#oc marina

[leenathegreengirl]

Tech's Encrypted Files Entry 2

Tech's Encrypted Files [Initiating connection…] [Connection successful. Transmitting…] Subject: Tech - Personal Journal Entry 2

I’ve observed a shift recently. It’s subtle, but undeniable. What was once a straightforward, platonic dynamic with Marina has transitioned into something more complicated—more physical. I miscalculated the extent to which her attractiveness would influence the relationship. Initially, I presumed it was only her presence, her energy, that I was reacting to, but there is more at play here. The evening we watched the migration of deep-sea fish crystallized this shift for me. I felt an overwhelming emotional response, not due to the fish themselves, but because of something within me that had been repressed for a long time.

Watching those bioluminescent creatures in the dark depths made something within me... surface. I can’t articulate it entirely, but I felt it—an emotional reaction I haven’t allowed myself to experience in a long time. I realized that, for years, I’d been holding back parts of myself. I’ve kept them suppressed, thinking them unnecessary, illogical, or counterproductive. But with Marina, I find myself revisiting those parts of me. They’re not as inconvenient as I once believed. And with her, I feel a sense of safety that makes it possible to confront them without fear.

When we embraced that night, the feeling was different. It wasn’t just physical proximity; it was a release, a clarity I hadn’t anticipated. The impulse was natural, unforced. And for the first time in a long time, I didn’t overanalyze. I simply existed in that moment. The shift wasn’t intellectual. It was more intuitive than I’m accustomed to.

I’ll admit, I owe Crosshair an "I told you so." Though I know he’d never expand on his analysis of my situation, I do acknowledge he understood my feelings better than I did. He’s more perceptive in certain areas than I am. But even now, I’m still processing the full extent of this new dynamic with Marina. I’m not sure I have the complete understanding I’d prefer, but I recognize that something significant has changed.

There’s something else I need to address. The timing of this development. The divorce with Leena was largely amicable, but it was recent. We’ve been apart for only a few months. I did not initiate the split until recently, though emotionally I had been detached from the relationship for much longer. That detachment wasn’t immediate. It took a time to fully disengage, but once it did, it became clear that the connection between us was no longer what it once was. Leena and I drifted, and the emotional separation occurred gradually—though I wasn’t always forthcoming about it. Now, I find myself in a position where I’ve met someone new, and it feels... premature.

I recognize that others may find this problematic, especially considering how quickly things have progressed with Marina. I’m concerned it will upset people we care about, those who were close to both Leena and me. Perhaps they’ll view this as a violation of some kind of emotional decorum. But the truth is, I am a single man now, and I don’t owe anyone an explanation. I do, however, carry some guilt. I’m still adjusting to the fact that I’m no longer part of a couple, and it’s difficult to balance the guilt of moving on so quickly with the reality that I’ve been emotionally separated for some time. It’s hard to reconcile those two thoughts.

What I don’t want is to feel like I’m carrying the burden of other people’s expectations. I’ve processed my own detachment from the marriage, even if it’s not yet fully understood by those around me. I’m not obligated to continue carrying that guilt just because I’m now technically single. I’ve reached the point where I’m allowed to move forward, regardless of external opinions.

I also need to clarify that I do wish the best for Leena. It’s clear now that I never fully allowed her in, though I do not believe she ever did anything to deserve that. I was too rigid, too prideful, and I see that now. She deserves happiness, and I hope she finds it with someone who can appreciate her as she should be. I certainly wasn’t fair to her in that regard. We were ultimately; misaligned.

As for Marina, the relationship between us is undefined. It has evolved from something purely friendly into something more intimate, but I have no clear framework to label it yet. There’s no need to rush that process. I am content to let it evolve naturally, without imposing unnecessary labels. That alone feels like growth for my personal development.

I’ve noticed that the comfort and attraction I feel toward Marina are rooted in something complex. There’s something deeply aligned between us—her quirks, her mannerisms, her approach to the world, as they resonate with me in a way few people do. I’ve always been... different, in ways I’ve struggled to articulate. It’s not that I don’t understand others, but there’s a level of connection I’ve rarely found. Marina’s presence doesn’t require an explanation, nor do her behaviors feel foreign. She operates in a similar space, with a mentality and rhythm I recognize. I can be myself with her in ways I’ve never allowed anyone else. This connection feels natural.

I will, however, keep this to myself for now. I am not prepared to discuss it with anyone—not yet, at least. I need time to understand what this is before I share it with others. The uncertainty of the situation, the ambiguity, makes it easier to keep it private until Marina and I have a clearer understanding of where this is heading.

In the meantime, I can’t ignore the potential for something positive here. The emotional openness I’ve been avoiding for years out of my own fear, is starting to feel possible again. There’s a sense of optimism in that, even if I don’t have all the answers yet. I’m simply allowing myself to explore this without the constraints I’ve put on myself for so long.

And maybe, just maybe, this is the beginning of something I’ve been denying myself for far too long.

End transmission.

A more detailed account HERE

Tag List:

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream @rex-targaryen @freesia-writes @heidnspeak @queenjiru @commanderfury @kyda-atshushi @deezlees

@thebadbatchfan @justanotherdikutsimp

@aknightreader

Art by @leenathegreengirl

Story by @legacygirlingreen (OC Marina belongs to her)

[milksetters]

sister, why have you forsaken me?

[legacygirlingreen]

"Lady by the Sea" (1/2) || Tech x OC Marina || NSFW

Author's Note: Hi friends! I wanted to pop in briefly before this one with a few important reminders. This is part of of a larger AU created by my friend @leenathegreengirl and I. Decisions have been and will always be agreed upon mutually, including the way this story was written. As always, she is responsible for the beautiful cover art (full image at the bottom of the text). Additionally, I'd like to take the time to remind readers that I am an autistic adult. I have been diagnosed since I was a young child - shocking since I was a child during the early 2000s when most doctors believed that cases of autism in girls was virtually non existent/only presented in the stereotypical representation of males. And while I'm not trying to reopen the debate on if Tech is/isn't autistic and/or a good representation of autism, I will continue to write him with those tendencies. There are many things I see in myself (and how it manifests for myself personally) in his canon character. Same can be said for how I write Marina. So I wanted to provide some explanation for those who maybe don't have much up close experience with autism. This installment does include stimming. Stimming can be done for a variety of reasons and look different for every person. I stim when I am nervous. I stim when I am angry. I stim when I am happy and the variety of each of those actions differs depending on how I need to regulate my emotions. "Happy stimming" can look different from person to person, but a common form of this is flapping one's hands/arms. I, admittedly struggled to put this action into words and when discussing it with my real life partner he did express that while the body language itself may appear awkward (the movement can look a bit stiff), he still finds it endearing as a person who loves and respects me. I am sure when you reach that portion, you will understand what I am referring to. Additionally, the concept of masking is described in this. While I did not blatantly use words like 'stimming' or 'masking', please note that I hoped to convey these in a way that shows how they act in reality. Autistic people usually learn to mask their more physical manifestations in order to fit in. I am no exception. So when writing this piece it did become a bit cathartic to express Tech learning to overcome 'masking' as he views Marina expressing her own stims without fear or worry. Anyways, I hope that these concepts come across alright - I do struggle to put my experiences as a person who's been diagnosed even after all this time. But I am more than happy to continue the conversation with anyone wanting to know more. Thanks for reading this slightly longer note/disclaimer. Also, this will have a part 2 I plan to get up next Tuesday! Happy Reading, M

Pairing: Tech x OC Marina

Rating: NSFW

Word Count: 13.3k

Warnings: mentions of nudity, mentions of passionate embraces, mentions of slight childhood bullying, brief mentions of divorce/widowhood

Summary: Tech accompanies his new friend with examining a deep sea fish migration and gets more than he bargained for...

Masterlist | Tech's Encrypted Files | Previous | Next

Tech immersed himself in all material he could find about the mōlī fish migrations, reading up on every documented detail ahead of the evening. All Marina had mentioned was that the creatures surfaced near Pabu’s beaches only once every few years, and that the event itself was a spectacle worth witnessing. That alone piqued his interest—deep-sea fish capable of rising to the surface was an extraordinary phenomenon, especially considering that the pressure of the ocean only shifted enough to allow such a migration in a rare, cyclical pattern.

The fish’s ability to glow with their own internal light as they navigated the depths was both scientifically fascinating and naturally awe-inspiring. To say that Tech was intrigued was an understatement. His mind, always attuned to the marvels of biology and the natural world, buzzed with the possibilities of what he might learn from observing such a rare event.

Ever since that day when Marina had acknowledged his appearance, Tech had begun to feel something strange whenever she was near. It wasn’t unpleasant, but it was certainly unfamiliar—an unexpected shift in his usual equilibrium. At times, his heart would race, an irregular thudding in his chest that caught him off guard. His palms would sweat, an odd dampness that seemed to appear out of nowhere. There was a warmth that would spread through his bloodstream, almost as if his body was responding to some hidden signal. And if he happened to look at her for too long, a dizzying lightness would sweep over him, as if the world itself had momentarily tilted.

He couldn't quite make sense of it. These phenomenological responses weren’t things he typically experienced, and they didn't follow the same logic as his usual responses to stimuli. He knew something was happening—he could feel it, this strange stirring within him that didn’t quite fit into any of the categories he usually applied to his own emotional or physical states. But what was it? Perhaps an allergy to a fragrance she wore? That seemed the most likely given he only experienced the changes when she was closer in proximity to him.

Despite the confusion, there was a part of him that couldn’t deny the underlying excitement that pulsed beneath all of it. It was an energy he hadn’t felt before, an electric current that surged through him whenever the marine biologist was near, even if he couldn't pinpoint the exact cause. 

But the strangest part was that he couldn’t explain why this felt so important. He had a tendency to dissect everything in his life, to categorize things, break them down, and understand them through logic. Yet, no matter how much he tried to apply his usual methods of analysis, this sensation didn’t fit neatly into any of his mental boxes. It was as though his mind was searching for patterns, but finding none, which only heightened his fascination. The more he thought about it, the more he realized that when she was around, the world seemed to shift just a little, like everything was suddenly more vivid, more... alive. 

And more than that, he felt an overwhelming sense of ease, as though there was no need to explain himself. The quirks and behaviors he had spent years trying to suppress—the very things that had made him feel alienated, even from those closest to him—suddenly didn't seem to matter. In Marina, he saw reflections of those traits he had long struggled with, the things that had once set him apart in a way that felt isolating. Yet in her presence, those differences didn’t feel like barriers but like an unspoken bond, a quiet understanding between them. The relief was profound, deeper than he realized. It wasn’t just that Marina accepted him; she seemed to instinctively know him in a way that was both rare and deeply comforting. In her, he found a kindred spirit—a mirror of sorts—that reassured him he wasn’t so alone in the world after all.

Marina was more than she appeared. While she had a sharp, scientific mind and a direct approach to life, she also embodied the culture of her people. A native of Pabu—an uncommon heritage, as most were refugees like him—she held tight to their distinctive culture. Her connection to their physical traditions, like tattoos, and her reverence for the moon and tide cycles, reflected a harmony that enhanced both her analytical side as a scientist and her spirituality in a way that was rhythmic. Having never fully been able to do the same, he found it interesting one could walk that line with grace and ease. Particularly the way in which she framed her scientific discoveries as something noble and worthy of protecting simply for their beauty.

It was a quality he was finding increasingly admirable. 

After presenting his findings to Crosshair, Tech had been met with a curt, dismissive response. His brother, in typical fashion, had simply called him a “kriffing idiot” before shutting down any further discussion. Tech, as always, had tried to prod for more details, to understand why his findings—his observations—were being so lightly dismissed. But Crosshair had only shrugged, a smirk playing at the corner of his lips as he said, “You’ll figure it out eventually.”

Tech, unsurprisingly, had no doubts that he would eventually crack the puzzle. He always did, after all. But the response, or rather, the lack of one, left him feeling oddly disappointed. He couldn’t pinpoint why exactly, but there was something about Crosshair’s refusal to elaborate that gnawed at him. It wasn’t just the dismissive tone—Tech was used to that—but the evasiveness, the unwillingness to help him interpret the strange phenomenon that had been so consuming. His brother’s typical bluntness had given way to a kind of aloofness that felt out of character, and it left Tech feeling as though something important had slipped just out of reach.

Tech wondered if it was stemming from his brother’s proximity to his ex wife. Kayden and Leena were twins after all. Perhaps it had something to do with his loyalty to his fiance and thus her family, that he remained so tight lipped. It also might stem from the one bad interaction that Marina had experienced with Crosshair, getting under his skin in a way Tech knew would be hard to rectify - even if he did believe his brother to be in the wrong. Regardless, Crosshair was not willing to help and that left Tech on his own to figure out what the feelings meant on his own. 

And yet, Tech refused to let the confusion dampen his plans for the evening. He was determined to help his friend with her research, and in doing so, witnessed a rare scientific phenomenon that only a few were privileged enough to observe. The other, more personal aspects of his curiosity—those feelings of comfort that had begun to stir within him—would have to wait. There was no need to try to interpret them just yet, especially when there was so much data to be gathered. He could analyze the rest later, on his own time.

So, as Tech made his way down the familiar island path, his footsteps light but purposeful, he found himself reflecting on the strange sense of urgency that had overtaken him as he prepared for the evening. He had spent more time than usual adjusting his appearance before leaving his domicile—straightening his shirt, making sure his hair didn’t have cowlicks, even using a bit of fragrance he usually found overwhelming. Normally, he didn’t care much for such details, but tonight felt different. There was a subtle pressure to look “right,” though he couldn’t quite articulate why he felt the need.  It was irrational - something Tech rarely allowed himself to indulge - but for some odd reason he couldn’t stop. 

The evening air was cool as he walked, the full moon casting a soft, silvery glow across the horizon. His path was dimly lit by the lamp he carried, the small light barely enough to illuminate the trail beneath his feet. The wind tugged at the edges of his shirt and ruffled his short brown hair, but Tech barely noticed. His mind was elsewhere, caught up in the quiet hum of the night and the curiosity that continued to pulse beneath his skin.

As Tech neared the dock, his heart seemed to beat a little faster, his steps subtly quickening as if the evening’s arrival had suddenly become more tangible. The familiar sound of the gentle waves lapping against the shore was drowned out by the heightened rhythm of his thoughts. He was almost there—so close now—and yet, the closer he got, the more acutely aware he became of the small details that he’d never cared about before.

Reaching the end of the path, where the dock stretched out over the water, Tech paused for a brief moment. He took a slow, steadying breath and looked down at himself again, though he knew he had already checked his appearance at least three times before leaving. His shirt—hanging loosely over his waistband, as if that made any difference—felt too tight in some places, too loose in others. His hands hovered awkwardly over his clothes, as if trying to adjust them, but they didn’t need adjusting. His boots, polished to an extent that he rarely bothered with, seemed to gleam in the dim light, too pristine for someone who spent most of his time in the lab or among machinery.

He wasn’t sure what had come over him. He never worried about these small, superficial details. But tonight, as the torch light swayed gently in the wind beside him, something inside his chest fluttered, and he couldn’t stop himself from second-guessing every movement, every decision. Did normal people behave this irregularly in the face of unresolved tension? The thought flickered in his mind before he quickly dismissed it. He was overthinking. He knew that. But even as he tried to calm his nerves, a persistent hum of uncertainty remained.

He glanced at his reflection in the dark water below, seeing only fragments of his face on the moonlit surface. There was nothing out of the ordinary about his appearance, nothing to suggest that this evening was anything different from the others.

Tech took a step onto the dock, the familiar sound of the wooden planks creaking beneath his boots seemed unusually loud in the stillness of the night. His nerves were on edge, his heartbeat pulsing in his ears, and just as he neared the end of the dock, he saw movement ahead. Marina’s head appeared around the corner of the houseboat’s door, just enough for him to catch sight of her. She didn’t step out fully, but her eyes locked on him immediately, and a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. 

“You made it,” she called out, her voice carrying a slightly higher pitch than usual. There was a certain brightness in her tone that stood out, almost at odds with her usual reserved demeanor. His heart did a strange little flip at the sound. It was unexpected, and yet, not unwelcome. He had grown used to her more measured, often serious way of speaking, especially when it came to her work. But tonight, her voice carried a volume and enthusiasm that felt almost unfamiliar, and the shift was enough to make his chest tighten. “Come on in,” she added with an encouraging smile. “You’re just in time.”

Tech’s pulse quickened, his legs feeling a little more wobbly than usual as he drew closer. He nodded, though the response felt inadequate, and the sound of his boots hitting the dock again was all that broke the silence between them.

Marina smiled again, this time more softly, before slipping back inside the boat with a quiet rustle of fabric. The door clicked gently behind her, and Tech stood there for a moment longer than necessary, his mind racing with the odd sensation that something had shifted between them in those few seconds. Raising his hands only slightly, he flexed his hand before releasing it as if it would calm his nerves purely through the subconscious act alone.

Tech stepped inside the galley, the lights inside dim, as the boat swayed gently beneath him. He’d expected to find Marina inside, maybe preparing her notes or getting things in order, but as he stepped through the door, he realized she wasn’t there. He frowned briefly, confused, until he heard her voice, light and inviting, calling out from the deck.

“Out here!”

He turned on his heel, setting the torch in his hand on the table while the wooden floor creaked beneath him as he headed toward the back door that led out to the deck. As he stepped outside, the cool night air met him, the wind tugging at his shirt as he squinted into the moonlight, eyes readjusting to the low light.

And then he saw her.

Marina stood near the railing, looking out over the water, the soft glow from the sky casting an ethereal halo around her. The moonlight bathed her in silver, but it wasn’t just the soft illumination of the night that caught his attention—it was her. Her appearance was startling, yet captivating, and for a long moment, Tech stood frozen, unsure how to process what he was seeing.

She wore a flowing skirt that draped loosely around her hips, the fabric cut with slits on both thighs that revealed glimpses of her toned legs as she shifted her weight. The skirt moved with the breeze, and as the fabric fluttered, it drew his eye to the intricate blue tattoos that trailed down her thighs all the way to the tops of her feet, dark lines of color like fluid streaks of ink. 

Her top was not that unlike the kinds of things he’d seen her wear in the past. It was a simple piece, barely covering her chest, leaving the rest of her skin exposed. He was used to her wearing swimwear under wetsuits for diving, and while the shape of this was not far off, the impracticality of no sleeves and just a simple piece of fabric wrapped around her breasts was enticing. The top’s fabric was light and airy, enough to offer coverage but still reveal the smooth expanse of her arms, shoulders, and midriff. 

A gold chain wrapped around her waist, resting just above the waistband of her skirt, its delicate links glinting in the low light. Beneath the chain, Tech’s gaze lingered on the metal along her naval—a small, subtle piercing he hadn’t recalled noticing before, but one that seemed to add to the overall softness of her appearance. 

Her hair, usually tied back neatly when they worked together, was loose tonight, the dark strands swaying lightly in the wind as the few white pieces reflected the moonlight. It framed her face beautifully, soft waves cascading down her shoulders. As he looked longer he noticed the addition of smaller plaits, wrapped in thread or ornamented with more gold cuffs or beads. The sight was so striking that for a moment, Tech’s thoughts scattered, unable to form anything coherent. The combination of her exposed skin, the delicate jewelry, and the raw elegance of her posture was overwhelming.

His breath caught in his chest.

Marina turned slightly, her eyes catching him as she noticed him standing there, frozen in place. Her lips curled into a subtle smile, one that seemed almost playful but also knowing, as if she’d caught him off guard.

“You coming, or are you going to stand there all night?” she teased, her voice light but with an edge of curiosity.

Tech blinked, his gaze shifting away from her exposed skin, though it was almost impossible to look away. His heart raced again, but this time it wasn’t from the excitement of the evening’s research. No, it was something else entirely—something deep in his chest that he had a sinking suspicion he may finally know how to name.

He opened his mouth to speak, but the words were stuck. His brain was sluggish, processing too many things at once. The sound of his boots moving along the deck was the only thing that filled the silence.

As he joined her by the railing, he couldn’t help but steal another glance at her, his mind still reeling. She was breathtaking, but it was more than that. There was a rawness in her beauty tonight, something that made her feel more real, more present than ever before. Sure, he had acknowledged she was objectively attractive, but now that seemed arbitrary. This was a type of transcendent glow he couldn’t quite placate. One that existed simply from one’s own natural beauty and not the artifice of cosmetics but instead existed in sunkissed skin and salt waved hair. 

Marina glanced at him, the faintest glimmer of amusement in her eyes. “Are you feeling alright?” she asked, her tone still light, but there was an understanding in the way she looked at him, like she could see right through his awkwardness.

Tech cleared his throat, his hands instinctively moving to adjust the sleeves of his shirt, though there was no need. So his fingers worked their way down to the friendship bracelet woven by Omega along his wrist, fiddling with the frayed strands that hung loose. He swallowed hard, finally managing to say, “You—uh, you look incredible.” His voice came out quieter than usual, and he wasn’t sure if it was the way her appearance had stunned him or if it was something else entirely, but his words felt like they barely scratched the surface of what he really meant.

Marina’s smile deepened, and her eyes softened, almost as if she could hear the unspoken things in his voice, the things he wasn’t saying aloud. She stepped a little closer, the gentle sway of the boat bringing them even nearer to each other.

“Thank you,” she said simply, though her smile held an unmistakable warmth that sent a ripple through Tech’s chest. 

Tech shifted his weight, feeling an awkward tension settle in his chest as he glanced at Marina once more. His eyes, despite his best efforts, betrayed his thoughts, lingering on her for just a second longer than necessary. He cleared his throat once more, trying to divert his focus. "Not that your appearance isn’t appreciated," he started, his words falling a little flat, but he pushed through the discomfort, "but I thought we were going to study the mōlī fish migration tonight. This does not exactly seem suitable for scientific research." He gave her another quick glance, hoping she wouldn’t catch on to the hesitation in his gaze, but he couldn’t help himself. The way the soft moonlight reflected off her exposed skin, the way the gentle sway of the boat seemed to amplify her presence—it was all too much to ignore.

Marina looked at him, the faintest hint of amusement flickering in her eyes, but she didn’t respond right away. Instead, she shifted her gaze downward, fiddling with her hands as if she were suddenly unsure of something, the usual confidence in her posture faltering for just a moment.

She took a slow breath and then glanced back up at him, her expression softening slightly. “I don’t recall saying we were going to study them,” she replied, her voice light but tinged with an edge of playfulness. “I only asked if you would join me in witnessing their rare resurfacing. There is a difference, you know.” Her lips curved into a small, almost apologetic smile, but the shift in her demeanor made it clear that there was something more to her words. Not only that, but that his comment was dulling the odd behavior to which she’d displayed since his arrival. 

Tech blinked, momentarily caught off guard. He had assumed she’d planned to document the event, the way she had so carefully detailed the scientific significance of the mōlī fish migration in the reports she’d given him. But now that she mentioned it, she hadn’t actually said anything about studying them. The realization took him a moment, and he found himself searching her face, trying to read between the lines of her playful tone and the uncertainty that now lingered in her hands.

“So this is not strictly a scientific observation?” Tech asked, his voice quieter than intended, a slight confusion lacing his words as he tried to wrap his head around what she was implying. Her statement seemed to suggest something far more personal—something more intimate—and yet, he couldn't bring himself to vocalize it outright. Instead, his mind raced, wondering if there was more to this night than he had initially understood.

Marina seemed to sense his hesitation, the way he was trying to make sense of everything, and she finally met his gaze. “It’s a chance to witness something rare, Tech,” she said softly. “And I thought it might be more meaningful to share it with someone who... well, who might appreciate it in their own way.” Her words trailed off, leaving an openness that hung in the air between them, and Tech felt his chest tighten, unsure of how to respond.

For a moment, the night seemed to hold its breath, the sounds of the water below and the rustling of the breeze the only thing filling the space between them. He looked down, unsure of what he should say next, his mind still caught on the subtle shift in the tone of their conversation. “I—well, I do appreciate it,” he said, the words feeling inadequate even as he spoke them. “I just didn’t realize it was... that sort of experience."

Marina watched him for a moment, a thoughtful look crossing her face. She took a small step closer, her voice lighter, though still laced with a quiet concern. “Tech,” she began, her gaze softening, “if you no longer want to stay... if this wasn’t what you expected... It's okay. I understand if this isn’t the kind of experience you had in mind.”

Her words hung in the air between them, the gentle sway of the boat adding a quiet rhythm to the moment. Tech’s heart skipped, and he immediately felt the weight of her question pressing down on him. The idea of backing out now—of saying that he didn’t want to be here, with her, after everything—felt wrong. His mind scrambled for a response, but his thoughts collided in a haze of uncertainty.

“No, no—” Tech quickly interjected, his voice coming out more rushed and loud than he intended. He swallowed hard, trying to steady himself. “I want to stay. I just misunderstood, that’s all.”

He paused, his words hanging in the air between them, and he watched her carefully, as if searching for some clue that would help him make sense of this situation. Was she angry? Had he said the wrong thing?

“I still do not fully understand,” he continued, his voice quieter now, almost hesitant. "What I mean is, I do not understand why something like this—this event—seems to be affecting your behavior. Not in a bad way, of course, I just—" He cut himself off, realizing he was rambling. He wasn’t good at putting his thoughts into words, especially when they were clouded with feelings he didn’t yet fully comprehend.

He looked down at the water, trying to collect himself, the stillness of the ocean beneath them somehow helping to calm his scattered thoughts. The breeze tugged at his sleeves, and for a brief moment, he felt like he could collect his bearings and make sense of it all. “I look forward to uncovering the reason,” he added, his voice more measured now. “If you’re willing to explain it to me, that is.”

It felt like he was asking more than just for an explanation. He wanted to understand her, to understand why this moment—this rare event—was affecting her so deeply. There was more going on here than just the mōlī fish. And, whether or not she admitted it, it seemed tied to something more personal, even if that something wasn’t a detail she was ready to reveal. He was still unclear if it was something from her life directly or if it involved him somehow. 

“I suppose I am acting abnormal to the baseline you’ve come to recognize,” Marina admits, her words trailing off as she pauses. There’s a quiet shift in her demeanor, a subtle vulnerability that Tech can’t quite place. He doesn’t press her, though—he simply watches, his gaze flicking to her from the corner of his eye, noticing the way she draws in a steadying breath.

Then, to his surprise, she reaches out and grabs his forearm. The unexpected contact startles him, and he tenses for a moment before forcing himself to relax. His heart thuds loudly in his chest, but he doesn’t pull away. She seems to sense his hesitation and, after a brief pause, she tugs him gently away from the railing.

“Come on,” she says, her voice soft but resolute. He follows her wordlessly, curious as she leads him to the front of the boat. There, she lowers herself gracefully onto the deck, dipping her feet into the water with a practiced ease as she settles in.

Tech hesitates for a moment, watching her, noticing the subtle tension in her shoulders and the way her movements seem more purposeful than usual. He sits next to her, his boots coming off quickly, socks discarded as he rolls his pant legs up. He mimics her posture, dipping his feet into the slightly chilled water, feeling the coolness of the sea seep into his skin. He hears Marina sigh beside him, the sound soft and heavy with something he can't quite name. Her leg bounces up and down on the lower dock, his eyes tracing the exposed skin momentarily as it moves before they settle on the way she’s weaving her fingers in and out of each other. It’s then Tech realizes she’s perhaps nervous. 

For a long moment, neither of them speaks. The night air hums with a quiet energy, and Tech is keenly aware of the silence that lingers between them, a silence filled with more than just the sound of the waves.

Finally, Marina’s voice breaks the silence, hesitant, as if her words have been waiting to be said for years. “Twenty-eight years ago, my mom went into labor,” she starts, her voice steady but heavy with something unspoken. This is the tone he is used to from her, and not the one she had been adopting the evening thus far. “My father wanted her to seek medical assistance, but she refused. She said the Pabu natives had been giving birth by the sea for generations, and she would uphold that tradition. I was born just as the mōlī fish came up to the surface.”

She pauses, her eyes unfocused as if she’s seeing something far away. Tech stays quiet, letting her find her rhythm. He pictures the scene she’s describing—her mother, the glowing mōlī fish rising from the water, and the life-and-death balance of the moment. Regardless of his own less than organic conception and birth, he still held much regard for the process that natural born people experienced. 

“My father told me,” she continues, her voice quieter now, “that my mom was so happy to see me there, hovering above the water, glowing. And for a moment everything was perfect. In the end she didn’t make it. But she got to experience joy there in the end.”

The words hang between them, heavy and raw. Tech feels a tightness in his chest, the weight of her grief lingering in her tone. He’s not sure how to respond—how to offer comfort without crossing some line. So, he stays silent, simply listening, watching her closely as she opens up, trying to hold on to every word she’s offering as his fingers drum along his leg.

Marina exhales softly, as if the telling of it has exhausted her in ways she hadn’t anticipated. Her gaze flickers to him, just for a moment, searching his face as if to gauge his reaction. But she doesn’t wait for him to speak—she continues.

“Despite my more scientific mind,” she says, her voice thick with emotion, “I admit to behaving oddly when I witness this event. There is a joy to it. I understand sorrow as it commemorates the passing of my mother would be more appropriate but the grief I feel for her is less in losing someone and more in losing out on the opportunity to know someone so vital to who I am.” She pauses and Tech considers her words. He knew the feeling. Quite well. He - like other clones - were a product of Jango Fett but there was a disconnect from the man that existed. He did not know him, but he was him, at least genetically speaking. That left an odd hole in his existence few could articulate.  

“I wish I had a better descriptor and believe me I certainly have tried to rationalize one. It’s not just the fish, it’s not just the science of it. Seeing this makes me feel connected to my mother. A woman I never knew. This migration... it’s a part of me, in many ways. I understand it is likely just a coincidence in timing, and there is no real reason to put such emphasis on the movement of aquatic life.”

Her words linger in the air, heavy with the weight of everything she’s shared. Tech feels his heart pounding in his chest, his mind struggling to find something to say that could capture the depth of what he’s just heard. For a moment, he simply watches her, taking in the way the water reflects in her eyes. From his position he can only see the lighter of the two. It’s as though the entire night has shifted, the scientific curiosity he’d arrived with now feeling small in the face of Marina’s story. He has no words that feel sufficient to meet the moment, but somehow, he knows that what she’s shared has opened a door to something much more meaningful between them.

Tech swallows, his voice soft yet sincere. “I did not realize. I didn’t understand how much this truly meant to you.” He pauses, collecting his thoughts before adding, “There are times when behavior might seem illogical, but that doesn’t make it any less valid.” His mind drifts back to earlier, when he had almost scolded himself for the extra, seemingly unnecessary effort he’d put into his appearance, and he hopes she’ll understand that he’s acknowledging something important. That sometimes, acting against reason doesn’t make the experience any less real or worthwhile. He, too, occasionally finds himself in that space, where actions defy explanation, and it’s not a bad thing.

Marina doesn’t respond immediately. Instead, she turns her gaze toward the water, watching the gentle ripples.  The air between them is filled with a quiet understanding, a connection that feels deeper than anything Tech has ever experienced. He doesn’t know how to make sense of everything he’s feeling at this moment, but he knows one thing for sure: he’s grateful she’s shared it with him. Grateful, she trusts him enough to allow him to see this side of her—the one that’s more than just the scientist, the one who carries the weight of her past with grace and quiet strength.

“I apologize for not saying anything earlier. Or if my unnatural behavior is off putting to you in any regard” she admits, her gaze still drawn to the water, though her voice grows just a little more vulnerable. “But... I’m glad you’re here. I was not quite sure why I invited you, but now that you’re here, it feels... right.”

Tech listens intently, his eyes never leaving her face, the quiet moonlight catching the curve of her features. His chest tightens in a way he can't quite place, and for a fleeting moment, it feels like everything else falls away. The gentle sway of the boat, the soft ripples in the water—they all fade into the background, and it’s just the two of them, sharing something unspoken.

She glances over at him then, her expression open, her gaze steady. The depth of her words sits heavily between them, and he feels a strange, pressing need to somehow ease it—to say something that conveys just how much it means that she’s trusting him with this. That he understands that sometimes behavior may be irrational and that is okay. That she shouldn’t feel the need to dull herself for his sake. That she’s making him feel a comfort and acceptance he’s never felt before. But even as he searches for the right words, something else presses on him, a pull that he can’t ignore.

He finds his hand reaching out instinctively, brushing lightly against her arm at first, just enough to confirm she’s still here, still with him. There’s a flash of heat at the contact, one that catches him off guard, but he doesn’t pull away. Instead, he lets his hand slip around her shoulder. His palm flattened around the skin, drawing her closer, the movement slightly awkward yet almost urgent. It’s not entirely deliberate, not like he’s thought this through, but something in him just... needs to be close to her.

Marina doesn’t pull away, her breath catching for the briefest moment, but she leans into his touch, just slightly, her warmth against him undeniable. The sensation spreads through him, and for the first time tonight, Tech feels that curiosity that’s been plaguing him slips his mind, so that he can focus on the here and the now.

She doesn’t seem to mind the closeness, and yet her eyes stay focused on the water. But the air around them feels different now, charged. He wonders if she can feel it, too—the way their proximity seems to spark something between them that perhaps started friendly and is now shifting into a place he hadn’t considered.

His voice comes out quieter than usual, the words soft and hesitant, as if he’s afraid to break the moment, afraid that acknowledging what’s happening might somehow make it disappear.

“I’m honored that you trusted me with your story,” he says, his voice huskier than he intends. “I didn’t expect to be part of something so... meaningful to you tonight. Also although I admit your behavior is unexpected I assure you it it is not off putting,”

For a moment, the only sounds are the gentle lapping of the water and the soft rhythm of their breathing, but the silence isn’t comfortable. It’s thick with something unspoken, something lingering between them—something neither seems ready to name.

“Sorry if I overwhelmed you when you were expecting research,” she says, her brow furrowing with concern, as if suddenly realizing the weight of what she’s done.

“Nonsense,” he replies, his words warm, almost soothing. “Whatever’s happening right now is far more important than anything I imagined for this evening. I—” He pauses, watching the way her gaze traces his face before he continues. “I’m glad I came.”

Marina’s smile deepens, soft and tender, a quiet affection blooming in the curve of her lips. She shifts slightly, turning her body more toward him. The opposite shoulder to the one he is holding nestles against his outstretched arm, resting against his bicep. The subtle movement brings her even closer, her side brushing against his, her warmth seeping into him like a fireplace on a cold night.

“I’m glad I get to share this with you,” she whispers, her voice barely a breath, as if the words hold the power to change something between them. Her hands reach up, settling carefully on his shoulders, hesitant, testing his reaction. When he doesn’t pull away, she lifts them higher, the soft contact sending a shiver through him.

Tech feels the delicate pressure of her fingers against the sides of his goggles, her touch tender as she gently slides them off, resting them on his forehead.

The air between them thickens, heavy with all the things neither of them dares to say. His breath catches in his throat as he watches her, unable to look away. The world around them seems to hold its breath, charged with a palpable tension—an unspoken electricity in the space between them. And yet, all he can do is sit there, inches from her, caught in the stillness, the moments stretching, building into something far more than either of them can voice.

Something in him shifts again—an unfamiliar desire to be even closer, to bridge that last small gap between them. He doesn’t know if it’s the way her gaze flickers to his lips, or the warmth in her voice that makes his chest tighten in a way he’s not used to, but before he even knows what’s happening, he moves—slowly, deliberately—his one hand still resting on her shoulder, but now his other hand drifts slightly, brushing against her back. The contact is light, tentative, but the way she leans into it just enough makes his heart race in a way he didn’t expect.

Marina's breath catches as Tech's fingers trace the curve of her back, sending a spark through her skin that seems to resonate with the beat of her heart. The world around them feels still, like a held breath, and for a moment, everything else fades into the background. It's just the two of them, the tension between them thick and palpable, like an unspoken promise hanging in the air.

Tech’s gaze flickers down to her lips, and the space between them becomes so small, so charged with possibility that he can feel it in his chest, in his fingertips. There’s an electric pull, something magnetic drawing him closer, and he leans in slightly, just on the cusp of closing the distance between them. 

Marina’s eyes are locked on him, her pupils dilated, her breath steady but quick. She’s not pulling away. She’s not hesitating either. And that simple truth makes everything feel even more real—more intense. He wants to kiss her. He knows it, and it feels right, and the moment is stretching in a way that makes time slow to a crawl.

But then, just as their faces draw even closer, just as Tech can almost feel the warmth of her lips against his, she gasps, her eyes snapping toward the water with an excitement that almost knocks the air out of his lungs. “Look!” Her voice rises with a mixture of joy and wonder, pointing urgently at the water. Her fingers tremble with excitement as she points toward the glowing light in the distance, the mōlī fish rising to the surface. The air shifts instantly, the moment between them slipping away like sand through his fingers.

Tech follows her gaze, heart still racing, but now the quiet, intimate connection feels like it’s been severed. His eyes take in the mesmerizing sight of the fish, their glowing bodies casting a soft, ethereal light just under the water’s surface, a breathtaking natural phenomenon that he would never have expected to be so enchanting.

Marina’s face lights up, the wonder in her eyes infectious as she watches the fish dance in the water. Her excitement is so pure, so unrestrained, that it fills the space between them, pulling him into the moment with her.

Tech glances at her, his chest tightening at the sight of her so animated, so alive with joy. Despite the moment slipping away, despite the rush of disappointment that’s flooding through him, he can’t help but feel a heat spread through his body. She’s so present, so open, and even as the tension between them eases, something else starts to settle in its place—a deeper respect for her in this moment.

As she springs to her feet, a smile as bright as the sun spreading across her face, Tech instinctively pushes himself up to join her. Her excitement is palpable, her eyes shining with awe as more of the glowing mōlī fish begin to surface, gracefully swimming closer to the boat. For a fleeting moment, Tech is completely absorbed in the wonder around them, the sheer beauty of the sight washing over him, making him forget the tension that had nearly clouded the evening. But just as he feels he’s taken in the full splendor of the scene, his gaze shifts, and he catches sight of Marina again.

He’d grown so used to her normal behavior. Marina was calm. She was an overcast sky in the early morning. Still. Subdued. Only occasionally allowing subtle humor to break past her otherwise stoic nature. Her excitement was rare to witness and often came in the form of soft exhales through her nose. She was not robotic per say, but she aligned more with his own behavior. This explosion of emotions was far cry from the woman he had come to recognize.

She’s standing next to him, her eyes wide with pure amazement, her body practically vibrating with excitement. Then, without warning, she twirls on her toes, her arms flung out as if the rush of joy is too much to contain within the confines of her frame. Hands shaking and arms moving up and down like a bird preparing for flight. The movement, albeit a bit unnatural, somehow radiates with him. The sight of her, so unabashedly filled with childlike wonder, almost causes him to lose his balance and tumble into the water, a soft laugh bubbling up in his chest. The fish, radiant in their bioluminescent glow, are undoubtedly breathtaking, but the image of Marina, watching them with such unfiltered reverence, is far more captivating to him given how much it diverges from how she behaves normally.

Tech’s thoughts drifted back to his cadet days, remembering how, in moments of pure elation—whether from a new discovery or a successful training exercise—he would often burst with an energy he couldn’t quite contain. His body would betray him in those moments, trembling with excitement, his hands fidgeting or his feet tapping without his consent. It was natural then, but as he grew older, he began to realize that such outbursts weren’t typical. He wasn’t very old when the awareness started to creep in, and it became undeniable when Crosshair, ever the sharp observer, coined the word ‘odd’ to describe it. He’d mockingly called him "Porg," a nickname that reduced his genuine expression of joy to something silly, something to laugh at. But to Tech, it wasn’t funny. The playful teasing only made him retreat further into himself, and he learned to suppress those exuberant displays of emotion. His joy became something quieter, less noticeable—just the subtle tapping of his leg or the rhythmic rubbing of his hand along his pant leg. Or adjusting his goggles on his face.

Now, watching Marina, he was reminded of how he used to be, before the Kaminoans, the regs, and even his own brothers pointed out the “oddities” in his behavior. There, in Marina’s uninhibited excitement, he saw a reflection of the boy he had been—a boy unashamed of his physical reactions to joy. And for a fleeting moment, he wondered if he’d been too harsh on himself, too quick to stifle what felt so natural. The way Marina let herself be fully absorbed in the present, unrestrained by the world’s expectations, made him question whether perhaps it wasn’t such a bad thing after all. To be so overwhelmed with joy that it couldn’t be contained, that it spilled out in visible, almost childlike expressions—it wasn’t something to hide. It was, in its own way, a beautiful form of unbridled freedom in the stimulation.

Despite the magnetic pull of Marina’s enthusiasm, Tech knows he would never forgive himself if he didn’t fully appreciate the mōlī migration. With a reluctant sigh, he tears his eyes away from her, pulling his goggles back down over his eyes, ready to dive into the scientific beauty of the moment. The fish’s movement is hypnotic, their delicate, fluid motions like the flicker of flames. The glow they emit is far brighter than he expected, not the soft glow he imagined, but a radiant blaze, as if the creatures themselves are stars come to life beneath the water.

The faint rustling of fabric reaches his ears, and he assumes it’s Marina shifting to get a better view. But then a sudden splash disrupts his focus, pulling his attention back toward her.

Tech’s eyes widen, and his breath catches in his throat as he processes what’s happened. Marina—who was just beside him moments ago, fully clothed—is now in the water. Most of her clothes are gone, replaced by the shimmering glow of the fish, as she giggles and splashes, completely uninhibited. The water around her glows with the same bioluminescence, the fish swirling around her in a dance of light. Though the rippling waves distort her form, the sight is almost painfully beautiful, the contrast of her laughter against the ethereal glow of the sea creating a surreal, intoxicating image.

Tech’s mind races, struggling to process the scene in front of him, but no matter how he tries to focus on the migration, his eyes can’t help but be drawn back to Marina, glowing in the water, a part of the wonder that surrounds them.

His mind struggles to find a foothold, every logical thought slipping away as his gaze lingers on Marina, her laughter echoing softly through the night air. The glow of the mōlī fish reflects off her skin, casting an otherworldly light over her, as if she’s become part of the sea itself. He watches as she lets herself be swept up in the magic of the moment, her movements light and carefree, as if the ocean had swallowed up any trace of the world beyond. The sight is so intimate, so unguarded, that it feels like something he shouldn’t be witnessing.

He takes a step closer to the edge of the boat, unable to tear his eyes away from her as she floats in the water, the gentle waves caressing her. The water around her ripples with a thousand tiny points of light, the fish weaving in and out of her, creating patterns in the depths.

“Marina…” he whispers, almost to himself, but his voice is drowned out by the splash of water as she dives beneath the surface, her form momentarily disappearing into the glowing abyss. The stillness that settles around them feels as though it could stretch on for eternity. Watching her, Tech is overwhelmed by a rush of emotions and memories, each one flooding his mind in quick succession. He is reminded, in a way that feels almost profound, how much he has come to appreciate her presence in his life. The camaraderie they share has only deepened over time, becoming something more than just companionship—something rich, layered, and almost essential. He’s grateful for the way she brings to light forgotten parts of himself, things he had long buried or suppressed.

In this moment, Tech realizes just how much he’s grown to cherish her, even the simple fact that she helps him reconnect with things he hadn’t known he missed. He smiles inwardly at the thought of how he had once been haunted by Crosshair’s teasing of his behavior—those sharp remarks that had driven him to push down his true self. But now, he finds himself longing for a time when he could be so open with his feelings, when such things weren’t a source of shame. And then, there’s the kiss—the one they almost shared just moments ago. The tension lingers, unfinished, a whisper of something deeper, something that still hums beneath the surface.

Then, she emerges again, her hair shimmering with water drops, her eyes sparkling as she surfaces and looks up at him. There’s something in the way she gazes at him, like she’s silently inviting him into her world, the one she so freely shares with the ocean. The one where their minds, behavior and drive are so aligned it is nearly frightening at the implication. She reaches out her hand, her fingers glowing faintly in the light below, and for a moment, Tech feels his heartbeat quicken.

Without thinking, he reaches toward her, his own fingers trembling slightly as he brushes against hers. Marina doesn’t pull away. Instead, she holds his hand, her grip light but firm, as she uses the other to tread water near where he is still on the lower dock. She tugs him gently, her voice soft but urgent. “You should come in,” she says, her words breathy but filled with intent. “It’s like nothing you’ve ever seen before.”

He stands torn, caught between the magnetic pull of the moment and the cautious voice in his mind, still echoing with warnings of what could go wrong. A part of him longs to remain on the sidelines, safely observing her joy from a distance, savoring the comfort of his own space. Furthermore this is something important to her, he hardly wishes to intrude. 

Perhaps it’s the lingering sting of the recent separation, the doubts it has left in its wake. Leena had always asked him to be more spontaneous, to embrace the unpredictability of life, but Tech had never been able to force himself to step into that kind of freedom. The mental block that surrounded the idea of spontaneity made it seem impossible—an unscalable wall. It wasn’t until now, watching Marina in her uninhibited joy, that he began to understand why. He had always thought of himself as adaptable, able to adjust to any situation, yet the idea of exposing himself, of allowing his emotions to spill out freely like Marina did, terrified him. It wasn’t just about the fear of rejection, but the deeper vulnerability that came with it. Even around the people he cared most about—his brothers, who had seen him at his most guarded—it had never felt safe enough to be this open, this raw. Not since he was younger anyway.

But now, in the quiet realization born from watching her, he understood something fundamental. Marina wasn’t afraid to be herself in these rare moments, to express her emotions without hesitation, and in that, she mirrored him in ways few could. The way he was wired—his need for order, his logical approach to everything—could be celebrated, not hidden away. Yet, on the flip side that he could be a logical person who did on occasion experience the illogical. There was no shame in being different, in feeling things deeply and allowing those feelings to show physically. The quietness of his own emotional expression had always felt like a burden, but watching her now, free in her own display of joy, he realized it was a strength—a part of himself that could be embraced because she was so alike him in all his other moments.

Perhaps it’s also the unexpected depth of his own growth—growth that had crept up on him quietly, unnoticed, until he found himself living it in real time. The ease with which he now shared his thoughts, the vulnerability that had once felt foreign to him, felt like a revelation. It was the kind of openness he had never thought himself capable of, and yet here he was, offering it to a new friend with a comfort he hadn’t anticipated. Maybe it’s simply the way Marina—this fiercely honest, no-nonsense marine biologist—had just giggled, her laughter spilling out in a raw, unguarded way that felt as though it could never be contained. The sound was unpolished, loud, awkward even, yet there was a purity to it that resonated deeply within him. For the first time, he understood what it meant to let go completely, to embrace joy in its most unrefined form.

But as he watches her there, bathed in the soft glow of the bioluminescent fish, surrounded by the starlit sky, something inside him shifts. In that moment, a realization settles deep within him: he doesn’t want to just observe anymore. He doesn’t want to remain on the sidelines of his own life. He wants to be part of it. He wants to feel this—the uncontained excitement—just as she does. He yearns to be someone who is steady and structured, yes, but also someone who isn’t afraid to let his emotions rise to the surface without hesitation. Not because it’s expected of him, but because, for the first time in a long time, he understands that it’s the person he wants to be. The person he is becoming.

Watching Marina now, he feels a bridge forming to the boy he had once been on Kamino, the one who could laugh freely and celebrate his small victories without fear or shame. That boy, once buried beneath years of self-restraint and calculated detachment, stirs within him. For the first time in years, Tech feels a connection to that part of himself he thought was long gone.

Tech realizes, with quiet clarity, that he has grown tired of allowing his need for structure and control to keep him from fully engaging with the world. He had never fully processed the association of the fear of rejection with his inability to express joy, especially with Leena. When she had pointed out his emotional reserve, his reluctance to embrace spontaneity, he had convinced himself it wasn’t about her—about meeting her needs—but about the deeper, more internal fear that had plagued him for so long. The fear of making himself too large, too visible, too vulnerable. The fear that if he let himself go, even for a moment, he might damage the relationships he cherished.

It was an illogical fear, he knew that now. He understood that Leena, with her kind heart, would have accepted him for who he was, no matter how restrained or intense his emotions were. But understanding and acceptance, he realized, were two very different things. Leena’s kindness had never been in question, but he wasn’t sure she could ever truly understand him—not in the way he needed her to. And that, he knew, wasn’t a failing on her part. Few, if any, could understand him in that way. The diversion from his ‘normal’ behavior as a child had always felt harsh. But as for his relationship to Leena in that regard, he was to blame, for never giving her—or anyone—the chance to see him for all that he was in his adult life. He’d been too prideful and too guarded.

The difference now, however, is that Marina’s natural alignment with his usual subdued nature, combined with this brief but undeniable indulgence in behavior outside of the norm, offers a sense of security that he’s been searching for. It makes the idea of finding equilibrium feel less elusive, as though it’s finally within his reach. The overwhelming effect feels freeing. Like a mask falling away almost.

Without another word, Tech begins to pull off his clothes. His movements are swift, almost instinctive, the need to be in the water—closer to her—growing more urgent with every passing second. He sheds his shirt, his pants, until he's left only in his undergarments. The cold air rushes against his bare skin, and for a moment, he hesitates, but Marina's eyes never leave him. There's no judgment in her gaze, only quiet encouragement, like she’s waiting for him to take this leap. 

In the final moment, he hesitates before removing his goggles. Part of him wants to keep them on, to let the ever-present recording device capture this moment for eternity. But something within him holds him back. He wants to remember this moment—not as footage, but as a memory. It feels too significant to store anywhere other than his own mind. With that thought, he takes them off, switches off the device, and sets the goggles gently down on the deck. 

He steps toward the edge of the boat, his heart racing in his chest, and then, with no more hesitation, he jumps.

The water greets him like an old friend—cool, enveloping, and vast. As he plunges beneath the surface, the world above him vanishes, swallowed by the deep. The water rushes over his head, and for the briefest moment, the world goes still. It’s as if everything that had weighed him down—the doubts, the fears, the things he couldn’t control—suddenly disappears, dissolved in the embrace of the ocean. It’s a release, a cleansing he hadn’t known he needed, as though the water was washing away all that had kept him bound to the edges of himself. 

Tech spent much of his early life on Kaminon, gazing down at the vast, murky depths of the ocean that surrounded the facilities. The cold, isolating waters seemed to stretch endlessly, a constant reminder of the distance between himself and the world beyond. Life there was quiet, distant, and impersonal. But Pabu... Pabu was unlike anything he had ever experienced. It was a place of warmth, a stark contrast to the chill of Kaminon’s waters. The island felt like an embrace, welcoming him with its vibrant energy—pure, unspoiled paradise. However, this side of Pabu, where science intertwined with something deeper, something far more personal, was beginning to leave a profound impression on him. Every passing moment only deepened the impact, and Tech couldn’t help but feel the pull of something greater taking root inside him.

For a long breathless moment, he’s suspended in the glow of the bioluminescence, his body weightless and free, surrounded by the quiet hum of the sea. The light from the fish swirls around him, lighting up the dark water like scattered stars in the night sky, and it feels like the world has opened up in a way he never expected. 

When he resurfaces, gasping for air, the sound of Marina’s laugh is a gentle echo, filling the space between them with something light to break the tension. Her eyes are wide with wonder, watching him with that same unguarded joy. For a moment, neither of them speaks, the silence between them thick with the shared understanding that nothing needs to be said. They’re here, together, and that’s all that matters.

He swims up beside her now, the water rushing over his skin in waves, feeling as if he’s shedding old versions of himself with each stroke. His chest rises and falls with each breath, the fresh air tasting sweeter somehow. He looks at Marina, her face illuminated by the glow of the fish, and a thought flits through his mind: This is what living is supposed to feel like.

Tech had always been starkly aware of the artifice that surrounded his existence. He was a clone, modified in an impersonal lab and a product of science. Natural borns always seemed to contain a distance from him - they were born usually of a loving dynamic. They were blessed with the ability to age naturally. And although his friend had found a way to slow the effects of the aging process, it felt daunting to be granted a normal life. The weight of his past—of the mistakes, the distance he himself constructed, the doubts he held about himself—seems small now, insignificant in the face of this. The only thing that matters is the water, the stars, and the woman beside him, so effortlessly radiant in her joy. 

Tech’s heart pounds in his chest, the pulse a constant thrum that resonates deep within him. The water is cold, the stars overhead seem distant and infinite, but it's Marina's presence that’s pulling him in, urging him to move closer, to close the space between them. It's not just about the warmth of her body, or the desire to be near her. It’s the need to feel something, anything, that’s real. The weightlessness of the water, the energy crackling between them, it’s too much to ignore, too much to just let hang there, especially when inside his mind is screaming ‘thank you’ over and over again for making him feel more seen than he ever has in his life.

He reaches out, his hand brushing against her arm. His fingertips feel a spark, like the air between them is charged, and the contact sends a rush of heat through him. He’s never felt this kind of urge before—this desperation to just be closer, to press into her, to feel her, to know she’s there, anchored and alive next to him. It’s as though he’s been starved of physical connection for so long, and now, with her so near, it’s like every inch of his body is screaming for it.

“Marina,” he says, his voice tight, rough with the need that’s building inside him. “I—” He swallows, the words tangled in his throat, unsure how to articulate this raw, overwhelming feeling. But he knows one thing: the space between them just became charged with a need for something physical. His chest aches with the craving to be closer, to feel her warmth, the reality of her proximity like a release of something that’s been buried deep in him for too long.

Marina looks at him, her gaze steady, and for a moment, it’s as if she’s waiting for him to make the first move. Without thinking, he closes the distance between them, his hand finding her arm, his fingers wrapping around her like he's trying to ground himself. He feels the slight shiver of her skin under his touch, and it only makes the urgency build. He can’t pull back, can’t stop himself.

Marina’s hand lands on his chest, just above his heart, and the simple touch sends a tremor through him. The sensation reverberates through his entire body, and it's almost overwhelming, how much he needs to feel her, how much he needs something real in the midst of the quiet chaos swirling inside him. He leans in, his movements sharp, as if he can’t help himself, like the pull to her is magnetic, primal.

His hand moves to the back of her neck, fingers digging lightly into her skin, and it’s all he can do not to pull her entirely into him. He needs the contact, needs to close the gap, to feel the solidity of her presence in a way that settles the wildness inside him. The space between them has become unbearable, a tension he can’t release, and as he presses closer, her body beneath his fingers feels like the only thing that can ground him.

They don’t speak, not yet. The air is thick with the weight of what’s unacknowledged, but neither of them moves away. Instead, Tech closes his eyes for a brief moment, just to feel her—her warmth, her breath, the way her body shifts against his, anchoring him to this shared experience. And in that moment, with the rush of water surrounding them, with the glow of bioluminescence swirling around them like stars, he realizes that he’s no longer just existing. He’s alive, and this need, this undeniable pull, has nothing to do with the past or the future. It’s just the here, the now, and the quiet hum of the connection between them.

The only thing he knows is that he needs this physiciality—her—and for once, he's not afraid to reach for it.

Despite the challenge of maintaining his balance while treading water, Tech's focus sharpens as his hand slides down to her lower back, his fingers pressing into the warmth of her skin. With a surge of passion, he pulls her toward him with a strength, crashing his lips onto hers. In that instant, as though overcome by a wave of pure euphoria, she mirrors his intensity, returning the embrace with equal fervor. The world around them blurs, their connection crackling in the water like an electric charge, each kiss more desperate, more consuming than the last.

Tech can feel Marina’s fingers carding through the hair on the back of his head, her nails scratching through to his scalp. The feeling makes him groan at how electrifying the stimulus is. In return his grip on her back grows more intense, his fingers digging into the toned skin. He can feel her pressed against the entire length of his body. The chain around her waist, the piercing of her navel, and-

He pulls away quickly, mind having caught up with the experiences his body was undergoing. He laughs. Loudly and awkwardly as it feels foreign to do so. His hand shifted from her shoulder to cup one of her breasts, illuminated by the glow around them. “My, this is a fascinating discovery,” he hummed out, enjoying both the weight and size of her breast in his palm, but also the way the small metal through her peaks caught the light. His thumb trails over the stud and the sound of the purr leaving her lips renews that need once more. “Tech…” she whispers, head lulling back as she gives him more room to notice the way dark hair clings to her shoulder or dimples appear in the corner of her cheeks. The thin white scar running across her chin catches his eye as his thumb trails over the line. 

“You are positively exquisite,” he hums out, lips finding her pulse as he continues to let his hands roam. Everything is soft skin, cool lapping water and the beauty of nature around them. But then he hesitates. “Is it alright to keep going? I hadn’t fully anticipated how much emotional weight this could carry for you, especially with your past and your grief. I want to make sure I’m being respectful of that,” he says thoughtfully.

She looks at him for a moment, as if pondering the words. Tech briefly wonders if he has ruined this wonderful experience by asking but just when he goes to once again speak her hands grab him, dragging him beneath the waves as Tech holds his breath. He soon feels her lips pressing against his once more, this time under the waves. Near his feet he can feel the occasional fin of one of the mōlī fish swimming closer to them. That all fades as both his hands cradle her face, attempting to maintain the connection as long as possible with the buoyancy pushing them to the surface. 

His legs tangle with hers, her hair moving around the two of them as he feels the full extent of her soft skin. Marina’s one hand settles on his shoulder as the other lands just above his waist, her chest firmly pressed against his own. Opening his eyes ever so slightly he can only make out the brief shape under the haze of the salt water as it burns his eyes but with the glow of the fish and her body so close he does not care. 

Before long, the need for air catches up with them, pulling them both back to the surface. Tech gasps deeply, filling his lungs, and Marina does the same, her eyes fluttering open once more.

“While I appreciate your concern, I assure you I am no blushing maiden,” she says with a smile. “This may not have been my agenda tonight, but the deviation is certainly pleasant.”

Tech chuckles, a sound that feels lighter than it has in a long time, as he instinctively pulls her waist closer, their bodies still aligned as they tread water in the gentle ebb of the waves. The ocean tonight is unusually calm, soothing in its quiet rhythm, and he finds himself grateful for the stillness.

The moment lingers between them, and for the first time, Tech realizes something he hadn’t before. It hadn’t been until that moment earlier—the fleeting second when he almost leaned in to kiss her—that he understood the desire that had been quietly building inside him. He hadn’t known he wanted to kiss her until that exact moment, but now, the feeling is undeniable, like a spark igniting within him. He hadn’t expected it, hadn’t planned for it, but as he holds her close, the sensation feels natural, almost inevitable. He feels the pull of something deeper than mere camaraderie, something he hadn’t let himself recognize until now.

Crosshair was right. He did figure it out. 

Tech hesitates for a moment, the weight of the moment settling around them. He pulls her a little closer, his voice quieter now, the sincerity clear.

"I really enjoyed that," he admits, his words slipping out before he can stop them. "More than I expected, honestly." He looks down for a moment, then meets her eyes, the hesitation still lingering. "But I want to make sure—did you mind? Was it too much?"

Marina holds his gaze, her expression thoughtful. After a beat, she shakes her head, her voice steady but soft. "No, I didn’t mind. It felt natural. Unexpected, but not unwelcome."

A wave of relief washes over Tech, but then something else rises within him, something he hadn’t anticipated. He shifts slightly, his brow furrowing as he considers her words. "I have to ask," he says quietly, "Is this the first time you’ve done something like this, since Keiron?"

The question hangs between them, sensitive and careful, but it feels right to ask. He doesn't mean to pry, but his concern for her feels more important than his own discomfort.

Marina’s expression changes, a flicker of something he can’t quite place passing through her eyes. She takes a deep breath, her gaze dropping for just a moment before she looks back at him, her voice softer now.

"No," she says slowly. "I’ve maintained a few casual physical relationships since Keiron. Nothing serious, nothing like this." She pauses, her gaze steady, vulnerable in a way Tech hadn’t expected. "What we just shared is certainly more gratifying. It’s more than I thought I was ready for, but at the same time, it feels right."

Tech takes in her words, feeling a warmth spread through him, tempered with an understanding that runs deeper than he anticipated. He nods slowly, meeting her gaze, as if trying to take in everything she’s just shared.

Tech feels a wave of something new course through him, and it’s not just the gentle pull of the ocean around them. The air between them feels different now, the unspoken tension palpable in a way that’s impossible to ignore. He searches her face, looking for some indication of what’s next.

“Marina,” he begins slowly, his voice softer, almost hesitant. “I don’t think we can just pretend that didn’t happen. That moment. The way it felt.”

She meets his gaze, steady but thoughtful, clearly processing the same thing. "No, I don’t think we can," she agrees quietly, her voice clear, but there’s a certain weight to her words. "It’s strange, isn’t it? How quickly things shifted. But it didn’t feel wrong. Not for a second."

Tech lets out a breath, his chest a little tight but he appreciates her honesty. "I don’t know if this is how we expected things to go, but... it felt important. Even if it wasn’t part of some grand, traditional idea of what this is supposed to look like."

Marina nods, her lips curling slightly into a soft, knowing smile. "I’ve never been one for the 'song and dance' of romance," she says with a quiet laugh. "I think we’ve both spent enough time trying to live by everyone else’s expectations." She pauses for a moment, her eyes flicking away to the horizon before returning to him. "But this—what just happened—feels like it should be part of what we’re building. Not in spite of what’s come before, but because of it. We don’t need to complicate things with rules that don’t fit us."

Tech takes in her words, a light dawning in his chest. "So you believe we should alter this arrangement, then? Make it something more physical? Even if it’s undefined, without the typical build-up or structure?"

She shrugs, her expression open. "Why not? You and I are unlike everyone else in many ways. And sometimes the most honest connections are the ones that don’t follow a script." She pauses, then adds, "If that’s what you want,"

Tech feels a sense of relief, mixed with a deep sense of understanding. "I think I do," he says quietly, the words simple but carrying a weight of truth. "I think I’ve been fighting it, mostly because I truly didn’t understand what I was feeling, but this feels like something we should lean into. Even if it’s not how others would expect."

Marina smiles, the tension between them easing as she moves a little closer. "Then let’s stop fighting it," she says, her voice low and assured.

Tech looks at her, his expression serious now, the weight of the conversation settling in. "I agree but," he begins, his voice quiet but firm, "I want you to know... with all of this being so... undefined between us, we’ll have to be honest with each other. No matter what happens."

Marina tilts her head, her gaze never leaving his, as if trying to read the depth of his words. She doesn’t rush to respond, but her eyes soften, a subtle understanding passing between them.

"I mean it," Tech continues, his brow furrowing slightly. "If we’re doing this, whatever that may entail, I need to know we can always talk—no matter how messy or complicated things get. I don’t want to end up misinterpreting something or leaving anything unsaid."

Marina nods slowly, her expression thoughtful but open. "I agree," she says, her voice steady. "I do not intend to play games. If we’re going to do this, we need to be able to be upfront about what we want, what we need even when it’s uncomfortable." she paused for a moment before chuckling and saying, “although you’ve been fairly blunt with me, as I have with you, so I do not perceive it to be a problem,” 

Tech lets out a soft laugh, the tension in his shoulders easing at her words. There’s a small, reassuring comfort in her response, something that makes him feel more certain about the path they’re stepping onto, even without a clear map.

“You’re right,” he agrees, a slight smile tugging at his lips. “Bluntness is definitely something we seem to have in common.” His gaze softens as he looks at her, his voice becoming more earnest.Tech takes a small, measured breath, his mind ticking through the conversation with a careful precision. As much as the moment feels natural, the lack of structure still pulls at him, and his desire to understand everything clearly urges him to address it head-on.

"Marina," he begins, his tone calm but purposeful. "Before we proceed any further, I need to ask. Do you have any preferences when it comes to the physical aspects of a relationship? Boundaries, expectations, or anything that’s important to you?"

Marina’s eyes narrow slightly, as if assessing the seriousness of his question, before giving a small nod. She seems unbothered by the clinical nature of his inquiry, perhaps even appreciating it. "I think it's important to be clear about things," she responds, her voice steady but thoughtful. "I’ve had casual experiences, as I mentioned, but nothing that had a real depth or consistency. Certainly nothing with this level of familiarity. So, I suppose I don’t have any rigid preferences, but I’d want to make sure things are mutual, respectful. I don’t need anything to be forced, and I don’t want it to feel transactional. You know me well enough to recognize that I would likely be honest about liking or disliking certain kinds of physical affection," She pauses, her gaze meeting his with a quiet intensity. "Does that make sense?"

Tech nods slowly, processing her words with his characteristic focus. "Yes," he says, his voice softening slightly. "That makes sense. I don’t want anything to feel rushed or uncomfortable. And I don’t want to make assumptions. If we’re going to move forward, I need to know that we’re both aligned on what we’re comfortable with." He looks at her directly, making sure she knows he’s fully listening, waiting for her response.

She tilts her head slightly, a thoughtful expression crossing her face as she considers his words. "I think the most important thing for me is communication," she replies, her voice steady. "Being open about what we want and making sure we’re both on the same page as we move forward. I’m not expecting this to be a traditional relationship, but if it’s something we want to continue, I need to know we’re being honest about what we need physically."

Tech takes a moment to process her answer, feeling a weight lift off his chest. The clarity of the conversation feels grounding, even if the connection between them is still undefined. "I agree," he responds, his voice more measured. "I don’t want to take any step without being sure we’re both comfortable and genuinely consenting to it."

There’s a brief pause, the air between them feeling calm but charged with the weight of what they’ve just discussed. Finally, Marina nods, a small smile tugging at her lips. "Good. I think that’s a good foundation. We’ll take it one step at a time and speak freely."

Tech meets her gaze, his mind finally easing from its earlier tension. "One step at a time," he agrees, his tone steady but sincere. "And if anything changes, we’ll talk about it."

The simplicity of the arrangement feels like a solid beginning. There are no grand promises, no rush, just the understanding that whatever happens, they’ll navigate it together—honestly, carefully, and with mutual respect.

Before either of them can say more, he finds himself pulling her gently into an embrace, his arms slipping around her waist as the waves continue their steady rhythm around them. The water around them shifts with the movement, a soft swirl of sensation as they float, bodies close but not suffocating.

For a moment, Tech feels the weight of everything—the complexities, the unspoken things—seem to vanish. It’s just them now, this quiet, shared space in the water where they don’t have to explain anything, don’t have to fit any particular mold.

Marina lets out a soft sigh, her hands resting lightly on his shoulders as she leans into him. He feels the warmth of her body through the coolness of the water, the rhythm of their breathing synchronized in a quiet pulse.

“It’s strange,” she murmurs after a beat, her voice almost lost in the hush of the night. “I never thought I’d find someone who... just understands. No expectations. No need for grand gestures. Or even explanations of aspects of who I am.”

Tech exhales slowly, his voice soft but steady. “I didn’t think I would either.” He pulls her in a bit closer, just enough to feel the reassurance of her presence. “But this feels right. This... uncomplicated but comfortable space.”

Her head rests against his, and for a moment, the only sound is the gentle lapping of the water against their bodies. It's a simple connection, but there’s something so deeply profound about it. No words are needed, just the quiet understanding that whatever this is, it’s real.

He closes his eyes for a second, letting the sensation of the moment settle within him. When he opens them again, Marina is still there, her gaze soft, her expression peaceful. It’s as though the uncertainty has melted away, leaving only the quiet certainty of their shared space in the water.

“Thank you,” she says, her voice quiet but filled with meaning. “For allowing me space to feel comfortable,”

Tech shakes his head slightly, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “Ironic,” he pauses with a small shake of his head and a chuckle, “I was going to say the same to you.”

She returns the smile, and for a brief moment, everything feels perfectly balanced. Whatever happens next, he knows they’ll continue to navigate it side by side.

As the ocean gently rocks them, Tech tightens his hold on her, not out of need, but because he wants to. He wants this—whatever it may turn into. Nudging his head along hers, for the first time in a long time, he feels like he can let go of the weight of expectation, allowing himself to simply be present.

Unguarded.

As a Reminder this Lovely Art is by @leenathegreengirl!

NEXT Part>>>> HERE

[lupinestories]

Women, trans people, queer people, people of color, immigrants, disabled people, working class people, and so much more deserve to exist.

We deserve to exist.

[faemorningstar]

i haven't been making any mermay content this year because i've been trying so hard to keep up with TMayNT and also trying not to die (only partially succeeding)

Marina belongs to me, Rosie belongs to @sapphicwizzro

[marina-the-fisherman]

-Hey! Those are my glasses!

-Don't worry, I'll pay you. Thanks!

Ok so I got a new pair of glasses cause I lost my old ones. I also bought a backpack so I can carry everything I find.

_____________________

Glasses: -10 shrons

Backpack: -15 shrons

[1mmko]

[autoboros]

Even more inspiration has hit me. Mimic octopus who mirrors people they like

[lyvesynth]

THIS IS OLD BUT. more side order backlog art

[swordmaid]

distraction 😚😚😚

[astrallum]

Here's my contribution to @monochrome-walker

This is part of my series of drawings of Smollusk's reinterpretation as an octoling.

This is its 0rder form (wearing a facemask simillar to parallel can0n)

[leenathegreengirl]

Between Hearts and Ruin Event

So, ya girl has been experiencing some Technical difficulties lately…Here is a link to the full book version, if y’all are curious as to what’s been going on.

My bestie@legacygirlingreen has the full scoop on her blog too.

💕💜Tag List💜💕

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha @returnofthepineapple @antisocial-mariposa @techs-stitches @resistantecho @kimiheartblade @dezgate @sunshinesdaydream @rex-targaryen @freesia-writes @heidnspeak @queenjiru @commanderfury @kyda-atshushi @deezlees @thebadbatchfan @aknightreaderr

[gravefl0wers]

the name on everybody's lips is gonna be... marina.

[legacygirlingreen]

"Lady by the Sea" (2/2) || Tech x OC Marina || NSFW

Author's Note: Continuation on part 1 and this one is just pure smut honestly. Not much to it other than that... sorry I was sick all of last week so this got delayed a tad but yeah... I make no apologizes for the absolute menace Tech becomes. As always, the art is by the lovely @leenathegreengirl and this story exists within her Pabuverse AU. That said, I'd love some feedback because I crammed a lot in this one... ~ M

Pairings: Tech x OC Marina

Rating: NSFW

Word Count: 16.6+

Warnings: smut, unprotected intercourse, oral sex, lots of moving/positions, recording the act, lots of teasing, size difference subtly referenced, slight dom/sub tones, just general filth so minors be gone

Summary: What happens when Tech and Marina's evening turns a bit more... *redacted*

Masterlist | Tech's Encrypted Files | Previous | Next (Coming Soon)

Marina had long since lost track of time as she drifted weightlessly in the water, surrounded by the shimmering mōlī fish. The world around her had blurred, every sensation heightened by the gentle embrace of Tech's arms around her. The soft, intimate whispers he spoke against her chilled skin sent waves of warmth rushing through her, drowning her in a kind of intoxicating haze. She had never anticipated that the evening would unfold this way—yet, as the moments slipped by, she found no reason to question the unexpected turn. The kisses they shared, born from their mutual decision to keep things light but sincere, had started off tender, filled with an unspoken promise. But as the night deepened, the air between them shifted, and those same kisses grew more urgent, more charged. 

Her arms draped over his shoulders, allowing the former soldier to maintain most of their combined weight in the shallow water as he tread easily while holding them both above the waves. Marina assumed he could sustain the position with an ease for hours if he needed to, as Tech had still yet to show fatigue in the way his arms continued bound around her while their languid kisses turned more eager.

She wasn’t sure how exactly things had gone from passively enjoying one another so close, to more firm. Tech’s hands, still steady but now more insistent, roamed across Marina’s back, pulling her closer as the water swirled around them. Every brush of his lips, every whisper against her skin, seemed to ignite something deep inside her, a fire she hadn’t expected but now couldn’t ignore.

Tech’s movements grew more frantic as if he were afraid the moment might slip away. His lips parted, breath coming in shallow gasps against her skin. His body, betraying the soft control he usually wielded, pulsed with a raw energy—an energy that didn't quite match the calmness in his voice as he pulled back slightly, his eyes dark but filled with concern.

“Is this okay?” The words tumbled from him, steady but laced with an underlying promise of something more. His brow furrowed slightly, his voice low and careful, but his body told a different story. His chest rose and fell rapidly, and his hands, despite the calmness in his tone, skimmed over her arms, her waist, as though needing constant reassurance that she was still with him.

Marina could feel the contradiction in him—the tension in his muscles, the restraint in his voice, and the desperate hunger in his touch. It was as though he was trying to hold himself together, trying to keep himself in check, but the force of what was building between them was stronger than anything he could contain. He waited for her response, eyes searching hers, the flicker of concern in his gaze.

Marina felt the shift in herself as well—her own control slipping, even as she tried to cling to the fragments of logic that had brought her here. The way Tech’s concern filled his voice, his body, his very presence, only seemed to intensify everything she had been trying to suppress.

Her gaze lingered on him—really took him in for the first time in a way that was no longer clouded by the rush of the moment. Beyond his intelligence, his kindness, and that unshakable openness that made her feel safe with him, there was something else. Something that, until now, she had tried to ignore.

He was incredibly attractive. He had a sharpness to his features—his strong jawline, the high, defined cheekbones, and the slender yet assertive shape of his nose. Each line of his face seemed deliberate, sculpted to perfection. But there was something in the way his full lips curved slightly, softening the severity of his bone structure, that captivated her. His eyes, large and dark, seemed to harbor an endless depth—so intense that they could pull her in and hold her captive without a single word.

It was an alluring balance: the fierce sharpness of his features tempered by the softer, more inviting elements that invited her to linger. He wasn’t just attractive—he was magnetic. His tall, toned frame seemed to dominate the space around him, effortlessly commanding attention. Every muscle in his body rippled with a quiet power. The water clung to him in glistening droplets, each bead tracing the contours of his chest and arms, highlighting the strength he carried effortlessly. His skin, sun-kissed and warm, gleamed under the low light, as though it had been kissed by the very rays of summer itself.

Her eyes moved to his hair, the short cut she had suggested not long ago now accentuating his face in a way that made him look even more striking. Marina could see the path created by her fingers with the subconscious musing as they had pushed it back away from his face. The damp brown hue had a slight depth in color as it caught the dim light in ways that made it look softer and lighter than the color her own bore. The texture with the way it curled slightly at the edges, made her fingers itch to continue touching it. And his voice—calm and steady on the surface—had always been a source of comfort, but now it stirred something inside her, something primal and unrestrained. The way it vibrated through her as he spoke, the warmth in his tone, made her pulse quicken. 

Her gaze traveled, drawn to the strength in his arms, the way they flexed with each subtle movement, and how his chest expanded and contracted with each steady breath. She could see the tautness of his muscles, the hard lines of him, but there was also something undeniably fluid in the way he moved—almost like the water itself was an extension of his being. Returning to those brown eyes—always so rich with expression—held her gaze with a quiet, irresistible intensity. It was as if they weren’t just looking at her, but into her, asking questions without speaking. Pleading, almost, for something more than the easy comfort of shared moments. Something deeper. More intimate. A promise of what could come, if only they let themselves reach beyond what they had already built.

"Tech," she breathed, her voice low, her gaze fixed on him with an intensity that seemed almost hypnotic.

He raised an eyebrow, a flicker of curiosity crossing his face as he responded, “Yes, Dear?” The way he said the term of endearment made her heart flutter. He said it so calmly, so naturally, as if he’d waited for this exact moment in which he felt compelled to use it. 

Marina’s tongue flicked out briefly, wetting her lips, tasting the salt from the ocean water as her thoughts scattered by the intensity of the pull between them. She could feel the water's soft tug against her body, but it was nothing compared to the deeper, stronger current she was feeling now. She leaned in slightly, her voice barely more than a whisper. “Boat,” she only briefly paused before saying with a much more urgent tone, "Now.”

His eyes flashed with a brief moment of confusion, but the hesitation was fleeting. As her fingers curled around his shoulder, digging into the muscles of his upper back, the unspoken message was clear. He didn’t need to ask again. Without a word, Tech’s body shifted, and suddenly he was moving—fast and determined. His powerful strokes cut through the water effortlessly, as if her weight didn’t exist at all.

Marina clung to him, her hands still gripping him tightly, her body pressed against his, but she said nothing. Her eyes, wide with a mix of anticipation and desire, stayed fixed on the world around them. The bioluminescent fish, which had once illuminated the water with their soft glow, were now disappearing back into the dark depths, as though even the ocean itself sensed the shift in the air between them.

As they neared the boat, Tech’s movements became more deliberate. The boat’s ladder loomed ahead, but Tech didn’t pause. One hand shot out to grip the ladder, pulling himself up with practiced precision. His other arm wrapped securely around Marina’s waist, holding her against him as he hoisted them both onto the lower deck.

The motion was seamless, swift, and soon Marina found herself exposed to the cool evening air, shivering slightly as the chill of the night hit her skin. She was still suspended in his arms, her body lifted against his, every muscle taut with the intensity of the moment. His grip, firm and unyielding, held her in place, but it wasn’t just for support—it was as if he was anchoring her to him, not allowing the space between them to grow. Despite knowing he would not drop her, now that he was standing at full height, she wrapped her legs around his frame for stability.

Tech’s grip tightened slightly as he held her against him, his eyes locked on hers. His breath was warm against her skin, his chest rising and falling in a rhythm that matched her own quickened pulse. His lips parted, and for a moment, the air between them felt charged, heavy with something neither of them could ignore.

“Where?” His voice was soft, but the underlying edge in his tone spoke volumes—a mix of curiosity, concern, and something else, something more primal.

The simple question hung in the air, but it was the implication, the weight behind it, that made Marina’s breath catch in her throat. Where? The word was innocent enough, but the way he asked, the way his eyes searched hers for an answer, made her feel the heat pooling low in her stomach.

A warmth spread through her at the thought, an intoxicating flush that had nothing to do with the cool night air around them. It wasn’t just the physical proximity or the way he held her so effortlessly—it was something in his voice, the underlying desire that crept beneath the surface of his words. The question wasn’t just about direction; it felt like an invitation. Where would you like this moment to occur?

For a moment, Marina didn’t speak. Every inch of her body was acutely aware of him—of how close he was, how powerful he felt, how easily he could hold her without hesitation. Tech had been a soldier, and it was often easy to forget that fact when he spent most of his time puttering around a workshop or her lab. Additionally he was much lankier than some of his brothers. With the way his body seemed to commander her own attention with ease made her realize she too often neglected to remember that fact. She could feel his breath still warm on her skin, and it was as though his body was asking the same question her mind couldn’t yet answer.

Marina’s breath caught again, but this time it wasn’t just the rush of heat that had swept through her. The way Tech was looking at her—like he was waiting for her to decide—was enough to shatter whatever control she had left. His question, simple yet charged with so much unsaid, hung in the air between them, and she felt the weight of it. He was giving her the power to choose how this moment would unfold.

She swallowed hard, the space between them thick with anticipation. The cool night air brushed against her skin, but the warmth between them felt like it was rising, something deeper than mere attraction building at an undeniable pace. And in that moment, the uncertainty that had once clouded her mind seemed to dissolve, replaced by something direct.

"Wherever," she whispered, her voice soft but steady, every syllable carrying an unspoken promise. She could feel her pulse racing, the heat of her body rising as she spoke. "However," she continued, her words more firm now, the weight of them hanging between them, laden with meaning. "However you want me."

The words left her before she could second-guess them, and the effect they had on her was immediate. She felt her heart race, her body reacting before her mind could catch up. She wasn’t entirely sure what would come next, what he would choose to do with her admission, but at that moment, she didn’t care. The line between what was desired and what was logical had blurred long ago, and she wasn’t pulling back now.

Her hands, still wrapped around his body, tightened slightly, as if offering him silent permission, surrendering herself to whatever was about to happen. She had given him the choice, the power, and in doing so, something inside her snapped free—the wall she had tried to keep up crumbled. Whatever they were about to share, whatever came next, was no longer about restraint or caution. It was simply about this moment, the heat between them, and the way the world outside seemed to fade into nothing.

Tech didn’t speak at first, his gaze flicking from her lips to her eyes, as though searching for something in her expression. He didn’t need to ask again; the permission was clear, both in her voice and in the way her body had relaxed into his, trusting him, inviting him to take the lead.

Tech’s gaze softened just slightly, the raw burning fire still there, but now mixed with something else—appreciation, perhaps, or the quiet recognition of the trust she had just placed in him. Her words were like a key turning in a lock, and as the space between them closed again, the tension between them shifted. He seemed to breathe her in for a moment, as though savoring the very fact that she had given him that permission, that freedom.

Without breaking eye contact, his lips found hers once more, the kiss slower this time, but no less charged. The way his mouth moved over hers felt like a quiet exploration, each touch lingering just a little longer, as if he was savoring every moment of the connection. His arms tightened around her, pulling her closer, his chest pressing against hers, and Marina felt the undeniable pull of him, the heat of his body burning through her.

His hands slid down her back, tracing the soft curves of her body, finding the edges of her underwear with a gentle persistence. The subtle shift in his movements, the way he seemed to coax her, made her pulse quicken even further. He was giving her space, moving at a pace that matched her breathless rhythm, but it was clear that every inch of his body was responding to her just as eagerly.

She responded in kind, her hands sliding over his chest, feeling the firmness beneath her fingers. The press of him against her felt comforting, yet intoxicating—every part of her skin was hypersensitive, reacting to every press, every shift. She let her hands wander, following the path of his body, her fingers brushing over his toned arms and the taut lines of his back. There was no hesitation; the moment between them was stretched out, suspended in time, giving them space to explore, to feel.

His lips trailed down her jaw, his breath hot against her skin as he whispered, “Are you sure?” His voice was thick with desire, yet soft with the question, as if seeking her confirmation one last time.

Marina’s heart beat loud in her chest, the warmth spreading through her like wildfire. She could feel the electricity between them, the chemistry that was undeniable. The vulnerability in his voice, the way he sought her confirmation of consent, only made her want him more. She nodded slightly, her breath catching in her throat as she responded, her voice shaky but firm.

“Yes. I’m sure.”

Tech didn’t need to be told twice. Without hesitation, he shifted his hold on her, never once thinking to set her down as he moved with purpose. In just a few lengthy strides, he reached the door of her houseboat, swinging it open with a force that made the wood creak. The night air rushed in, but Tech’s focus was unwavering as his eyes scanned the small interior, seeking out the first flat surface he could claim. His gaze landed on the table, barely illuminated by the faint glow from the lantern he’d set on it earlier.

Marina’s eyes followed the direction of his gaze, her vision clouded by the dimness of the space. The gentle lapping of the water beneath them seemed far away, distant and muted compared to the storm of sensations building between them. Tech’s breathing was louder than normal, right against the skin of her neck, but she didn’t find it offputting. She felt the tightening of his grip around her, his body moving with a fluid urgency as he maneuvered her in his arms.

With a swift motion, he used one arm to clear the table, pushing aside the scattered papers and random knick-knacks with a mix of force and carelessness. The soft clatter of objects hitting the floor—along with the lantern, which toppled with a dull thud—was a sudden wake-up call. The brief interruption was nothing compared to the palpable tension in the air, but it was enough to snap both of them fully into the present, their surroundings crashing back into reality.

Before she could process what had just happened, Marina’s back was pressed against the cool, smooth surface of the table. The feeling of her damp skin meeting the chilled wood made her breath hitch, the stark contrast between the heat of their bodies and the sudden coolness sending a shiver down her spine. Her body trembled from the shock, but it was the electrifying pull of his presence, his weight still looming over her, that made her pulse race. Tech didn’t pause. His movements were sure, guided by a hunger that mirrored her own, as he loomed over her, his hands still firmly gripping her, holding her in place.

The quiet of the houseboat was shattered only by the sound of their breathing, the harsh reality of the moment settling around them. Marina’s chest rose and fell rapidly as she stared up at him, her heart pounding in sync with his.

He didn’t speak, leaning over her frame. His large hands pushed her hair off her face almost reverently, and gently to the side as he tucked a strand behind her ear. They then worked their way down, tracing the length of her body before he leaned in, taking one of her nipples in his mouth without warning. Tongue circling the piercing before he pulled the stud into his mouth.

Tech was brilliant with his words. Collected, confident and rarely faltering. He had a brilliant wit and even sharper tongue. It became immediately apparent just how talented that tongue of his could be beyond simple conversation… 

Marina clenched her teeth, hissing out before her hands found his neck and the short tendrils of hair at the back of his head. The action had been unexpected, but he hadn’t relented as his other hand came up to squeeze her opposite breast. She felt the heat of his mouth on her breast igniting something all over her body, but namely the pulsing between her thighs. 

Tech finally pulled away, a sly smirk playing at the corners of his lips before it blossomed into a full, satisfied grin. And there, nestled between his teeth—her piercing. It caught the moonlight filtering through the window, gleaming faintly with a soft, almost mischievous sparkle. His gaze flicked down to her with a smug confidence, the prize he’d so effortlessly taken momentarily inflating his ego. Marina remained motionless, stunned, her eyes wide as she processed the boldness of his actions.

Her mouth fell open in surprise, her mind struggling to reconcile what had just happened. How had he managed to unwind the piercing with nothing but his mouth? The question lingered in the air, but there was no time to ask it.

Tech’s expression shifted, a quiet triumph radiating from him. She could see it in the glint of his eyes—the way the moment had settled into him, fueling something primal. He turned his face slightly, his lips pulling back as he spat the metal object onto the bench next to the table. The soft clink of it hitting the surface seemed to punctuate the daring act. Then, without hesitation, he leaned back over her, his forearms bracing above her, just enough to keep his weight hovering tantalizingly close without fully pressing down on her.

“I admit,” Tech’s voice dropped lower, a hint of amusement threading through his words, “I’ve wondered how they’d feel under my tongue ever since I noticed the modification.” His gaze held hers, dark and sincere, and there was no mistaking the quiet satisfaction in his tone. “I’m happy to report,” he trailed off, a grin tugging at the corners of his mouth, “it is most pleasant.”

Marina’s breath hitched at his words, a shiver running down her spine as his honesty pierced through the air between them. His tone, casual yet filled with a quiet, unmistakable desire, made her pulse quicken. There was something about the way he spoke—how he made his admission sound both playful, intelligent and intimate.

Her mind was still catching up to the unexpected turn of events, and she could feel the tension in the room, thick with unspoken desire. Her heart raced, and she couldn’t help but feel a surge of heat rise to her cheeks. She wasn’t sure if it was the raw boldness of what he’d just done, or the way his words seemed to promise even more—whatever it was, it left her dizzy, unsteady.

Tech’s gaze never wavered, his amber eyes studying her closely, noting every flicker of surprise and the subtle shift in her expression. The triumphant gleam in his eye hadn’t dimmed at all, but now it seemed to carry a quiet challenge. The kind of challenge that made her wonder just how far this moment would go.

Marina’s lips parted, her breath shallow as she struggled to form a response. She could feel the weight of his body despite his forearms hoisting his frame to hover above her. His presence was magnetic, demanding her attention, making it impossible for her to think of anything else but him.

“I didn’t take you for the… playful type,” she managed to say, her voice a little breathless, tinged with both awe and something else she couldn’t quite place. The words slipped out before she could think, and the moment they left her mouth, she realized just how much of a statement they truly were.

Tech’s smile widened, an almost predatory gleam flickering in his eyes as he leaned in even closer, the tension between them rising. His breath ghosted over her skin, teasing her with its proximity. “I am merely eager to explore,” he murmured, his voice low and laden with promise. His lips brushed just barely against her ear as he spoke, sending a shiver through her. 

Her eyes closed as he sucked on her earlobe before tugging it past his teeth and pulling slightly. Hands gripping his shoulders to help her steady the action, Marina decided that he shouldn’t possibly have all the fun. Sliding her leg up, she wrapped one around his waist, thrusting her hip into his center. Only the thin layers of both their undergarments separating them. 

At her bold action Tech grunted in her ear, pulling back to look down at her. Marina was pleased that she had pulled him from the crux of her neck so she could see his expression as she thrust once more against his hardening length. With a smug grin playing at the corners of her lips, she reached out and lightly traced a hand up his back, her fingers grazing his skin as she subtly tugged him closer. “Mind relocating to someone a bit more comfortable, Stud?” she whispered, her voice dripping with playful challenge.

He paused, the teasing spark in his eyes not quite matching the slight tension in his posture. “I am uncertain… I do like the thoughts of you stuck here beneath me,” he replied, his smirk tugging at the edge of his words.

She arched an eyebrow, her expression shifting to something more intrigued. “Got a thing for being in control?”

“Perhaps,” he replied with a deliberately casual shrug, though his tone remained tight, betraying the effort to sound indifferent. His attempt at sarcasm, though laced with a hint of mock carelessness, was as endearing as it was irresistible.

Her fingers slid up his spine, slow and deliberate, sending a ripple of warmth through him. "Interesting…," she said softly, her smile widening with the unmistakable satisfaction of someone who knew exactly what effect she was having. "Then I guess we’ll see who’s really in charge, won’t we?"

For a brief moment, there was nothing but the soft sound of their breathing, the space between them charged with a tension neither was willing to break. But even with the playfulness and the constant banter, there was an undeniable thread of something deeper, something more intense weaving through their words. They were locked in a game, but neither of them seemed in any rush to win.

He leaned in closer, his breath brushing against her neck as he whispered, “Oh, I don’t plan on losing.” There was a subtle shift in his tone, a hint of challenge now weaving into his words. The playful dynamic had evolved, and now, the space between them felt thicker—more charged.

She smirked, her fingers now trailing a line down his chest, teasing the sensitive skin there as she leaned back, allowing a moment of space to settle between them. “I’m not so easily intimidated,” she said, her voice soft but unwavering, like steel beneath velvet.

His gaze sharpened, a flicker of admiration flashing in his eyes for the unwavering resolve she exuded, but the playful spark in his demeanor remained undiminished. “I know,” he replied, the corners of his mouth curving into a wider smirk. “Still, it’ll make for an intriguing case study… as for this relocation idea. What do you suggest?”

Her lips parted in a sly grin, her eyes locking onto his with a fierce, promising gleam. The air between them crackled with unspoken tension as she tilted her head, her response coming without hesitation, bold and direct. “Bedroom.”

He chuckled softly, but the amusement in his eyes was underscored by something deeper. “Hold on then,” he spoke firmly, his voice taking on a teasing edge as his eyes rolled with mock exasperation, as though the suggestion itself had been the only thing keeping him in place. His posture shifted, as if he would only allow this moment to move forward if she gave him permission to carry her—her body, her trust—entirely.

But she wasn’t the type to make it easy for him.

“I have legs, you know,” Marina giggled up at him, her voice light but laced with a teasing edge. “You don’t have to carry me around like some Neanderthal on a mission to further the species.”

Her fingers gently traced the wispy hairs near his temple, a soft touch that contrasted with the fire in her eyes, making the moment feel even more intimate. She leaned in just enough for him to feel her breath on his skin, her playful tone making it clear she wasn’t about to let him take control without a challenge.

For a moment, he remained still, the rhythm of her touch sending a jolt of electricity through him, his gaze inevitably drawn to her lips. It was as if the world had momentarily faded away, leaving only the space between them, thick with anticipation. The playful tension hung in the air, undeniable, as though a silent understanding had passed between them—an unspoken challenge, a mutual acknowledgment of what lay beneath the surface.

But despite the simmering heat of their teasing, he wasn’t ready to concede just yet. The corner of his mouth curled into a sly, knowing grin as he tilted his head slightly. “Isn’t that what intimacy is all about?” he said, his voice lowering with deliberate intent. “The fulfillment of one’s biological desires for reproduction?” His words, though casual, carried an edge—suggesting that the game was far from over, and he wasn’t backing down.

Marina gasped in mock indignation, her eyes wide in exaggerated shock as she slapped his chest with a playful smack. The sound was light, but the spark in her gaze was anything but. “Who knew you’d be such a brute, Tech?” she teased, her lips curling into a wicked grin as she met his eyes, daring him to take her challenge further.

"A brute?" he echoed, the word rolling off his tongue with a deliberate slowness, his voice tinged with amusement. The same mischievous spark that had ignited earlier, when he'd taken the piercing, flickered back to life in his eyes. He was ready to play—more than ready. His hands, confident and sure, slipped beneath the gap where her back arched off the table, feeling the warmth of her skin as he pulled her effortlessly into his arms. The move was swift, fluid, as if he’d done it a thousand times, and within an instant, she was pressed against him, her breath hitching at the sudden shift in dynamics.

"Now, I wouldn’t exactly classify myself as a brute," he murmured, his voice low and smooth, "but if you’d prefer me to behave as one..." His words trailed off, leaving an open invitation for her to choose her next move, an unspoken challenge hanging in the air. The tension between them had thickened, each of them locked in a delicate power play, neither willing to back down.

She tilted her chin up slightly, her lips brushing just barely against his ear as she whispered, "Oh, I’m not sure I prefer anything...." Her voice was silky, with a hint of teasing defiance as she let her fingers trail down the line of his jaw. Her touch was deliberate, slow, savoring the proximity, the sensation of being this close to him. "But... I’m certainly curious to see how far you are willing to let this little charade go."

His grip tightened, just enough to send a shiver through her, but he didn’t pull her any closer—no, he let the moment hang, giving her the space to make the next move. He wasn’t going to rush this. He wanted to see how far she’d push him, how far she’d go in this dance of wills.

The playfulness in his eyes never wavered, but the edge in his voice was unmistakable as he murmured, “Curiosity’s a dangerous thing, Marina. Be careful what you wish for.”

She met his gaze, her lips curling into a sly smile as she raised an eyebrow. “Who said I was the one who needed to be careful?”

Her hands slid slowly up to the back of his neck, her fingers tracing the firm line of his muscles before she gently tugged him down, just a fraction of an inch, their lips so close now that the slightest shift would bring them together. The space between them seemed to pulse, the silence loud with the unspoken challenge.

And then, just as he leaned in, prepared to close the distance, she pulled away with a subtle, teasing motion. A wicked smirk danced on her lips as his eyes snapped open, frustration and desire flashing briefly before he exhaled sharply, a huff of annoyance slipping from his lips. She watched him, enjoying every second of the controlled chaos she’d created between them.

“Final warning,” he murmured, his voice a low hum that vibrated through her skin, and his lips curled into a smirk that spoke volumes—he wasn’t about to let her keep playing this game forever.

Marina met his eyes with a daring glint in hers, her pulse racing as she tilted her head slightly. “I’ll take my chances,” she replied, her voice playful but filled with a defiance that only heightened the tension.

His gaze darkened, the playful spark in his eyes morphing into something more intense, more predatory. He was done waiting. “You sure about that?” he murmured, his breath warm against her skin as he leaned in again, this time with a purposeful intent. His hand slid to her waist, fingers brushing the fabric of her underwear, feeling the heat of her skin beneath it.

This time, she didn’t pull away. Instead, she met him halfway, their lips finally locking in a kiss that was equal parts desperate and controlled, a collision of wills that had been building to this moment. The kiss was deep, hungry—neither of them willing to hold back any longer.

Her hands tangled in his hair, pulling him closer, and he responded by pressing her gently but firmly against the surface of the table, this time upright as he lowered her feet back to the floor. The second Marina’s toes touched the ground below she slid her tongue across his lower lip, and when he opened up she pulled away, sliding under his arm before he could react. 

“I said bedroom,” she replied firmly, her voice steady but laced with an undeniable spark, her eyes glimmering in the soft glow of the moonlight that filtered through the windows.

Tech stood frozen, his mouth agape, momentarily stunned by how effortlessly she’d halted the momentum of their encounter. The speed with which she had not only stopped but created just enough space between them left him momentarily disoriented. He hadn’t expected it—hadn’t expected her to take control so suddenly. But by the time his mind finally caught up, she was already turning, her movements smooth and deliberate.

With a fluid motion, she began walking away from him, her steps light yet purposeful. Her bare feet padded softly against the cool floor of her houseboat, the subtle sway of the vessel adding an almost hypnotic rhythm to the way she moved. Each step was a graceful dance, a seductive rhythm that had him following her instinctively, like a man entranced, unable to resist the pull she had on him.

He couldn’t help but trail behind her, a half-smirk tugging at the corner of his lips. He was fully aware of how absurd he looked—following her with a mix of fascination and desire, like a dog trailing behind its owner, hoping for a taste of whatever was next.

But there was no hesitation in his step, no second thoughts. Just the undeniable draw to what came next. And right now, all he wanted was to follow her, wherever that may lead.

For a moment, he completely forgot the brief challenge she’d issued. The thought barely registered as she stepped aside, allowing him to follow her into the bedroom quarters. In that instant, something shifted, and in a way, Tech had already lost—his attention fully captured by the sight of her, the magnetic pull of her presence. But as she leaned against the door frame, watching him with those eyes that glinted with a promise of something playful, something dangerous, he couldn’t help but think—maybe he hadn’t lost anything at all.

The way she stood there, her posture relaxed yet undeniably confident, filled the room with an almost electric tension. Her body language alone spoke volumes, a silent command to which he found himself helplessly drawn. The subtle curve of her lips, the teasing glint in her eyes, all but ensured that the fun ahead would be on her terms—and for the first time in a long while, he found himself eager to let her take the lead.

As he stood just next to her, the height of his frame towering over her slight form, there was a moment of stark contrast: his strength, his imposing presence, yet in the space between them, she held the reins. He could feel it, the way the air shifted, the way her power, quiet and sure, filled the space.

And then, as she closed the door behind him with a soft click, the room suddenly felt smaller, more intimate. Marina didn’t need to speak a word. She knew exactly the effect she had on him, the way his breath had already begun to hitch, the way his entire demeanor had softened under her gaze. It was as if he was already at her mercy, though he hadn’t fully realized it yet.

For her part, Marina was acutely aware of the power she held in this moment. Tech, with all his strength and precision, was letting her lead this dance. She could see the conflict in his eyes—there was a brief flicker of hesitation, a second where he might have pulled away or reclaimed control—but it passed. And with that, her pulse quickened.

The only thought that ran through her mind now was how much she wanted to watch this beautifully complex, often awkward man fall apart at the seams. Tech was usually so composed, so controlled in his own way, but she could feel the walls he’d built around himself crumbling, piece by piece, under her gaze.

She was going to enjoy this.

Stepping forward with deliberate grace, Marina closed the distance between them, her movements slow and measured, each step purposeful. When she finally stopped, she was standing directly in front of him, close enough that she could feel the heat radiating off his body. His eyes were wide, unobstructed behind his usual eyewear, and they locked onto hers, filled with a mixture of curiosity and something darker. He looked down at her, his head tilting slightly to the side, as though he were trying to decipher her intentions.

But Marina didn’t give him the chance to speak. She didn’t allow the words that were no doubt on the tip of his tongue to break the fragile moment they’d created. Instead, she moved with a quiet confidence, her fingers grazing delicately along the exposed skin of his chest. The light touch was a sharp contrast to the fire building in her gaze.

“Why don’t you sit down, love?” she murmured, her voice low and soothing, but laced with something more commanding beneath the surface. “You look like you’re about to faint.”

The playful yet teasing tone in her words only served to heighten the anticipation, making the space between them feel charged with an electric energy. She could see his chest rise and fall with a quickened breath, his heart rate betraying him, but he didn’t move. Not yet. Marina’s eyes never left his, watching him closely as if she were trying to unravel him, piece by piece.

Tech scoffed lightly at her insinuation, a half-smile playing at the corner of his lips, but he still found himself sitting on the edge of her bed anyway. He couldn’t quite help it—her challenge, the unspoken invitation in the air, was far too tempting. As he settled, his hands instinctively came to rest on the tops of his legs. That’s when he became aware of the lingering dampness of his underwear—evident from their earlier dip in the ocean. The cool, salty fabric clung to him uncomfortably, a reminder of the waves and the quick plunge they’d taken together.

A slight frown tugged at his brow as he shifted, instinctively attempting to sit up straighter. He glanced down at the sheets, wondering if it would be rude to get them damp from the ocean water. The last thing he wanted was to ruin anything in her space, especially after their light banter, but before he could even rise to adjust himself, he felt a hand press firmly against his chest, holding him in place.

He looked up, about to voice his concern. “The sheets—”

“They’re fine,” she hummed, cutting him off, her voice smooth and casual, yet undeniably confident. Without missing a beat, she moved with a fluid grace, sliding across his lap to settle herself comfortably on him. The weight of her on top of him, her body pressing against his, was a quiet but powerful statement of control. She wasn’t giving him a choice. And somehow, he didn’t mind in the least.

The sensation of her warmth against him, coupled with the gentle, unbothered way she claimed her space, made the room feel infinitely smaller, more intimate. He could feel the dampness of his clothes pressing against her, but she seemed entirely unfazed, her eyes glinting with mischief and something deeper. He couldn’t quite place it, but the anticipation building between them was palpable, thick as the air in the room.

Her room wasn’t exactly spacious by any means. Tech hadn’t spent much time in this part of her houseboat; space was always at a luxury on a vessel. The cabin where her bed and personal belongings were kept was a place he’d only briefly glimpsed during the tour she’d given him. With her frequent ocean dips, the shower was located in a separate area altogether, which meant he had never truly stepped into this private space until now.

The walls were adorned with light wood paneling, giving the room a soft, natural warmth. The bed, while not small, was far from expansive. It was the kind of bed that could comfortably accommodate two people, but not without a certain closeness—no sprawling space between them. It had an intimate feel, but not in a way that invited excess. The decor was simple, almost understated. A few small drawings of marine life dotted the walls, each piece capturing a glimpse of the ocean’s beauty. Framed photos were scattered about, offering brief windows into her life, though none were overtly personal.

The sheets were freshly made, pulled tight and smooth over the mattress, and everything in the room had a neat, almost clinical order to it. There was a cleanliness to the space, but it lacked the warmth of personal touches—no clutter, few mementos that told the story of who she was outside of her love for the sea. It was a room that felt kept, not lived in. A quiet, serene space that somehow felt more like a temporary shelter than a true reflection of her life.

Tech broke his gaze from the room, his attention snapping back to the woman who had settled comfortably in his lap. Her thumbs were moving in soothing motions up and down the back of his neck, her touch light but deliberate, offering no words as she let him absorb the unfamiliar space. She didn’t rush him, didn’t interrupt his quiet exploration of her world, allowing him a moment to adjust to the shift in dynamics. She’d given him the time to settle, to process, without forcing any reactions, and the silence between them was thick with unspoken understanding.

There was no need for commentary on the shift in tone—the playful tension from the table had morphed into something else entirely, yet she remained calm, unbothered by the change. In fact, it felt as if she were offering him the space to come to terms with it on his own time.

Finally, breaking the silence, her voice was soft, almost tentative. "Is this moving too fast for you?" Her hands continued their gentle path around his neck, her fingers now meeting behind his head, fingers threading together as if anchoring him to the moment. She watched him carefully, waiting for his response, her gaze steady and patient.

Tech didn’t answer immediately. Instead, he shook his head slightly, the subtle gesture enough to signal that it wasn’t too fast, that he was still very much present in the moment. His silence was enough—no words were necessary. But the way his body relaxed under her touch spoke volumes.

The moment lingered in the air, thick with tension and something deeper, something that neither of them could name yet. Tech’s eyes met hers, his gaze steady but there was a flicker there, a spark that told her everything she needed to know. She didn’t push him for more, didn’t ask him to voice what he might have been feeling, because somehow, in that silence, everything had already been said.

Her hands remained on him, gentle but grounding, the warmth of her fingers sending a quiet reassurance through his body. Tech felt the weight of her presence, not just physically, but in the way she had so effortlessly taken the lead without demanding it, without forcing anything. He was still processing, still adjusting to the shift, but somehow, he didn’t feel out of place. She had a way of making things feel right, of drawing him into her world without hesitation.

“Not at all,” he finally spoke, his voice low and steady, the words coming easier now. “I’m fine.”

He gave a small smile, but it wasn’t the usual confident grin he wore. No, this one was softer, more genuine. Something about her had cracked open a part of him he hadn’t even realized was still closed off. There was no rush, no need to move too quickly. 

Her lips curled slightly in response, her fingers continuing to trace small, slow patterns against the back of his neck. "Good," she whispered, her tone almost a purr as she leaned in closer, her breath warm against his ear. "Because we’re just getting started."

And with that, she led a trail of kisses up his neck that made his eyes close at the contact. It was dizzying how she expertly trailed his skin, knowing the right amount of pressure with each spot she explored. The varying levels of pressure - some simply caresses of her lips, other more desperate nibbles or bits of suction on his body - made his head spin. 

Tech reached around, latching his arms around her waist for stability, holding her closer against him until he felt one of her hands reach around to put his open palm over her exposed breast. She was encouraging him to be proactive, and while Tech was not used to being the copilot, he allowed her to guide him in making this experience a bit more mutual. 

When she finally pulled her lips away from his skin to catch her breath, Tech slowly reopened his eyes, taking in the sight of her huddled up in his lap. He hadn’t truly appreciated the view before, too consumed by the haze of their closeness, but now, the sight of her in the moonlight , right there before him was undeniable. Her hair had taken on a wild, frizzy texture from their swim earlier, the soft waves in her locks now a carefree mess, haphazardly falling around her face where his hands had tangled through it.

Her lips, still swollen and tinged with a soft, rose-colored hue, were slightly parted, breath shallow from the intensity of their shared moments. The flush of desire was evident across her face, adding to the raw beauty of the moment. But what really caught his attention was the contrast of their skin tones—his darker complexion against the soft porcelain of hers, where his hands had rested on her body. 

Tech’s eyes trailed over to her breasts, noticing that despite the missing piece of metal he’d removed earlier, that the nipple still stood at attention as the other one. Same enticing shade as her lips, while his mouth watered at the thoughts of having them back in his mouth. They were truly the perfect size: a handful, no more, no less. Perky and always showcasing such a lovely shape through whatever she wore. But having them now, directly in front of his face unobstructed, he couldn’t help but reach out and flick at the one he wasn’t holding with his tongue. 

Marina sighed, tugging at his hair as he did so and he smiled at the way she responded so eagerly. It was increasingly arousing how much her body adapted to his touch, while also seeming to seek him out. Her eyes reopened once more, noting that he had only indulged in a small taste of her salt kissed skin, her eyes probing his own to see where things would go next. 

When he didn’t take the lead, she took that as a signal to continue on with their endeavor, by sliding off his lap and onto the floor between his spread legs. On her knees, Tech looked down as he saw her fingers tugging at the waistband of his boxers. Both of them had only been wearing their underwear since they jumped in the water, a fact that was beginning to pound in his skull as he realized he’d been nearly nude this whole time with a woman he found enticing in his personal space. 

Lifting his hips, he accommodated her nonverbal request in sliding the material off his body. Tech was grateful she seemingly took care in not pulling too harshly, as the damp cloth stuck to his skin. When the offending material was far enough down his thighs that it slid away with ease ,he sat back, this time on the very edge of her bed, looking down at her as his cock sprang out. 

Tech momentarily regretted his decision to not wear his goggles, because something about the way she looked at his crotch, licking her lips before her eyes shifted to his own was electrifying. The man was confident he knew the direction things were going, but that didn’t stop him from lurching forward when she took him inside her mouth. The warm, wet invitation of her soft lips parting way, so that he could fit snuggly alongside her tongue was overwhelming. 

From an early age, he had learned that the Fett genetics manifested with subtle variations. Even some of the regs showed slight differences in their irises or hair color. While clones were genetically identical replicas of a single lineage, it didn’t mean the genes couldn’t express themselves in unexpected ways. The same was true for his squad. Due to their enhancements  they were different in many ways. The time spent together—both with his brothers and the regs—he came to realize they were… distinctly different in that particular regard. By a long shot.

Not that he actively sought it out, but there was a certain curiosity. As for Tech, he had noticed early on that he stood noticeably taller than the regs—and even Hunter. He and Crosshair shared a lanky, taller frame that far exceeded the standard height of most clones. The same could be said in other areas, where he maintained that… length.

So despite that knowledge he had, Tech was surprised when he looked down to see Marina’s nose, practically pressed to his thigh, as she’d managed to take on almost the entirety of his length down her throat. She hadn’t struggled to do so either, simply easing him in, eyes flashing up to make sure he was okay as the soft exhales through her nose against his skin made the hair on the back of his neck rise with anticipation.

Neither of them moved. Tech was afraid if he did so, he’d lead to her gagging or being uncomfortable, and Marina was merely preparing to do so when she knew that the moment would not be interrupted once she started. 

Easing back up some, pulling out ever so slightly Marina maintained eye contact with him. Tech felt like squirming at the look she was giving him while she did so. But when she suddenly moved back down, bobbing her head as she went, Tech couldn’t help the loud groan that escaped his lips as his hand quickly flew to the back of her head. 

“Oh…” he murmured, fingers tightly clutching her hair as he pushed himself back on the bed the best he could. The restraint it took to not buck his hips up into her mouth was overwhelming, since he wanted to avoid hurting her. 

Instead he focused on the sloppy sounds of the fast pace she maintained, sliding her mouth over him with a speed he hadn’t anticipated. As her hair began covering her face, he used his hands the best he could to push it back and out of her way. The small attention to the detail seemingly appreciated, as it led to her nodding, along with humming against his length. 

Tech could not recall ever having such vigor applied to the action of oral stimulation. It was the kind of attention he’d seen only in videos on encrypted holochannels. He had assumed such a pace would be nearly unpleasant, but finally experiencing it, he couldn’t help but let his dark eyes drift shut and his head lean back. The near vibration under his skin caused by the incredible sensation making him lose control. But then he heard a huff of indignation. 

Marina glanced up at him, her eyebrows arched in a silent question as she slowly released him. Her voice was soft yet firm as she spoke, “You don’t have to suppress your natural desires, Tech.”

His throat tightened, and heat spread up his neck as he quickly responded, “I do not wish to hurt you in any way.” The words felt too stiff, even though they were sincere, betraying the nervous energy that buzzed under his calm exterior.

She offered a reassuring smile, her hand gently stroking the length of his skin, as if trying to ease the tension that had coiled so tightly around him. “You won’t,” she said softly, her touch grounding him, her voice a quiet attempt to soothe his worries. “You don’t have to hold back. I trust you.”

Tech's breath hitched, her words settling into him like a gentle wave, and yet the unease didn’t entirely fade. He struggled with the urge to stay in control, but Marina's calm presence was slowly allowing him to reconsider, to trust both her and himself a little more.

Marina gathered her hair, sweeping it up and behind her head, pulling it into a makeshift ponytail that she held in place just for him. The gesture was both practical and inviting, silently encouraging him to take over, to replace her hands with his. "If it gets to be too much," she said with a gentle, reassuring tone, "I can pinch your leg to signal you to stop." Her words were a subtle promise of communication, a backup plan to ensure they both felt in control, but the small, knowing smile tugging at the corner of her lips added an unspoken layer of trust between them.

Tech hesitated, fingers twitching as he lightly gripped her hair, still unsure of the best course of action. "I—" he stammered, unsure of how to fully express his thoughts. His hand flexed, holding her hair with growing resolve as he nodded slowly, his voice trailing off. "That is… acceptable," he finally managed, only to be cut off as Marina boldly resumed her actions with steady confidence, leaving him to adjust in kind.

“Oh maker!” he hissed, fingers tightly gripping her hair as his hips shot forward slightly. A small gag noise came from her throat as she continued. Tech appreciated the further depth he slid to when he moved unintentionally. Allowing himself to follow her instruction, he let his body slightly shift forward again. This time she seemed more prepared, taking him deeper as his hips rutted into her mouth. 

The feeling was heavenly. Tech couldn’t recall something so wonderful. Intercourse in the traditional sense was one thing, but this was something else entirely. Something within him knew there was a different level of trust associated with an act like this. Trust and… a filthiness he was growing increasingly aroused by. 

Tech tried to stop the more intense thrusting of his hips, but when it was met with a deeper slide down her throat and a hum of approval, who was he to stop? Looking down he could see her eyes had finally shut as she focused on simply allowing him the chance to experience this in full. Watching her lips stretch around him, and the subtle collection of tears at the corner of her lashline truly made his head spin. 

“Ahhh… Marina…” he mumbled out, letting his eyes drift shut too, simply consumed by the moment. The movement. The way her cheeks hollowed and the pull on his length made him see stars. And then, the scary realization at truly how close he’d drifted. Tech tried to stop her. Saying her name again, this time more firm in an effort to get her attention. He tried pulling her hair, hoping that he’d be successful in removing her before things got messy.

But with a fairly strong bob of her head, and the sudden loose grip of her hand on his sack, he couldn't hold it back any more. One last attempt at removing her, ultimately failing as she sucked him in harder, Tech watched as his hips staggered forward and he began spilling down her throat. 

She didn’t stop moving until his hips stopped moving, pulling away as her eyes opened. He could see the glassy appearance of them as she made a point of swallowing, before licking her lips. Tech’s mouth dropped open, never having finished inside someone’s mouth. To do so, felt wrong, that was until she smiled at him, pushing his shoulders back until he landed on her bed with a slight thud. Tech watched as Marina climbed over his frame, propping herself up with a smile.

"I win," she declared with a playful grin. Tech, having completely forgotten about their earlier challenge to see who would take charge, groaned in quiet frustration.

"Perhaps for this round," he replied, his voice low, "but if you allow me a moment for the refractory period to pass, I promise I'll be more… engaging." His words faltered, a tinge of regret creeping into his tone as he realized how one-sided the encounter had been. "I apologize for not being able to contain myself," he added, his voice trailing off with a subtle hint of shame, knowing he'd focused entirely on his own pleasure without considering hers.

As he spoke she leaned down, pressing her lips to his own, effectively silencing him. He returned the embrace, hands steady on her waist as his mouth moved with her own. As his tongue met hers, he noticed the slightly salty taste still on her tongue and didn’t know why exactly the reminder of what she had done caused him to be overwhelmed once more with that flush of desire. 

Marina pulled away for a moment, her gaze soft but purposeful. "I wanted to show you a good time," she said gently, her words carrying a quiet reassurance.

Tech paused, mulling over her statement. The guilt that lingered beneath his thoughts was familiar, but rather than argue with it, he chose to accept her words. Instead of voicing his internal struggle, he made a silent decision. He would let his actions speak for him—and he would make sure to show her, soon.

"And a good time that was," he murmured, his fingers gently tucking a loose strand of her hair behind her ear as he looked up at her, noticing how she was comfortably perched on his chest. "I just want to return the favor."

Marina's eyes sparkled with a mischievous gleam as she tilted her head slightly, a sly grin tugging at the corners of her lips. "No one is stopping you," she teased, her voice low and inviting, her words a silent challenge.

Tech felt the weight of her gaze, the air between them thickening as her playful confidence silently urged him forward. His hand, still resting lightly on her hair, slid slowly down her neck to her back, pulling her a little closer. "You’re still clothed, you know?" he remarked, his fingers briefly brushing the waistband of her underwear before pausing.

"Yeah?" she replied with a raised brow, a sly smile tugging at her lips. "What do you intend to do about that?" The challenge in her voice was paired with an unspoken invitation.

Tech couldn’t help but smile in return. There was something about the straightforward, teasing banter they’d developed that felt entirely effortless. He was still amazed at how natural everything between them had become—nothing felt forced. Every move he made, every action, seemed to flow almost instinctively, whether it was driven by an impulse or a fleeting thought he decided to act on. It was as if they had a rhythm, a silent understanding that made it all feel completely right.

Tech wrapped his arms tightly around Marina, using his strength to lift both of them off the bed despite the weight of her body anchoring him down. The sudden movement caught her off guard, and she let out a soft giggle, but made no attempt to stop him. She didn’t question his intentions either, content to let him lead the way as he set her feet down on the floor and quickly rid her of the remaining fabric, tossing her effortlessly over his shoulder. Without a word, he carried her out of the room.

"Where are you going?" she laughed, her voice playful, but Tech didn’t answer. When she repeated the question, giving his back a light smack, he responded only with a firm, playful slap to her bottom. The sharp gasp she gave him made him smile, but there were no further questions after that.

The soft sound of waves gently lapping against the shore filled the air again as Tech stepped onto the deck, the moon still high above, casting a silvery glow that illuminated the path before him. He walked with purpose, his footsteps steady, and when he reached the flat part of the deck, he paused. His eyes scanned for their clothes from earlier, along with the cushions from the bench. He quickly gathered what he needed, fashioning a makeshift spot on the deck, all while still carrying her effortlessly over his shoulder. Marina hadn’t spoken since they left the room, her silence adding an element of mystery to the moment.

As he lowered her gently to the deck, the air between them thickened, and the quiet of the night surrounded them. The rhythmic sound of the waves was the only noise, their soft lullaby adding a layer of calm to the otherwise charged atmosphere. Marina remained quiet as he carefully placed her down, her gaze meeting his with an intensity that matched the silence between them

"It’s too beautiful of an evening to stay cooped up inside, don’t you think?" he asked casually, settling beside her, their bodies facing one another. The moonlight bathed her pale skin in a soft glow, and he couldn’t help but admire the way it illuminated her. His fingers traced the contours of her body, following the path of the tattoos beneath his touch, each mark telling a story he only hoped to one day read.

His gaze briefly flickered down to the lower deck, and he noticed his goggles still resting there. Raising a hand to signal a moment, he quickly retrieved them, setting them aside before returning to trace her skin absentmindedly. "I find these tattoos of yours quite fascinating," he murmured, his fingers grazing the marks with genuine curiosity. "Modifications like these have always seemed like a simple truth to me—some people have them, others do not. Some for personal reasons, others for cosmetic ones. But I must admit," he paused, his voice softening, "I find the way they frame your body... undeniably enticing, if you don’t mind me saying."

“Thank you,” she said softly, her shy grin tugging at the corners of her lips. “Might I admit something as well?”

“Of course,” Tech replied, his voice steady, though the way she spoke made him instinctively shift his body toward hers. His thoughts stirred, the familiar desire stirring within him, but he managed to hold it at bay. Something in the way she looked at him, her gaze tender yet filled with quiet intensity, made him pause.

Without breaking eye contact, Marina slowly reached up, her fingers warm against his skin as she cupped his cheek in her palm. The simple touch sent a quiet ripple through him, a feeling he couldn’t quite name, but one that made him lean into her hand just slightly.

“I enjoy your eyes,” she murmured, her voice soft and intimate, almost as if she were sharing a secret. “They’re warm, inviting... even when you wear those goggles,” she added with a playful smile. “Which I admit have an endearing quality in their own regard,”

Her thumb moved gently across the skin below his eyes, tracing the contours with an almost reverent touch, as if memorizing him in this moment. Tech’s breath hitched slightly, her words settling into him, more meaningful than she probably realized. He could feel the warmth of her palm against his skin, the softness of her touch making the world feel a little quieter, a little more intimate.

He stayed silent for a moment, taking in the simplicity of the gesture, the warmth of her hand, and the sincerity in her words. "I did not realize you found something incredibly mundane as brown eyes to be endearing," he said, his voice quieter now, the quiet tension between them deepening. His gaze softened as he looked into her eyes, feeling a sense of connection that was more profound than he had expected.

Marina’s smile softened at his words, and for a brief moment, the world around them seemed to fade. The night, the quiet of the deck, the soft lapping of the water—it all seemed distant, as though it were just the two of them in that space, in that time.

“I do,” she replied, her voice a soft, almost reverent murmur, the kind that spoke of things not easily said aloud. A tender smile curved her lips, one that spoke of quiet affection, of knowing someone in a way few others did. She let her hand linger on his cheek, grounding herself in the simple warmth of his presence, as though this moment—this connection—was something precious, something she wanted to hold onto. Her thumb continued its slow, deliberate tracing beneath his eye, a motion so gentle it almost felt like a ritual. The sensation was soothing, rhythmic, almost hypnotic.

“Although,” she added, her tone taking on a light teasing quality, “I would argue against the phrasing of ‘mundane.’”

Tech raised an eyebrow, his gaze shifting slightly in surprise. “What do you mean?” he asked, the question laced with a quiet curiosity. To him, brown eyes had always seemed as ordinary as could be—part of the world’s predictable symmetry. Clones, after all, were filled with such little variation, their brown eyes as common as the stars above.

Her smile deepened, and she shifted ever so slightly, her fingers still tracing the contours of his face as though she were absorbing every detail of him. “Have you ever seen brown eyes in the sunlight?” she asked, her voice filled with an almost poetic reverence.

Tech blinked, caught off guard by the simplicity of the question, but something in the way she spoke made him pause. Her words hung in the air, almost as if they were weightier than they appeared. “Sunlight?” he repeated, furrowing his brow as he turned the thought over in his mind.

“Yes,” she said, her gaze soft and knowing, locking onto his with a quiet intensity. “In the light of the sun, brown eyes change. They warm, catch the glow. They seem to hold something in them, a depth you can’t quite put your finger on—like they’re full of secrets, or stories only the light can tell. They’re never quite the same, depending on the moment. Never mundane.”

Tech was quiet for a moment, processing her words. There was something in them, something he hadn't considered before. His mind raced through her explanation, seeing it with a fresh perspective. Maybe she was right. He hadn’t thought about brown eyes in that way before—hadn’t seen them as more than just the norm.

As he watched her, the gentle curve of her smile and the way her fingers still rested so tenderly against his skin, he felt a small pang of guilt stir within him. He had never meant to diminish the uniqueness she clearly saw in the simplest of things, and he certainly hadn’t meant to offend her.

He cleared his throat, his voice quieter now, a little softer than before. “I suppose... I may be wrong,” he admitted, a slight warmth creeping into his tone. “I never considered that there was more to it than just the color.” He shifted slightly, glancing down at her, and then back into her eyes, the weight of his next words sinking in. “And I suppose I shouldn’t have said something like that... considering,” he trailed off for a moment, his gaze momentarily flickering to her own brown eye, “well, considering one of your eyes is brown.”

Marina’s smile softened, and she gave a gentle, understanding nod, her fingers never leaving his skin. There was no judgment in her expression—just quiet acceptance, as though she understood the thought process that had led him to his words.

Tech found himself captivated by her touch, the way her fingers gilded so easily over his skin, as if she had always known how to read him, how to find the right places to make him feel both seen and understood. It was a feeling that was rare for him—this quiet comfort, this sense of being accepted without hesitation.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke, simply existing in the soft, shared silence. The quiet lapping of the waves seemed to mirror the steady rhythm of their breaths, the connection between them unspoken but undeniably present. Tech’s gaze never left her face, watching the way the moonlight played over her features, tracing the lines of her jaw, the curve of her lips.

“Sit up?” he asked softly, his voice low and gentle as he extended a hand toward her. She placed her hand in his, allowing him to guide her from her relaxed position on the deck into an upright sitting posture. Once she was settled, he kneeled behind her, his movements careful and deliberate as he reached for his goggles without a word.

Marina didn’t question him, her silence speaking volumes. There was a quiet trust between them, unspoken but undeniable, and in that moment, Tech felt the weight of it settle within him. It was something he hadn’t realized he needed, but now that it was there, it anchored him in a way that made everything else seem less complicated.

With deliberate care, he adjusted the strap of the goggles, making sure to position them gently over her eyes. His fingers moved with practiced precision, fastening the straps until the familiar equipment he wore so often was securely in place over her face.

For a moment, Marina didn’t speak, simply looking around at the slightly altered view the goggles provided. The moonlight caught the edges of the lenses, reflecting back a quiet, distorted version of the world around them. It was a view she hadn’t had before, and for Tech, it felt like a small, intimate gesture, something personal that he was sharing with her.

As he finished securing the goggles, Tech couldn’t help but pause, his gaze lingering on the sight before him. There was something deeply captivating about the way the familiar equipment, something so intrinsically tied to him, now rested against her face. The goggles, once a symbol of his identity, seemed to transform when worn by her—suddenly, they became something else, something more.

The lenses reflected the soft glow of the moonlight, casting an ethereal light around her, and in the way she studied the world through them, Tech found a deep, unexpected longing stir within him. The sight of her in his goggles struck him in a way he hadn’t anticipated, an almost surreal feeling, as if she had become a part of him in this quiet moment.

Her eyes, though obscured by the lenses, seemed to shine brighter somehow, and he was drawn to the way the goggles framed her face. Tech’s breath caught in his chest, and he found himself looking at her in a way he hadn’t before, as though every detail of her was amplified. The longing he had felt earlier returned, more intense now, sharper, as though it had found a new path to surge through him. There was a weight in his chest, an ache that pressed against him, making the space between them feel charged with something unspoken, something powerful.

He shifted slightly, trying to compose himself, but the sight of her in the goggles kept pulling him back, each passing second drawing him deeper into the moment. His hand, still hovering at her side, twitched with the urge to touch her again, to feel the warmth of her skin against his, to close the distance that seemed to stretch further with each passing breath.

It was as if the goggles had unlocked something within him, a feeling he had buried beneath layers of logic and control. And in that moment, as she sat before him, wearing a part of him so intimately, the longing felt nearly impossible to contain.

Tech couldn’t help the way he nearly pounced on her, turning her around and kissing her harshly. It was intoxicating the way she appeared. And she responded with an equal amount of excitement, happily moaning into his mouth at the contact. If he could stay in this moment forever—with the cool sea breeze on his bare skin, the beautiful glow of the moon light, and this gorgeous woman responding to every one of his touches—he would. 

The throbbing between his legs returned and in a brief moment of readjusting their positions, he felt her wet core brush against his length. Something within him screamed to just hurry along, that all the aching in his body he felt to finally be inside her warmth was coming to a precipice. Even before his mind could question the logistics of where and how - something she’d given him free reign over earlier in the evening - seemingly answered itself. 

Tech lifted her with ease, walking the pair of them over to the railing looking down at the water. Pushing her body against it, he resumed their ministrations as he began kissing down her neck. “I want you,” he hummed out, the statement of confirmation more to calm his racing heart than indulge information he knew that she already could tell. Marina was incredibly perceptive—she must understand how much he wanted to have her physically. 

“You have me,” she confirmed, reaching for his waist to pull him closer. Tech was in conflict with himself. He really wanted to simply bend her over the railing and go for it. Indulging her request earlier was less participatory, but something within him felt wrong about purely behaving in a physical manner. He knew these situations usually had a bonding component. To neglect it, felt shameful to him. Especially given the history of his limited sex life, with the insistence on romance being the forefront… 

Marina must have sensed the tension in him, the hesitation that lingered as he pulled her closer. Their noses brushed against one another, the closeness almost too intimate, but it felt right in that moment. She spoke softly, her voice low but firm, “Stop worrying so much, Tech. We agreed we’d figure this out as we went, didn’t we?”

Tech nodded, the weight of her words sinking in. She was right. They had made that promise to each other, to be open, to explore, to move forward together without overthinking every moment. He just couldn’t help his past history in the area clouding the present.

Her eyes locked with his, her expression steady yet filled with something deeper—something raw. "Then please," she continued, her tone softening yet still insistent, "stop holding yourself back. I can feel it, the desire that’s brimming just beneath the surface. Like you’re afraid of it."

He felt her words settle in him, stirring the emotions he’d kept carefully guarded.

“I don’t want your hesitation, Tech. I want you to show me what’s beneath all that restraint.” Her voice was warm, but there was an edge of challenge in it, urging him to break free from the self-imposed walls he’d built.

Tech’s chest tightened with an ache he hadn’t expected. He wanted to let go, wanted to give in, but the uncertainty still lingered, a quiet presence in the back of his mind. Marina seemed to sense it too, and her smile softened just before she spoke again.

“I assure you,” she said, her voice low, “if there’s something I don’t find pleasurable, I’ll stop you. But…” She paused, the smile on her lips turning sly, “I much prefer things on the rough side…”

Her words, so unapologetically honest, sent a wave of warmth through him, pulling him further into the moment. It was clear that she wasn’t afraid, that she trusted him to navigate this with her. And in that trust, he found the push he needed to finally let go of his hesitation.

Tech didn’t hesitate as he spun her around, forcing her to face the water over the guardrail. He didn’t hesitate as he reached around and shoved his fingers into her warmth, curling them almost instantly when he was met with the warm and wet of her womanhood. And he certainly didn’t hesitate as he leaned in close to her ear saying, “Do me a favor and look down at the water while I fuck you.” 

Tech felt the subtle shiver that passed through her as she nodded, her gaze drifting down to the waves. His hand moved with practiced ease, reaching up to turn the recording device back on. He knew she was aware of what he was doing—she had seen him use it more than once before—but when she didn’t question his intentions, he allowed himself to breathe a little easier.

“So good for me, darling…” he murmured softly, his fingers grazing the curve of her side in a gentle caress.

His eyes lingered on the scene before him, taking it all in with quiet appreciation. The dark, rolling waves moved steadily toward the shore, their rhythmic motion both calming and relentless. The faint lights of the island shimmered in the distance, barely visible from where she usually anchored her boat, a small speck of warmth against the vast, inky sky. Above them, the moon cast a soft, ethereal glow, and the stars scattered across the heavens like diamonds on black velvet.

And then, there was her—leaning forward, her back a delicate arc beneath the night’s embrace. The subtle lines of her body, illuminated by the soft light, drew his attention, every curve and contour a work of art he couldn’t help but admire.

In that moment, everything else seemed to fade away. The world, with all its noise and chaos, was silent, reduced to nothing more than the quiet beat of his heart and the beauty in front of him.

Checking one final time that she was prepared for the endeavor, despite her insistence on preferring things rough, he lined up with ease. Her positioning made it easier as once more he felt his tip nudging against her warmth. Only this time he didn’t hesitate, pushing in with a grunt. 

Tech could feel every inch of himself sliding inside, swallowing him whole. Unlike her mouth earlier, there was something more gratifying about that first push inside.

At the feeling of him doing as she requested, Tech felt Marina widen her stance slightly, taking him more easily as he slid in all the way, bottoming out as he paused for only a moment. When he knew that she was okay, he pushed forward, trapping her hips between his own and the railing before pulling back and slamming inside once more. 

The feeling of her body making way for his own, in such a raw and unrestrained manner struck a chord in him he didn’t know existed. Soon all his preconceived notions of what intimacy looked like flew out the window. It could be raw. It could be animalistic. And maker, did it feel so incredibly pleasing. 

Tech reached a hand out, pushing her down by the shoulder blade ever so slightly so that she was leaning over the railing more, his other hand firmly holding her hip as he continued to piston in and out of her body. He felt reassurance in the small gasps and whimpers leaving her as he did so and when he looked down to see just where he was entering he allowed his own noise to harmonize with hers. 

The smack of skin on skin seemingly drowned out the waves as Tech finally indulged his desire of bending her over and simply having his way. It made him feel charged in all the ways a man should. Desiring to see her face once more, his fingers tangled in her dark hair enough to yank her back up, lining up her back with his chest as he continued to move. “Is this rough enough for you?” he hissed in her ear, hoping that his desire to please was not overshadowed by the question all together. She shook her head and something satisfying within him grew. Marina was challenging him to keep pushing the boundaries. 

Who was he to deny her?

Pulling out and yanking her away from the railing, Tech thought for only a moment when he decided to try something he’d seen in pornographic material but hadn’t yet tried. Guiding her across the deck, his body still pressed close to hers, Tech’s fingers lingered on her skin, tracing gentle patterns as they moved. The rhythmic sound of their footsteps blended with the quiet night, until they reached the elevated flat part of the deck.

“On your knees,” he murmured softly in her ear, his voice taking on a soothing tone, as though offering reassurance. But beneath that veneer of care, there was an edge—something sharp and deliberate, a subtle hint of provocation that he hoped she would pick up on.

When she didn’t immediately comply, Tech’s hand moved to her shoulders, applying a gentle pressure until she began to lower herself onto the smooth wooden floor of the deck. He followed, positioning himself behind her, his breath warm against her ear as he leaned over her shoulder.

“Arch your back for me,” he requested, his voice still commanding, but with a softness that replaced the earlier sharpness. He wasn’t pushing—he was guiding, coaxing her into the position he wanted, sensing her willingness and the quiet trust she had yet to question.

“Wonderful,” Tech hummed, hands reaching out to caress her bottom as she turned her face to the side. He couldn’t see her eyes, as his goggles lacked peripheral vision, but he could see the slope of her nose and her parted lips. The reminder of his equipment being the only thing she was wearing was enough to make him return to that desperate need, so he pulled his hand back, smacking the skin as she gasped, all while he pushed his way back inside. 

This time, she was much warmer and wetter. He slipped inside with ease and felt no need to stop, driving in with more force as no longer holding her upright, provided him the opportunity to focus all his attention on their body’s connection. With each thrust he let out a grunt or hum of approval, appreciating her own accompanying whine. 

"Tell me how it feels," he called softly, his voice laced with quiet anticipation. When she didn’t respond right away, he reached forward, his hand finding her neck as he gently guided her face to rest against the space beside his own, his torso pressing down across her back.

"Marina," he murmured, his tone now firm with a hint of urgency. She nodded in response, her breath shallow as she leaned into him.

"It feels so good, Tech," she breathed, her voice barely above a whisper, the words slipping out in a rush of heat and desire.

He could feel the way she tightened around him, the muscles of her pelvic floor tightening and with the way she seemed entirely distracted by his body driving into his own, he knew that she was likely reaching that sweet impasse. “Are you going to cum for me? Like this? Spread out on the deck of your boat where anyone could look out and see you?” he sneered with a dark chuckle before continuing. “See you getting taken like this? My, my, Marina… what would they all think of you?” 

He didn’t expect a response and when she let out a particularly loud  yelp, he was reminded that there was a chance someone did see them, as he wrapped a hand around her open mouth speaking directly into the skin of her neck, “Let it out, I’ve got you,” before picking up the pace. His words, and his thrusting seemingly pushed her over the edge as he felt her clamp down one last time before he heard the muffled screams against his palm. Her body spasming under his hold until he slowed down, letting her slump to the deck. 

She looked utterly boneless as her breathing returned to normal. Tech didn’t want to push her, even if his own body was still craving release. Given the intensity her body had produced in the moment, which nearly sent him spiraling after her in a secondary release for the night, he was content to allow her to recuperate.  

What came as even more of a shock than the fact she was still wearing the goggles, the red light flashing, was the speed at which she pounced on him, pinning him below her on the deck as she reached down, lining him up expertly and sinking onto him once more. He had imagined she would need a moment, perhaps be content to end things with her own orgasm, but when she responded to his actions with her equal amount of vigor he wasn’t sure how to respond. 

Not only that, but he couldn’t recall ever having a woman pistoning herself on and off his cock like that from atop him. Her eyes found his own as he reached up and snatched his goggles off her face. Whatever animalistic energy had consumed her enough to climb atop him like this, was not something he wanted obstructed in the slightest. 

Her own release had turned their pleasant connection into one that was wet and raunchy in a way he could’ve only dreamt of. Tech could hear the squelching with each rise and fall as he reached up, holding her hips with bruising strength and matched her thrusts with his own. His lips babbled, as he could no longer contain the calm and cool demeanor he’d previously held. 

Oh Maker-

Just like that… 

Don’t stop. 

He felt those telltale signs of his own release returning. The sights, the sounds, hell even the smell of sex overwhelmed him in a way he hardly cared to stop. In fact, the realization things might be ending soon only pushed him to the brink more as he quickly yanked her down and pulled her beneath him. 

Marina’s back hit the deck as she gasped, but Tech didn’t stop. He just kept driving into her, panting as he went. She looked up just in time to see a bead of sweat rolling down near his temple and she decided he didn’t get to purely control the endeavor. 

Soon their precipice was paused only by the struggle to see who could quite literally finish on top. Every time Marina managed the upper hand, Tech would return her to the deck beneath him. The power struggle only egged his release on further.

Once more he fell beneath her, this time stopping their movement only slightly as he called out “where?” eyes crazed as he demanded very quickly to know where he should finish. She’d allowed him to fill her mouth earlier, but this time he had more warning, with enough time to ask. 

Marina didn’t respond, knowing he was simply asking as a precautionary, so fueled by the pull in his eyebrows and the panicked expression he wore, she smirked, clenching especially hard and snapping her hips to his own. Tech responded by grabbing her ass, pulling her closer as groaning out her name quite loudly as she felt ribbons of his cum shooting inside her. 

Tech pulled her closer, still pushing his hips up as the waves of his orgasm ebbed and flowed. His face was pressed firmly against the smooth warmth of her neck, his hands gently tracing the contours of her back. He felt her body slowly relax against his own, her tension ebbing as his breathing steadied, returning to its usual rhythm. As he opened his eyes and glanced up at the sky, a deep sense of bliss washed over him. He was familiar with the bonding chemistry that proximity could stir, but tonight, it felt even more profound.

The serenity of the night surrounded them, the world settling back into its peaceful stillness now that they had shared their connection.

“That was…” he began, his words trailing off as he noticed her shifting, propping herself up on his chest with a playful grin.

“I know,” she said, her smirk tugging at the corners of her lips, her eyes gleaming with a hint of mischief.

Her grin widened, and for a moment, there was a flicker of something mischievous in her eyes, a silent challenge hanging between them. Tech’s pulse quickened, and he instinctively pulled her a little closer, his hands finding their way to the curve of her waist. 

But as he met her gaze, the intensity of her expression softened, the tension easing for a fleeting moment. She lowered herself slowly, brushing her lips against his jaw with a gentle, teasing kiss before resting her head once again on his chest, her breath steadying in quiet contentment.

For a long moment, neither of them spoke. The night was peaceful again, the stars above them burning brightly in the sky. Tech’s thoughts raced, but he allowed himself to just be present, focusing on the feel of her in his arms, the subtle connection between them, and the quiet bliss that had once again settled in.

The peaceful silence stretched between them, but Marina’s fingers gently traced small circles on his chest, breaking the calm. She lifted her head, her gaze meeting his with an expression that seemed both soft and playful, her lips curling into a faint smile.

“You know…” she began, her voice a little lower, almost as if savoring the moment, “Fresher should have a full tank of hot water. I’m sure we could both use it, after all.” Her eyes sparkled with a mix of mischief and a quiet, inviting warmth.

Tech blinked, momentarily caught off guard by her suggestion, the peaceful haze of the night still clinging to his mind. But as her words sank in, the idea felt right—refreshing even. The warmth of a shower, the chance to share that space together after everything, sounded like the perfect ending to this quiet, intimate moment.

“True,” he replied, his voice soft, a hint of curiosity underlying his words as he gently ran his fingers through her hair. “I suppose it is my job to get you cleaned up given its my mess…”

She didn’t let him finish, already pulling away just slightly, her hand slipping into his as she guided him gently to his feet. The movement was natural, fluid, as if it was a simple thing between them, this unspoken trust that had formed without them even realizing it.

The soft click of the fresher door echoed in the quiet space as they entered, the warm steam already starting to rise from the shower, welcoming them. The faint scent of soap and clean water filled the air as Tech stepped forward, his eyes briefly meeting hers as he reached for the controls, adjusting the temperature to a comfortable warmth.

Marina stepped closer, her body brushing lightly against his as the warmth of the water enveloped them. Tech’s breath caught for just a moment as the heat soaked into his skin, but it was the soft feel of her proximity that left him grounded. The tension between them was gone now, replaced with something simpler—something that made the quiet moments even more meaningful.

As the water cascaded down over them, he allowed the silence to stretch for a few beats, savoring the sensation of the steam around them and the peaceful connection they shared. But it wasn’t long before his hands moved on their own. Without a word, Tech reached for the soap, his fingers grazing her arm gently as he guided her into the warm stream. The soft lather of soap on her skin was nothing like he’d imagined. It felt intimate in a way that went beyond physical, a quiet act of care he hadn’t expected to feel so deeply.

Her back was to him, but the feel of her body against his as he worked was enough to let him know how relaxed she was, how open she had become. Slowly, methodically, he worked to wash her shoulders, the curve of her back, his hands careful and deliberate. He didn’t need her to ask. Something in the softness of the moment—this shared space, the warmth of the water—made it feel natural. As his hands moved to her lower back, his fingers gentle as they traced down to her hips, he let out a breath he didn’t realize he’d been holding.

Her voice, soft and content, broke the quiet. “You know, you’re really good at this.”

Tech paused, a slight smile tugging at his lips, though she couldn’t see it. “It’s not inherently a skill you know,” he replied, the words coming out without thought. "But I admit I do seem to be finding pleasure in assisting"

Marina turned slightly to face him, her face flushed from the warmth of the water, her eyes meeting his with a smile that felt like a secret shared between them. “It feels… nice,” she said, the quiet sincerity in her voice making his chest tighten with an emotion he couldn’t quite place.

He nodded, the words unnecessary as he reached for the shampoo. Gently, he worked the lather into her hair, massaging her scalp with a tenderness that he had never expected to find in himself. The motions were slow, deliberate, calming—not because it was necessary, but because it felt right.

As the water continued to fall around them, Tech found himself lost in the simplicity of the moment—his hands, the warmth, the closeness—and felt a peacefulness he hadn’t known he craved. For a long while, they stood like that, neither of them rushing to finish. They weren’t just washing away the remnants of the night. They were building something quieter, something steady. In the warmth of the water, there was nothing to hide, no distractions, just the rhythm of their movements and the bond between them that was becoming something more. Something real.

Tech’s fingers, still slick with water, gently traced the lines of the tattoos on her arm, the inked designs feeling cool against his fingertips as they followed the intricate paths that marked her skin. His touch was soft, almost reverent, as he moved along the curves and edges of the tattoos, the designs familiar but somehow more intimate now that they were this close. The warm water cascaded over them, adding a sense of calm to the moment as he took his time, appreciating the detail in the art that adorned her.

"How much did they hurt?" Tech asked, his voice soft and curious as his eyes remained focused on the tattoos, tracing their shapes as if they held a story he was eager to understand. His touch lingered for a moment on a particular design, and he glanced up at her, his expression thoughtful.

Marina let out a light laugh, her gaze softening as she met his eyes. “Some more than others,” she replied with a shrug, her voice tinged with a hint of amusement. “But nothing too bad. It’s all worth it in the end. They’re a part of me, you know?”

Tech nodded, but there was still a curiosity in his eyes. “I’ve always wondered,” he murmured, brushing his fingers over the edges of one of the tattoos, “how much they really hurt. The process, the ink, all of it.”

Marina raised an eyebrow, a playful glint flickering in her gaze as she leaned slightly closer. “Are you thinking about getting one?” she asked, her voice teasing, but with an undercurrent of genuine interest.

Tech paused, considering her question for a moment. His eyes met hers, and there was something vulnerable in his gaze, something he didn’t often let others see. “Actually… I’ve been thinking about it for a while now. Since I first saw yours, to be honest,” he admitted, his voice quieter now, as if sharing a secret. “I’ve always felt like there was something… compelling about the idea. It’s more than just the art. There’s something about how it becomes a part of you. Something permanent, something you choose for yourself.”

Marina’s lips curled into a small, knowing smile. “You’re not just thinking about getting one. You’re contemplating the whole idea of it—the meaning behind it, aren’t you?”

Tech’s fingers gently moved over another tattoo on her skin, and he nodded. “Yeah. I suppose I am,” he said quietly. “I’ve never really been the type to make decisions lightly. But seeing you and the way your tattoos seem to fit you, it makes me wonder about what getting my own might say about me?”

Her expression softened as she met his gaze, the playfulness fading into something more sincere. “It’s not just about the art,” she said, her voice gentle but knowing. “It’s about what it represents. It’s something personal, something that stays with you. I get the feeling that if you got one, it would be something with meaning—something that’s all yours.”

Tech’s eyes drifted back to her tattoos, his fingers now resting on her arm, the light pressure of his touch grounding him in the moment. “I think you’re right,” he murmured, his voice low, thoughtful. “Maybe it’s time I made that choice. But I think, for now… I’ll just keep thinking about it.”

Marina smiled warmly, brushing her fingers through his damp hair, her touch soft and reassuring. “If you decide to go that route, I’ll be around to bounce ideas off of,” she said, her tone teasing again, but with a warmth that let him know she truly meant it.

Tech smiled back, a small but genuine smile that reached his eyes, and he nodded. “I’ll hold you to that,” he said, his voice filled with a quiet resolve.

For a moment, the world around them felt even more distant, and all that remained was the gentle sound of water flowing and the shared understanding between them. The night was still young, but in that moment, Tech felt something solidifying—an unspoken promise, a bond, and the quiet hope of something more.

And as the minutes passed, neither of them felt the need to rush forward, to make sense of anything too quickly. It was enough to simply be in this moment together, the weight of words lifting between them as they shared something neither had expected. The unexpected shift in their dynamic felt like the beginning of something new, a promising connection that needed no label or grand declaration—just the easy comfort of knowing that, whatever came next, it would be worth exploring.

Art by the lovely @leenathegreengirl as always!

[lupinestories]

Warming back up with some bender OCs :3c

[faemorningstar]

OC Week Day 3 Part 2: Relationships/Outfit Swap

Gender Affirming VS... Whatever the opposite of affirming is

No I know that Rosie doesn't normally wear a hat but she should, it would suit her

Marina belongs to me

Rosie belongs to @sapphicwizzro

Prompts by ocweek