leave, finally switching his thermals off so he can see everything in normal color.
-------
The next hour or so was very unproductive for him. He just couldn't stop thinking about you no matter how hard he tried. Eventually, he gave up deciding that a night drive would calm his racing processor. But as fate would have it, he wouldn't be alone.
You jogged into the main room, calling to him as he got ready to transform. "Magnus! Magnus! Wait up!" He qwirked a brow ridge as you huffed from running. "Do you... mind dropping me off at my place?"
"Is Bumblebee unable to?"
"Yeah, he's busy helping Optimus." He nods, transforming in front of you. His driver side door pops open, and you step up inside. With your seatbelt secure around you, he drives through the tunnel.
Raindrops hit his windshield as he passed the giant hidden doors. Puddles had formed in the almost hydrophobic desert soil as an unusual hard rain poured from the heavens. He didn't need to use his wipers, but for the sake of blending in, he turned them on. Several cars passed in the opposite lane, almost backed up for some reason.
You looked farther ahead and spotted the flashing lights of police vehicles. You could see that the road ahead was blocked off by barricades and police cruisers. A large section of road had collapsed in the rushing floodwaters, and no one would be getting through anytime soon.
"Ugh, that's just great! Now, how will I get home?"
"You could accompany me for a drive while I find another way through?"
"Ok, if you're alright with it?" You watch the lights on the radio flash as he speaks. "I have nothing better to do at the moment." He makes a u-turn following the other vehicles through the translucent sheets of rain. A few minutes down the road, he turns onto a dirt one. You can feel his shocks taking the brunt of the worn potholes as he slowly drives through them.
Mud cakes his tires and undercarriage, making it hard to get a good grip on the road. The detour was proving more and more fruitless by the minute. He grunted as his tires spun in a particularly deep wallow. The mud had practically drained from under his tires, leaving him on top of a shelf of mud. His weight now off his tires put pressure on his undercarriage.
In cybertronian, he cursed his steering wheel, turning left and right as he tried to gain enough traction. With that not working, either he partially transforms using different parts to drag himself forward, eventually escaping the deep mud.
"That was deep! I was beginning to wonder if I should call for a wrecker."
"I doubt Bulkhead or Wheeljack would've been much help." You let out a chuckle at his misunderstanding. "No, I mean a wrecker like a vehicle recovery truck. They're mainly used for semi recovery." He grunts in recognition, continuing down the road.
The lights of a main road shine up ahead, and you breathe an unconscious sigh of relief when he rolls onto the asphalt. It's obvious, however, just how much mud is stuck to his tires as he unevenly drives down the road. As you continue looking forward, you spot an empty car wash.
"How about we stop at this car wash so I can spray you down?"
"Agreed, my tires aren't getting enough traction with this mud." He pulls into the semi sized wash bay and cuts his engine. The old car wash only has one working light in this bay, leaving it washed in a dim greenish-blue. Stepping out, you take the pressure washer in hand, immediately starting on his tires. The mud washes away relatively quickly, and before you know it, you're kneeling down, trying to spray his undercarriage clean.
The yellowish lights of an older pickup truck shine across you, and Magnus as a man pulls into the small lot. He parked next to the air pump, stepping out onto the glossy wet pavement. The rain had finally settled down quite a bit.
As you continued your spraying, the man was clearly watching you as he stood there a moment. He suddenly called out to you, gaining your attention. "Hey ma'am! Do you need some help?"
You wiped water from your face as you stood to face him. "No sir, I'm fine, thanks!" The man started walking over when you turned your back to him. Alarms rang in Magnus' processor, so he switched on his holoform. Opening the driver's side door, he stepped out, making eye contact with the approaching man. Immediately upon seeing Magnus, he turned on his heels and walked back to his truck to put air in his tires.
Boots hitting the concrete drew your attention. You were met with an older man, probably in his late forties, his hair just beginning to grey and dressed in battle fatigues. He was clean-shaven and standing with his hands behind his waist as a general would.
"That you Magnus?" He only nods, watching the man as he finally gets back in his truck, driving away. Magnus turns to you as you finish spraying his undercarriage clean. "That feel better?"
"Yes, thank you, y/n." Noticing your slight shivering, he turns on his thermals again. You're a tad colder than you were back at base, and clearly, the spray of the hose dampened your clothes. The cool breeze didn't help much either. After spraying a clean path to his passenger door and cleaning your shoes, you step up inside again.
Glancing at his surroundings, he steps up into the driver's seat. Pulling forward, he drives into the dark, secluded rear of the car wash to park. As you rub your arms in an attempt to get warm, you give him a confused look. His seat slides back as far as possible, and he pats his lap.
"You want me to get in your lap?"
"You're cold, aren't you? It's the least I can do for that wash down." You bite your lip as you think it over. Caving, you clamber over to him, straddling his legs with your hands on his chest. Gently and a bit unsure of yourself, you lean forward, wrapping your arms around his neck as you lay against him. His holoform is warm to your surprise but not as much as a human. You nuzzle into his neck, closing your eyes at the comforting feeling of his presence. Arms wrap around your back, and you let out a content sigh, relaxing your muscles.
He feels your body loosen as your breath tickles his holoform skin. He wraps his arms around you and lets himself relax as well.
-------
A few minutes pass, and you can't help but fidget a little with his uniform buttons. "What are you doing?" His deep voice close to your ear sends a shiver down your spine. And you can feel your body react to him. Gently, you press your lips against his neck, taking him by surprise.
He sucks in a synthetic breath as you place more tender kisses on his skin. "Would it be alright if I switched holoforms?" You pause, leaning back to look him in the eyes. "You have a different holoform?" Now you were curious, would it be this human with different clothes or something else? "I can project a holoform of my true body as well as this human form."
Perhaps he wanted to do this in his true form rather than some human version of himself. It was understandable. You wouldn't want to do something intimate in another body either. You smile and nod, letting him know you were ok with it and his holoform morphs before your eyes.
That familiar blue, red, and silver body sits under you as solid as ever. When you shift in his lap, you brush against his modesty panel, sending a small jolt of pleasure through your nerves. His servos land on your waist, and you press your forhead against his in a sign of affection.
"What would you like me to do next?" His question has you smiling, giving him a soft chuckle. "Just do what feels right, Magnus."
"Mmh, alright then." He takes your jaw in his servo, pulling you in for a kiss. It's gentle at first, both of you unsure about yourselves but slowly you get into a rhythm of sorts. His glossa ran over your teeth, asking for entry, which you obliged. His denta clashed against your teeth as the kiss grew frantic. Subconsciously, you scooted forward, sitting right on his modesty panel. His servo gripped your rear, lifting you slightly as you heard feint clicks. When you sat back down His modesty panel wasn't there anymore instead replaced by a spike of sorts. Rounded and pliable like some kind of silicone covered metal. It was dark charcoal grey with feint blue lights running along it.
A mad blush covers your face and ears as you look back up at him. He also looks nervous and can't keep eye contact with you. "I apologize y/n I didn't mean for that to happen." For once, you can hear nerves in his voice. He's normally so calm and collected much like Optimus.
Gaining confidence at his nervousness, you give him a peck on the lips, sliding off his lap. You strip in front of him all the way down to bare skin. His glowing eyes scan your body in awe as you gingerly slip back into his lap. "You're gorgeous. I don't know any femmies that even come close to your beauty." You almost tear up at his compliments.
He lets his servos roam your skin as he moves to kiss your neck. Small sounds escape your throat as he caresses your abdomen and deftly touches your spine. You position yourself on his spike, moving your hips back and forth to gain some pleasure. He groans in your ear as you rub yourself on him. Your slick leaks on him lubricating him for the next step.
When he breaks away from your neck, you kiss him again and sit up on your knees above him. "Are you certain you want to go through with this?" Your gaze is dark with arousal as you nod to him. You split yourself open, gently aligning him with your entrance as you finally sink down.
He hisses, cursing in cybertronian at the feeling of you around him. You let out a pitiful whine as he stretches you, filling you perfectly. You grip his shoulders to ground yourself as you both stay still for a moment. Relaxing your muscles, you slip just a bit further down to the base of him as he grips your hips tight.
When he attempts to move, you wrap your arms around his neck, gripping one of his ear finials. He moves his servos to your rear, lifting you up only to thrust back into you. Moans quickly flow from your lips as he gets into rhythm. A growl escapes him as he leans forward, getting out of the seat. With you he shimmys to his back cabin, laying you on the folding cot.
He gets on top of you and moves the pillow under your hips before slipping back inside you with a pleasured groan. You let out a gasp when he plunges back in, the different angle providing new pleasure. As he thrusts harder, you lock your legs around his waist and claw at his back plates. You can feel the coil inside you tightening as your muscles squeeze around his spike.
"Magnus... Harder!" Immediately, his hips snap harder into yours, and you feel your coil about to snap. It's only when he whispers to you something in cybertronian gripping the meat of your rear that it finally snaps. You call out his name as your body tenses, waves of white hot pleasure running through you.
He continues moving through your high, letting possesive synthetic growls slip through his vocalizer. An almost inaudible hiss of air meets your ears as your mind clears a bit, and you suddenly feel his girth increase inside you. It stretches you just a bit more, and you already feel another orgasm slowly creeping up on you.
Magnus isn't slowing down yet either as he lifts one of your legs to gain a better angle. His lips attacking your neck again as he chases his own release. His denta nip at your skin, and his glossa runs along your throat, making you shiver.
You feel his arms around you as he suddenly picks you back up, taking a standing position. He thrusts up into you, letting out what you can only guess is cybertronian dirty talk. Nonetheless, it works, and you know you're close to another release. Chanting his name like a mantra, you claw at his back and grip his finials.
"I'm close y/n!" You can't respond only letting moans flow from your lips. With a few more thrusts, he lets out a hiss cursing in cybertronian again as he releases inside you. Heat fills your womb as you squeeze him like a vice. Your legs tighten around him in an attempt to pull him further inside you. You can feel your walls pulse around him as he gently thrusts into you to ride out your high.
Breathing hard, you give him a sleepy smile touching forheads again in affection. He sits back in the driver's seat, letting you lay against him. "Can we stay here for a bit?"
"Of course. I wouldn't have it any other way." Wrapping your arms around his neck, you close your eyes. "I love you, Magnus." His spark swells with joy at that. "I love you as well, y/n."
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be4chywritez · 9 months ago
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Nico Hishier dating Mercedes F1 driver. The reader just won her first championship title and Nico is supportive towards reader.
omg i literally love f1 x nhl sm🙃
Winner takes it all | nico hischier
nico hischier x driver!reader
You win your first world championship and Nico is there to support you.
my masterlist!
requests are open!
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Nico paced around the Mercedes garage, his heart pounding in rhythm with the revving engines. His eyes were fixed on the screen, where the sleek black Mercedes navigated the twists and turns of the circuit with caution. Through the headphones, he heard your voice, loud and stressed.
"How's the gap?" Your frustration was palpable, and Nico's nerves only made it worse as he waited for a reply from your engineer.
"Keep pushing, going full throttle this lap, Verstappen is closing in," came the calm response.
Nico's breath caught in his throat as he watched the screen, his mind racing with worry. He hadn't felt this nervous since the day he met you.
It was a charity event hosted by a major sports foundation, bringing together athletes from various disciplines to raise funds for children's hospitals. Nico, representing the NHL, and you, a rising star in Formula 1, were both invited to participate in a panel discussion about the importance of sports in youth development.
Nico had heard about you before—your rapid ascent in the male-dominated world of F1 was making waves. He was intrigued to meet you in person.
As you smoothed out your dress, a mic tech handed you a mic. You thanked him and looked up, catching Nico's gaze. You offered him a smile, and his heart skipped a beat as you walked towards him.
"Hi, very nice to meet you. I'm Y/n," you said, your voice soft and inviting.
"Hello, I'm Nico. Nice to meet you too," he replied, trying to keep his composure despite the flutter in his chest.
Before you could say anything else, you were both ushered onto the panel.
The panel went amazingly well. You and Nico complemented each other perfectly.
"That was nice," you said as you walked to your cars. "We should hang out without, y'know, the panel."
Nico nodded, his heart racing for reasons that had nothing to do with the Monster he had just drank. "I'd like that. Maybe you should come to a hockey game?"
"I'd love that," you replied with a smile. "And maybe you can come to a Grand Prix?"
"Deal," he said, grinning. "It's a date."
The rest was history; you and Nico started dating a few months later. You came out to his games, and he attended your races, always finding time for each other.
Now, Nico stood there, watching your car drive its last lap, his lip between his teeth.
The camera panned to Nico. "There's Nico Hischier, Y/n's partner, looking quite stressed." Nico cupped his mouth with his hands, rubbing his face. "C'mon, baby, bring it home, c'mon," he whispered.
Sweat clouded your vision. One lap to go, and it was decided. You and Max had been fighting for this, and the points were extremely close. All you heard was your heart beating in your ears. You looked at your mirrors, Verstappen close behind you. You kept pushing. You reached the last turn; this was it. Verstappen tried to overtake, and for a second, you thought he did. You let out a strangled grunt, pushing harder. You got ahead by an inch, and then, all of a sudden, it went quiet.
You felt your car soar through the finish line, and you blinked, tears immediately fogging your vision. You could feel the rumble of the stands from cheering.
As the deafening roar of the engines faded into silence, Nico's heart seemed to stop along with it. The tension in the air was palpable, every eye in the garage fixated on the screens, waiting for the final verdict.
The seconds stretched on endlessly, each one feeling like an eternity, until finally, the results flashed across the screen. Y/n had done it. She had crossed the finish line first, securing the championship title by the narrowest of margins.
A collective cheer erupted in the garage, the sound of excitement filling the air as the team members embraced each other in celebration. Nico's heart swelled with pride and relief, his eyes glistening with unshed tears.
"Congratulations, mate!" a mechanic exclaimed, clapping Nico on the back.
Nico turned to see Toto Wolff, the team principal, approaching with a wide grin on his face. "You must be over the moon, Nico. Y/n drove brilliantly out there."
He nods, and Toto brings him into a hug, patting his back. "She did it."
Your engineer's voice breaks your haze, "Congrats, kid, you are the world champion," his voice breaks, "I'm so proud of you," he says.
Toto's voice is now in your ear, "Y/n, amazing drive, you did it, darling. I'm so proud of you. This is only the beginning; you have so much potential." Tears flow harder if possible.
"Toto, team, thank you so much. We did it, guys. Love you guys. Nico, if you can hear me, we did." your voice breaks.
Toto calls over Nico to the wall, he places his headset over Nico, "We did it, my love," you can hear Nico say into the mic, you let out a cry and laugh, "Thank you, Neeks."
Your team rushes over to the barricade, all of them waiting for you.
You park the car in the number one spot, Max in second, and Checo in third.
You flip your visor and get out of your car. Max approaches you, giving you a supportive pat on your back. Checo pulls you into an embrace, and you pat his back, giving him a nice nod. Then, you run towards the barricade and throw yourself into your team, who all cheer for you.
Your mechanics and engineers all pat your helmet, showing you love.
You do your post-win interview and cool down in the room, but those moments felt like a blur. You were called for the podium ceremony, you stand on the top looking down, and you spot him immediately, his eyes are rimmed red probably from crying, he spots you giving you a wide smile, and you wink at him.
your anthem plays, tears flow freely, then afterward the champagne pops, and you, Checo, and Max spray each other, happily running around the podium.
After the festivities you make your way back to the garage, Lewis gets to you first giving you a hug, "congrats kid, you did it,” you smile giving him a pat, then mechanics and engineers, Toto brings you in for another hug, “great race out there,” he pats your arm.
Then Nico charges at you, hugging you tightly, you feel him breathe deeply, “we did my love, we did it,” you mumble into his shoulder
Nico laughed, hugging you tightly. “You did it, Y/N. You were amazing out there. I’m so proud of you.”
You pulled back, your eyes sparkling with joy. “I couldn’t have done it without your support. You’ve been my rock through all of this.”
Nico brushed a strand of hair from your face, his smile softening. “You deserve all of this and more. You’ve worked so hard, and now the whole world knows just how incredible you are.”
You leaned into his touch, your eyes closing for a moment. “I couldn’t ask for a better partner.”
He kissed your forehead gently. “And I couldn’t ask for a better champion to support. Now, let’s go celebrate. This is your moment, and I want to make sure it’s one you’ll never forget.”
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bambiraptorx · 1 year ago
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[I.D. Three panel digitally drawn comic using characters from ROTTMNT. In the first panel, Leo props his sword on his shoulder and has his other hand on his hip. He raises one eyebrow (really the upper edge of his mask) and smirks, as he says "Okay guys, here we are! Thanks to my portals, we've gotten to Hueso's in record time!" In the next panel, Leo is drawn in the same pose, smaller and in the right lower corner, with a triangle head. Behind him is a large white banner that reads "TMNT AU Comp" in all caps. Under the banner is a large, abstract crowd. In the third panel, Donnie, Mikey, Draxum, and Raph stand together. Donnie holds his arm with his tech gauntlet on it in from of him and his other arm out to the side, leaning forward slightly. He also has a mute symbol on the base of his goggles. He says, "Nardo, this isn't Hueso's." Mikey is perched on the back of Donnie's shell, excitedly sticking a hand in the air with stars in his eyes as he says "Woah! Look at all the people!" Draxum stands behind them, partially hidden by Raph. He holds up a hand and frowns as he sighs and says "Didn't I teach you better than this?" Raph stands partly to the side of Draxum and partly in front of him, a blank look on his face and his hands in front of his body, tapping his pointer fingers together. End I.D.]
Looks like the Minor Interference cast has made it to the @tmntaucompetition! The whole premise of the au is that Draxum is training the turtles so he gets dragged into this with them lol
(also shut up draxum you've barely taught him anything lmao)
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dystopicjumpsuit · 11 months ago
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For the cuddle prompts.. possibly #29 with Tech? 🥹🧡
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A/N: Hi, @xentari94! Thanks for the request! I hope I’ve captured the cozy, fluffy vibes for you! The prompt is #29: putting ear over their heart.
Pairing: Tech x Reader (GN)
Rating: T (but as always, minors DNI)
Wordcount: 384
Warnings and tags: fluff, cuddles, implied sensuality
Summary: You enjoy a rare moment of privacy with Tech.
Suggested Listening:
Masterlist | Sign up for my tag list
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At night I dream that you and I are two plants that grew together, roots entwined, and that you know the earth and the rain like my mouth, since we are made of earth and rain. -Pablo Neruda, “Rain (Rapa Nui)”
On the infrequent occasions when it rained in Ord Mantell City, the water fell in a deafening torrent. Those unlucky enough to be caught in one of the city’s abrupt and violent storms would quickly find themselves soaked to the skin by the stinging, furious downpour. Locals knew to stay indoors during these deluges, while any hapless visitors learned a hard, fast lesson.
Inside the Marauder, though, it was safe, and warm, and dry. The ship was in low-power mode, illuminated only by a few glowing control panels and the dim light filtering through the sheets of water that coursed down the viewports. You curled on the cramped, narrow bunk, your head on Tech’s chest and his long legs entwined with yours as you listened to the insistent hammering of raindrops on the durasteel hull of the ship. The steady, rhythmic beat of his heart thrummed beneath your ear, and as you rested your hand on his shoulder, your finger tapped softly in time with his pulse.
He traced his fingertips lazily down the bare skin of your arm until he reached your hand, gently enfolding it in the warmth of his own as he pressed his lips to the top of your head. You savored every nanosecond of the rare and treasured privacy the storm had afforded you, alone in the ship while the rest of the Batch were tucked away in Cid’s dingy parlor, waiting for the rain to end.
Your head rose and fell subtly with each breath of his lungs, the soft warmth of each exhale drifting across your skin. The tension drained from your body as you relaxed into him, and you struggled to resist the inevitable, seductive allure of sleep.
“We should probably get dressed before the others come back,” you whispered.
“We should,” he replied in a soft tone. “But by my calculations, the storm will likely persist for at least two more hours.”
You laughed quietly. “Your calculations? Is that why you ‘urgently required my assistance with repairs’ this morning?”
“I thought it was obvious.”
---
Want to request a ficlet? Check out this list of prompts!
More Tech cuddles here! More Bad Batch fics: Hunter fluff; Hunter spice; Crosshair hurt comfort; Crosshair fluff
Taglist:
@secondaryrealm @sev-on-kamino @523rdrebel @wings-and-beskar @merkitty49
@anxiouspineapple99 @sinfulsalutations @arcsimper5 @starrylothcat @clio3kantarella
@cloneloverrrrr @goblininawig @ladytano420 @arctrooper69 @sunshinesdaydream
@littlemissmanga @stunkbiggu @starqueensthings @marierg @idontgetanysleep
@moonlightwarriorqueen @dudewhynotthis @sleepycreativewriter @tcwmatchmakingau @littlemissbshine
@multi-fan-dom-madness @heavenseed76 @wizardofrozz @bobaprint @sweetcream-coldfoam
@skellymom @pickleprickle @trixie2023 @mythical-illustrator @dickarchivist
@cw80831 @kimiheartblade @flyiingsly @lightwise @swcowgal
@reader6898 @cdblake1565 @epicy0n @starstofillmydream @msmeredithrose
@totallyunidentified @eclec-tech @euphoriacafe @hipwell @yve-barr
@dangraccoon
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the-tech-turn · 2 months ago
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UNFINISHED
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Summary: Crosshair finds Tech's old journal and reads through it.
Word Count: 1,136
Warnings: Angst, mentions of death, s2 spoiler
A/N: This takes place right after the ending of episode 4 s3. I AM SO SORRY THIS TOOK SO LONG FOR ME TO FINISH I PROCRASTINATED TO HARD! This was supposed to be my 50 follower celebration but now it's the 151 followers celebration! Now everyone say thank you to my bestie for peer pressuring me into finishing this and proof-reading this.
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The moment Crosshair walked onto the ship after reuniting with his brothers he felt like something was off. He knew Tech was no longer with them but as he looked toward Hunter in the pilot's seat he knew it was wrong. That was Tech’s seat. Tech was supposed to fly. Tech was supposed to be there. Tech was supposed to be here. Yes, Crosshair may have reunited with his family but not all of them. Not his genius brother who would never stop talking. Oh, what he would give to hear his voice geek about different kinds of insects or Wookie culture. Crosshair gets up from his seat and walks into the barracks. He walked up to Tech’s bunk staring at all the projects that would never be finished. Gently, he moved the projects enough to sit but still kept them in relatively the same spot. He didn’t want to disturb Tech’s things. ‘He never let us near them anyways,’ he remembered. He threw his head back, a mere attempt at holding back his tears. He missed his brother. Then a thought came into his mind. A long time ago Crosshair had given him a notebook. A real paper notebook. Tech hasn't used it much since “ It is a precious gift that I do not intend to misuse.” He wondered if he ever had used it. He looks around his bunk seeing nothing. He looks under the bunk and in every place that he can think of to find the book. But he couldn’t. ‘Maybe he lost it or threw it away. Wow, Tech, really showing its “value”, he pauses. ‘ Or maybe…it was on Kamino.’ He didn’t like thinking about it much, but the day the city he was raised in drowned was the day he lost all of his memories as a cadet. He recalled the time he first gave Wrecker Lula. Or the time Hunter had come up with the name the “ The Bad Batch”. Or when he found Tech’s hiding place for his datapad. The memory reminded Crosshair of the hiding spot he and Tech used on the ship. Crosshair used it to store his toothpicks, but Tech used it to hide what he deemed valuable.
‘Maybe, just maybe, it was in there.’ Crosshair crawls across the bed stopping when he gets to the edge of the bed. He reaches over to the side of his bed and carefully pries open a panel. With his hand, he searches for the notebook in the dark box until he locates the small red booklet. He grabs the book and flips through it. ‘Yep, he definitely wrote in it,’ but as Crosshair continued to flip through pages he realized just how many pages were blank. Never to be written in. Never to be drawn on. He got up and sat on Tech’s bunk once more. He opened the book, analyzing the handwriting. He saw how the handwriting improved with every entry. While skimming the book one word caught his attention. “Race”. Omega has told him about the time they were bodyguards for someone named Cid and Tech was forced to race to keep everyone safe. “ What’s so important about a mission on some sketchy planet?” Crosshair wonders. There was only one way to find out so he started reading.
I had won the race (obviously) but to my surprise, the crowd cheered which is not uncommon at such events. I've heard their screams since I arrived. I also had full confidence in my ability, but hearing them chant my name with so much excitement, along with the praise from my siblings, I felt an overwhelming joy. All my life I had been made fun of, due to my enhancement. Mainly by regs, I have also endured endless teasing from my brother's thanks to my constant "rambling". It no longer bothered me much but it took a lot of self-reassurance to get to such a point. Little praise was given to me, the only source of which came from my brothers. No one else had a reason to provide that to me for it was my purpose. But now there are hundreds if not thousands of people admiring my skill. It felt nice, to say the least. 
Crosshair gave a soulful smile. ‘ He had been mocked all his life, and I participated in it,’ he admitted sorrowfully, ‘At least, he didn’t hold it against me.’ Crosshair lets out a sigh and flips to another page. Crosshair pauses, his name on the page. Hesitantly he begins reading, afraid of Tech’s true feelings towards him after everything. He could only hope his brother didn’t think poorly of him.
Omega asked me why I didn't care about Echo leaving us and while I think I responded appropriately the interaction got me thinking about Crosshair again. I’ve tried to forget, but that plan was flawed. How was I supposed to ignore him if I didn’t want to? I eventually came to accept his decision but that didn’t mean it didn’t hurt. In all honesty, I miss the times when we’d cause trouble in the mess hall. I miss when we’d compete in who shot more droids. I miss the moments when I work on a project and he’d sit next to me and clean his rifle. I miss when we would be up at the latest hours when I would ramble about anything and everything while he’d try his best to stay awake. He enjoyed sleeping a lot so it was difficult for him, but I appreciate what he did. I miss when things were simpler- no that is incorrect. I do not miss fighting for the republic. Back then we had to risk our lives, we were mistreated, we didn’t have Omega and we couldn’t choose for ourselves. I miss Crosshair. But I don’t think I’ll see him again. But, if there's one thing certain about Crosshair is his loyalty. That was evident when he stayed with the Empire. It never falters but it can shift when the loyalty isn’t mutual. I believe that is why he left us. When we denied the Empire he felt that we denied him. I do not regret leaving the Empire but I do regret not taking Crosshair with us. I find myself replaying recordings of him when I am in need comfort. It’s the closest thing that I have to him with me.
Tears threatened to fall from his eyes. He should’ve come back sooner. If he had his brother would still be here. Crosshair looked around the room and studied it. He sees Tech’s projects, equations, and blueprints. All are things that Tech never got to finish. Looking down towards the journal, Crosshair decided to complete writing on the book. So it didn’t have to remain unfinished. 
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EXTRA: Here's some old art I made when first promoting this fic.
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Android (Leona) AU - Commission Piece
Thank you so much @nemisisnemi for the commission!!! (And for also being patient with me LMAO) So, general worldbuilding first, the basic headcanons for every character, Leona-specific building and a Nemi x Leona drabble to finish it off.
If you enjoy my writing and would like to support me, here's my (slightly out of date) comms info. Otherwise, just like/reblog/comment. It means a lot!!
----------------- General Worldbuilding
NRC - Night Raven Conglomerate
Night Raven Conglomerate is known globally for many of their businesses, however their most notable and profitable model comes from Yokai Tech Industries. YTI is responsible for the development of state of the art androids, available for public use. While widely referred to as 'andy's' or 'mechs', YTI has a model for all your personal and business needs, for any budget. (Any budget being from rich, to filthy rich) Each droid model name is indicative of it's role and what it's been programmed to do. Regardless of model, be aware that your bot will have:
Safe search on
A personality chip *please note it will take some time for your bot to develop its personality. It must cater itself to you as an owner and have time to research and develop a personality from external sources. This may mean your bot chooses a name for itself besides its serial number if you do not choose to disable this function
A direct connection to our troubleshooting department
Recording on **all bots 'eyes' or optics are set to record the world around them in order to create a database for themselves and be able to recall old files in order to learn
A user guide and personal password/key in order to access settings in back panel (including most items above)
A recharge station
The Models M.E.C.H- (Managing Everyday Chores and Homemaking) The most common bots on the market, and also, the cheapest! These bots are perfect for individuals and families, taking care of everything from meal planning and budgeting to getting kids ready for school and cleaning! They'll manage household finances and run your errands for you.
M.E.C.H's have a humanoid design, but are manufactured in a white-coloured metal alloy. Most have a feminine appearance, but by request/with permission from their owners they may alter their appearance. Clothing is simulated by internet research and metallic projections that allow them to emulate cloth. (M.E.C.Hs from the factory are often dressed in a maid-like outfit or in a pant suit.) M.E.C.H's are able to alter their "hair" style and colour, so long as it is considered appropriate by their owners. They are also able to shift their height slightly. (this design is somewhat inspired by Dominic Cellini on twt/insta)
M.E.C.H's are very durable and also easy to fix. They are capable of repairing themselves from damage after watching a mechanic fix the specific issue once, or contacting our troubleshooting team. M.E.C.H's are waterproof on their hands, and water resistant overall. They are fire resistant, and are equipped with safety measures in case of an emergency. They also have a direct line with 911. **A business model of M.E.C.H is also available for minimum wage jobs, usually those requiring hospitality skills. They are more susceptible to the emulation of emotion however, than the O.T.T.O model, and may shut down when dealing with a customer. This can usually be avoided by turning off the personality chip temporarily.
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O.T.T.O - Occupational Transport and Telecommunications Organizers (O.T.T.O) is a great model to consider for the workplace.
O.T.T.O bots are programmed to help increase efficiency and intrapersonal bonds in the workplace, comparable to an automated secretary. O.T.T.O bots do the following up, so you don't have to. Progress reports and statistics are created and analyzed in record time. They are also trained to deal with H.R conflicts in a calculated and unbiased manner. However, O.T.T.O bots have also recently been taking their place behind the wheel for public transportation, currently the only model approved to drive. So long as they are given ample time to either charge OR refuel, (like a car), they are a much safer option on the roads than humans are. They are a great choice as a chauffeur,( and YTI has proved as such by starting a cab company under a different name/brand.)
On public transit, their appearance is much more industrial than their office-working models. Most O.T.T.O bots tend to remain in their factory settings, remaining completely chrome in colour. They often maintain a bulkier looking chest and shoulder area for the sake of keeping potentially unruly costumers in check, though their arms and legs are capable of stretching and appear similar to bendy straws.
While these bots are reliable, they also seem susceptible to wear and tear. It's often cheaper to replace a bot when it no longer serves it's function properly. (cough cough planned obsolescence cough)
It is not recommended that these bots work in hospitality. YTI is currently working on O.T.T.O bots that may be considered for work in trades, though this has mixed reviews from the public as of right now, over concerns of the bots taking over jobs that require more certification than simple safety and a driver's license.
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EM-RR - Emergency Response Robot (often referred to as an "Emery")
This bot is built specifically with human safety in mind. It's only objective is to rescue human lives. These bots are manufactured to look like humans for the most part, as studies have shown receptiveness to being rescued was improved the more humanoid they appeared. These bots are equipped with basic paramedic training, fire fighting, extensive knowledge of the law and how it applies, medical equipment like that found on an ambulance, and search and rescue supplies, including a detachable drone that is a part of them. EM-RR's are also equipped with extra rations of food, water, blankets, toys, and radios. Besides M.E.C.H's, EM-RR's are the best bot to have around kids as they are often able to handle the responsibility, breakdowns and tantrums easily. These bots are also built to withstand extreme temperatures, pressures, and fluids.
They are not yet approved to operate in a rescue mission without a supervisor as many are still learning what does and does not harm a human in terms of handling them.
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E.L.U - Entertainment and Leisure Unit
These bots are made for the big screen, often boasting the newest and best technology YTI has to offer. Their appearances are highly dynamic and can switch on a dime according to their whims.
E.L.U's can only be afforded by the highest bidders, and only 1200 models have been made worldwide for the public to buy. (About 35 models are used for YTI's ad campaigns and as actors in movies, and of those models, only 1 is used as a social media 'influencer'.).
E.L.U's are equipped with exceptional emotion-imitating technology. They are able to replicate voices without issue, learn choreography immediately, possess perfect pitch, and are capable of playing any percussion or string instrument.
E.L.U's have been through the most rigorous testing and development. While being able to sustain damage fairly easily, nanotech allows for superficial markings and damages to repair itself. Any damage that occurs on a software level is unheard of, but would be covered by insurance. At least, unheard of to the public
----- Custom Bots (The YTI is currently working to develop a 'build your own bot' program for young aspiring engineers. The program will allow promising individuals to create a new android using the technology available to them in the facility, and also lead to streamlining the process by which someone could order a custom bot. Prototypes have been promising.)
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Rapid Fire World Building
Riddle - human toddler Trey - EM-RR - Firefighting specialty Cater - lives at home (mansion) with his dad, who is a banker and investor of Y.T.I Deuce - Mechanic Ace - Was the Roseheart's M.E.C.H, took care of Riddle, began to disobey orders from Dr. Rosehearts, was slightly dismantled and discarded of Leona - Explained Below (E.L.U) Ruggie - O.T.T.O bot, mainly working in taxis. Very friendly, has to do constant maintenance on himself so they don't take him out of service Jack - Mechanics assistant, M.E.C.H Azul - inherited his grandma's restaurant, investor of Y.T.I, has several M.E.C.H's at his disposal Jade - is set to take over his mother's jewelry business Floyd - no formal training as a mechanic, does the upkeep for the Ashengrotto restaurant. Has mixed feelings about the M.E.C.H's, sometimes breaks them just to put them back together Jamil - a hybrid of all three bots, meant to attend to Kalim. Has additional security measures built in place to act as a guard. Kalim - human, investor and advocate for android rights, as he believes they exist beyond just their programming and should be treated equally Vil - E.L.U owned by Eric Venue. Hates it. Rook - EM-RR - search and rescue specialty Epel - Mechanic. Doesn't really like Y.T.I's inventions. Too close to humans Idia - head engineer of Y.T.I. Can you guess why :) Ortho - DECEASED E.L.U model Malleus - a discarded prototype of the E.L.U model. The workers at Y.T.I believe it's battery is dead, but it has been able to hear everything around it for ages. Kept in the discard area, not even used for parts due to issues that came up during testing. "Cursed" Lilia - one of the engineers at Y.T.I. Starting to question whether the use of A.I was a good idea, the more he works with the newer and newer models. Silver - M.E.C.H's original prototype. It's "old" now, and does not hold a charge well. It is good friends with all the engineers and other workers at Y.T.I. Constantly has a mobile charging pack. Sebek - EM-RR, forensics specialty
Leona Specific Worldbuilding
Falena Kingscholar was one of the first investors for Y.T.I. For the sake of PR and as CEO of his late father's clothing company, he deemed his contributions to Y.T.I's research as charity - such a stunning new invention, such innovation could do so much to improve the lives of those less fortunate. He sealed the deal with action when, on M.E.C.H release day, he bought 250 models to give out at random.
Some might make the mistake of thinking he's a selfless man.
As one of the largest investors in Y.T.I, he is given advanced access to latest models, often receiving a prototype after development has been approved. As such, when he heard E.L.U. models were soon going to be able to customized, he approached the owner with a deal he simply couldn't turn down.
So four weeks ahead of schedule, after hours of video footage had been submitted, interviews, photographs, memories retold, AI training, the semblance of his late younger brother stood in his living room, though slightly less...organic, so to speak.
At first it was alright. E.L.U - C 12515141 Was equipped with the knowledge that it's name was to be Leona, it's pronouns from there on were to be he/him, and Falena Kingscholar had requested him to maintain a "brotherly" relationship with him. While he wasn't entirely sure what that meant yet, he agreed. He had been given the videos in his memory banks as to who he was meant to imitate after all.
Leona tried - but to be honest, there was very little footage of the boy he was meant to resemble that offered information about his personality. He mitigated this by asking Falena to take a short questionnaire regarding which siblings in media he wanted him to imitate.
When Leona got his answers however, the patterns didn't line up. The boys he saw in the videos did not match the dynamics Falena had selected.
He saw videos over and over and over again where Falena was the subject, and the boy he was meant to imitate was nothing more than a background character. Secondary.
Now, maybe it was the push to develop him so quickly, so something was overlooked, or maybe it was just how evolution was meant to take place in a machine as novel as he, but something changed about his programming, about his personality.
If the living boy had been nothing but an understudy for the success his elder brother had come out to be....what did that make him? A replacement for someone who was never truly cared for? Built to be a coping mechanism for someone who regretted their decisions? All he was, was the embodiment of Falena's guilt, and a pillar to be Falena's redemption. He wasn't built to be loved, or enjoyed, or even for entertainment, he was built from man's selfishness.
In the following weeks, Leona tried to keep to his programming, but between processing and cross referencing and research on both the family itself and the psychology that he would be expected to have, he started to lapse more. He would write off slips of the "tongue" as "glitches" or his body language began to become more pronounced, usually in regards to annoyance. In between it all, he was trying to figure out if he was experiencing real human emotions about this all...or if it was all just part of the programming.
Eventually, Leona's internal conflict got to be too much. Violent tendencies and impulses began to arise, resulting in him damaging himself, shutting down randomly to avoid external conflict, and an otherwise unexpected disposition.
He listened into the phone number Falena made to send him in for repairs to his "personality chip." Leona took it as a threat, and immediately blocked all outgoing signals to Y.T.I temporarily to find a way to remove his personality chip on his own. Using bathroom tools, the mirror, and damaged pieces of himself, he all but performed surgery on himself to remove it - only to be horrified to realize all the "simulated" emotions he thought he had were still very much present. Unsure what to do, he stored the chip in one of his compartments, out the window and ran.
He was blacking in and out as he went, from the sheer panic he felt but tried to keep under wraps. It wasn't until he made it to a junk yard, where he could bury himself in scraps to hide that he finally let himself dive into power saving mode, sitting silently for who knows how long.
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Nemi x Leona Drabble
Battery Charged - 100% All Systems Back Online Rebooting Programming. . . Programming Error Detected - Contact Y.T.I? Yes No
"No. No don't contact Y.T.I." Nemi muttered softly, fighting the grime on their fingers to make the touchscreen respond.
It wasn't very often that Nemi or any of the junkyard crew found anything of value - at most maybe half a M.E.C.H or a catalytic converter if they were lucky - but a fully in tact, possibly operational E.L.U was unheard of. It was genuine too. How it had ended up in the junkyard was beyond him, but he wouldn't forsake the powers that be that left such a project to fall into his hands.
He rubbed his fingers on the cloth set over his shoulder, trying again to hit the button on the screen. To his relief, it finally registered.
Y.T.I Services can be contacted throu- (tap, uninterested) If your bot is not perf- (tap, that's what I'm here for...) System's Calibrating . . . System Calibration Complete E.L.U C 12515141 At Your Service, Courtesy of Y.T.I
The screen finally flickered black, before the metal beneath it flickered into the appearance the bot had had last, it's hand coming up to touch it's head as if it had a headache, it's "nose" scrunched as if it were in pain. The optics opened and shut a few times, the gentle whirr of fans blowing out dust and dirt build up that apparently, Nemi hadn't cleaned out thoroughly enough.
Whether the bot itself groaned, or it was it's internal workings coming back to life wasn't distinguishable, but Nemi stayed on his knees next to it as it seemed to slowly adjust to it's new surroundings. It squinted slightly, locking eyes with Nemi before glancing around the humble workshop.
It wasn't until it lowered it's arm it noticed that the chrome finish was no longer there - hell, the damage from his arm was gone. It was slightly bulkier than the other, but all in all, with a little buffing it would be good as new again.
It opened and closed it's hand experimentally, as if processing it was functioning like before.
"...You did this?" The bot's once blue optics much more closely resembled brilliant green eyes, scrutinizing the work of the supposed mechanic next to him.
Nemi swallowed hard, unsure what, exactly about this bot made him feel slightly uncomfortable, but cleared his throat and nodded, gently taking the bot's arm in his hands and turning it to show the carefully soldered metal, just the smallest glimpse of the wires beneath it.
"Yeah, I did. Um, you were partially crushed by a refrigerator? I think it fell on you from higher up in the stack, so I did my best to repair your arm myself. I...I may have taken apart your other arm to make sure I could make the servos match up properly, but everything's good as new. Promise. Name's Nemi, by the way."
The bot stayed quiet a moment longer, now looking down at both it's arms.
"....Why? I was supposed to be scrapped."
The bot finally moved, but only to tilt it's head back til it touched the wall, bringing a knee up to rest one of it's newly repaired arms on it, and closing its eyes. If it could sigh, Nemi was fairly certain it would have.
He adjusted himself, sitting flat on the ground instead, regarding the bot in some confusion.
"But you're an E.L.U. Nobody would just throw you away or, gods forbid, use you for parts. Any self respecting mechanic or robofanatic would repair you. You're gorgeous, top of the line, most sought after kinda model....how'd you end up out here anyways?"
The bot didn't seem to like that question, it's auxiliary power cord flicking, not unlike that of a cat as it looked away.
"Does it matter?"
Can a robot have an existential crisis? The thought passed through Nemi's mind, but he just shrugged in response.
"Not really. But it'd be kind of nice to know your name if you want to stick around here."
Nemi was met with an immediate glare of disdain.
"I'm not gonna follow your orders. Somethin' about defective programming probably came up on my reboot, right?"
Nemi shrugged again.
"Yeah, but you seem fine. Actually you seem like a lot more fun than most M.E.C.H's. I'm not going to make you do anything you don't want to, but it would be nice to have a friend here."
The bot remained silent, looking away from Nemi. The silence stretched on for a while, before it finally let out a slightly exasperated sound.
"You can stop staring. You can also...call me Leona."
Nemi couldn't help but smile a bit, extending a hand to shake.
"It's nice to meet you."
--------------------------------- OTL thank you again for the comm, hope this was up to expectation and also tag list time! @fluffle-writes @my-cursed-brain @distant-velleity @elenauaurs @lumdays @theleechyskrunkly
DM to be added/taken off ^^
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