#angst tech x reader

[verybadatwriting]

To Be Held

Summary: Reader is injured.

Warnings: Angst, blood, and wounds

Notes: Thank you so much @arctrooper69 for the request and @promptsbytaurie for the prompts! :D

Prompts:

“You did so good. Don’t worry, you-you did so good.”

“Hey, hey, shhhh. Shhhh. You’re okay.”

“I know, I know it hurts.” 

Gn!reader

Word count: 1,019

Tech often held you like this. Your head tucked against his neck and shoulder, his arms wrapped around you, holding your chest to his, you were safe. Sometimes the two of you were curled up on your bed, sometimes you were seated atop the Marauder, Tech quietly mumbling about the stars, but never before in a pool of your own blood. You tried to drift away in these good memories, let go of the pain.

A surge brought you back. Tech’s hand pushed against the wound on your upper back. The blood quickly seeped through his fingers.

“Aah.” You writhed at the pain. 

“I know,” He said, “I know it hurts. Just stay awake. Please.” 

“Did…” You started to ask. “Did we do it?”

“Yeah,” Tech said after a moment, amazed you could be thinking of the mission while bleeding out “You did it. You did such a good job.”

“Really?” You asked, a slight waver to your voice.

“Don’t worry, you–you did so good.”

“I-is anyone else… hurt?” You managed between shaking breaths. 

“No,” Tech held you tighter. “The rest of the Batch is fine. They’re on their way. They’ll be here soon. You’ll be okay…. You’ll be okay.”

“Oh,” You said, taking another deep, shaky breath. “It’s that bad?”

You leaned back, pushing away from him so you could see his face. His front was soaked with blood. Your blood. You looked up at his eyes, but they were focused on the horizon. 

“They’ll be here soon,” He repeated. He sounded like he was trying to reassure himself more than you. 

“Hey.” You said, reaching a hand up to his face and tilting it down to face you. Your bloody fingers left four lines on his cheek. He lifted his similarly bloody hand from your back and grasped your fingers. 

“We need to keep pressure on the wounds,” He said, “Or else… or else you’ll …”

You nodded, and allowed him to pull you closer. His chin was tucked on the crown of your head, your cheek pressed to his collar. Seeping into the ground was your blood. Too much of it. 

“Tech,” you started, surprised at how weak your voice sounded, “I love you.”

“Shh, no, no. Don’t talk that way.” He shook slightly as he soothed you. “Shhh. Shhh. You’re okay.”

“Please,” You pleaded, “Just say it back.”

A few moments passed. Tech seemed to be mulling it over, coming to terms with something. 

“I love you, too,” He eventually whispered, as if the words were so fragile that saying them too loudly would shatter them. 

Reassured after hearing that, your breathing changed. The slow shaky breaths became shallow, and too fast.

“I love you,” Tech continued. “And all the little inside jokes we have. And how you can always find a way to make Omega laugh. And how… how you listen when I ramble. And when you talk about the future and your eyes fill with life. And when you smile.”

When he said that you smiled weakly against his shirt. Listening to him, you almost didn't mind the cold numbness spreading from your fingers and toes. Or the pain in your torso. One again, you could be lost in his voice. 

Your body was slowly shutting down in a last ditch effort to save you. Your entire being went numb, every muscle and tendon relaxing. At least that meant your breathing finally slowed. Your eyes drifted closed. The coppery taste of blood faded, along with the burnt smell from the ash and rubble. 

“Hey?” Tech squeezed you tighter. “Stay with me. Please.”

As your hearing – your last lifeline to the world of the living – faded, you faintly heard the sound of the Marauder flying low. 

Then there was nothing but darkness and a dull ache that you couldn’t quite place. You felt it deep inside, like you had been gutted, and smoldering coals had replaced your insides. It was the deepest grief you’d ever felt. It started to fade away, but you heard a familiar voice.

“Stay with me. Please.”

Tech. You thought. I need to get back to Tech. 

Although it felt like your limbs were made of lead, and weighed down in tar, you fought. This dark abyss wasn’t it for you. Not yet. You tore yourself from the inescapable stillness, despite the coals burning from inside.

You had to see Tech again. Hug him. Hold him. Tell him it would be alright. Save him from the pain you’d seen in his eyes.

After what felt like a lifetime, you heard something. It was muffled voices, ones you recognized, which slowly became crisper. You smelled sterile medical supplies, and felt your chest rising up and falling down with each breath. 

Pain accompanied consciousness. You could stop fighting, slide back into the abyss, but that would mean never seeing Tech again, so you soldiered on. 

With one last push you flung your eyes open, and you were back. Breathing, living, hurting. You’d escaped from the void, and you were back in your body.

You turned your head, and saw Tech in the seat next to your bed. He hadn’t changed his clothes, as evidenced by your dried blood. You didn’t know if it would ever come out. He had a faraway look in his eyes. The same one he had while waiting for the rest of the Batch to come save you two.

You shifted slightly, and he snapped to attention at the sound.

“Cyare,” He whispered, reaching out to take your hand. “Welcome back.” 

His eyes scanned your face, as if he was trying to make sure you were real. You squeezed his hand to reassure him.

“I am,” You said, voice scratchy and weak. You cleared your throat, which triggered a sharp pain. You let out a small gasp.

“Are you okay?” Tech asked, his eyebrows furrowing together. You looked at the lines in his face, deepened by a lack of sleep and surplus of concern. Reaching one hand up, you cupped his face.

“I’m fine, love,” You smiled up at him, and he returned a weary smile.

[1-have-no-idea]

scared

character(s): Tech, reader, Omega, Hunter, Wrecker

genre: angst to comfort

overview: You didn’t think it could get worse after Wrecker’s chip activated. Little did you know that Tech was closely following, and after the events, you go to comfort him.

warning(s): violence, fear, reader gets punched and their head slammed into the ground, guns, all that stuff

1684 words

This was bad.

This was insanely bad.

You didn’t think things could go worse with how everything was playing out, but fate just seemed to prove you wrong again. Everything was going well before, everyone was just trying to see what was wrong with Wrecker, get his chip removed, it would all be fine. One moment, the large and gentle clone was sitting, the next, he was up and holding Tech by his throat.

‘Yer in direct violation of Order 66,’ going into a monologue before chucking Tech against the wall. And in that moment, you finally had a lick of what panic tasted like. You’ve been on missions, shot down droids and others, have been on the run, seen deaths and gore, but you were traveling with soldiers and working with them while a war raged in the background, you were used to it. But when it came to the safety of your close ones, your loved ones… that was a different story. All hell broke loose. You hastily shoved Omega in the opposite way, heart pounding against your ribcage as you ducked down to avoid being hit with another thing being hurled your way. “Omega, run!” you shouted, scrambling with her and guiding her to safety. The young girl was horrified and terrified, naturally so, and heeded your words, running the opposite way while you fell back into the room where carnage was unfolding.

Swerving past the fallen down tables and chairs, you fell to your knees and pressed yourself up against a flipped over table, seeing the blaster shots fire past you with bated breath, spotting Tech crumpled to the ground against the wall. No….

Your eyes flickered behind you to see Wrecker charging into another room with Hunter, both of them yelling and fumbling around and crashing into things while fighting. You hurried over to Tech, crouched down in front of him as you felt his pulse. He was still breathing, but knocked unconscious. Thank the Maker or whoever was out there hopefully looking out for you. You glanced over to where the volatile clone left, before back to Tech, debating on if you should stay with him or help fight off Wrecker with Hunter. Deciding to stay, you turned back to the male, gently shaking him. “Tech-?” you whispered. You shook him again, and when you got no response, you cursed under your breath before wrapping your arms around him, heaving him up with a soft grunt and dragging him out of the medical room. You looked side to side in the hallway before carrying him into another room. You sat him down, deciding to leave him here where he was safe so you could help the others, but as you stood up to leave, a hand shot out to grab your wrist. You looked back down to see a dazed Tech, squinting at you and breathing out your name in a strained tone.

“I know, I know,” you didn’t know. “you’ll be okay. Just stay here, I’m gonna help the others,” you explained, gently brushing his hand off you and moving towards the door. But as soon as you tapped the button to let it release you, a high pitched beep left it, making you tear your hand away and look at it in confusion. “Access denied. Request permission from Holder.” “What?” you breathed out, before slowly turning around as you heard shuffling behind you. Tech slowly stood up, datapad in hand before he returned it back to the space in his belt, staggering before straightening up. “Tech?” you called out questioningly, horror slowly washing over you as you recognized what was happening. He groaned, face scrunching up in pain as he gritted his teeth, eyes squeezed shut.

Ba-dump. Ba-dump.

Then, he opened his eyes, blinking rapidly, before spotting you once again. All was still for a moment. Before his eyes narrowed behind his goggles and he reached for his blaster. “Traitor–” “Tech- no!”

BANG!

The first shot rang out and had you throwing yourself to the floor, a cry of fear leaving you before you narrowed your eyes at him, hunching over and lunging for him, grabbing him and tackling him into the floor where you tried to wrestle the gun from him. “Tech- stop- stop, please!” you begged, trying to pull the blaster for him but he only bucked writed underneath you, dexterous hands wrapping around your wrists and trying to pry your hands off the blaster. “Snap out of it- I–” finally you tore the weapon from his hands, aiming for the access keypad and shooting it. The door slid open with a fshh, but before you could get up and flee, the clone reared back his arm and-

Crack!

The world went sideways and you fell onto the floor beside him, body half on him as your eyes fluttered, a whimper of pain leaving you as you felt the swelling start up on your temple, before the man fisted your hair and shoved your face against the cool metal of the ground. You struggled weakly and he only raised you up by your head and slammed your head back against the ground with a sickening thud.

And the last thing you saw was the others running to the door and the muffled sounds of a blaster being pulled out and a shot ringing out and struggle happening around you before it all went black.

——————————————————————————————————————————————————————

There was a faint whirring sound you heard as you slowly woke up. The whirring of the ship, you reckoned. It was just the faint creaks and noises of it settling.

Your head ached, and there was a dull throbbing in it, and you groaned softly. Your eyes cracked open, and you were met with the sight of the bunk on top of yours. You sat there for a moment, before slowly sitting up, bringing a hand up to cradle your head. The blanket draped around you slipped down to your waist, pooling there. Lula sunk more against your side, and you gently picked the doll up and smiled gently at it. Good to know Wrecker was okay now.

And that reminded you. Tech. Sucking in a breath, you swung your legs off the bunk and stood up quickly, only to stumble and lean heavily against the wall, hissing through your teeth. Then you registered the warm weight upon your shoulder, and someone helping you straighten up.

“Hey, hey, easy now. You should still be resting,” Hunter’s low tone rang out, the sergeant eyeing you with concern. You nodded, swallowing dryly and offering him a wry smile. “Thank you, Hunter, but I… is Tech..?” you trailed off, implication silent as you shifted nervously on your feet. Sensing your dread, Hunter shook his head. “Tech’s okay now. But I don’t think–” “Can I see him now?” Hunter grimaced slightly at your question, brows slightly furrowing. “...I think he wants to be left alone, [name]. He feels really bad,” he tried to explain, but you cut him off. “Please.” You didn’t have to say anything more. The eldest brother only sighed and helped you out of the room, a securing arm around you to keep you upright as he brought you to the cockpit.

And there was Tech. Bandage on his temple and hands gripping the wheel as if that were the one thing grounding him. His jaw was clenched tight, and his knee was bouncing erratically, and his thumbs ran soothing circles over the controls. Slowly, Hunter let you go and you carefully approached the genius. “Tech?” You called out, and the clone tensed even more before setting the ship in autopilot and abruptly standing up. “I have some unfinished projects I need to tend to,” he excused hurriedly, but your hand reached out and brushed against his wrist to stop him. “Wait- wait, please. Are you okay?” You questioned, and Tech paused, brows furrowing and fingers curling in unsurely. “...my wellbeing is fine. Yours was the one that was compromised, [name], you need not to worry about mine,” he explained bluntly and you only shook your head softly. “Yeah, but… I just wanted to check.” You stated, and he hummed at you, shifting his gaze down awkwardly. You were silent for a couple of seconds, before you took a step closer to him, making a bold move and wrapping your hand around his forearm to keep him still as if he was trying to run away. “I’m not angry at you, Tech-” “You should be.” “-it was the chip.” You defended for him, and he shook his head.

“I was aware of what I was doing, I just could not stop myself. I should’ve tried harder, I surprisingly didn’t know that was going to happen–”

“Neither did Wrecker, and you’re not upset at him for that.”

That silenced him, and he went quiet. You sighed, before using your free hand and cupping his cheek. “Look at me,” you ordered softly. And this time he did. “I’m not mad at you, Tech. Just like how you’re not upset at Wrecker. It was scary in the moment, but I know that you truly would never want or try to hurt me like that. I know.” And that made the clone breathe out as if a weight had been released from his shoulders, leaning into your touch. Then, surprising you, his arms looped around your shoulders, pulling you to him and cradling your head to his chest, one hand on your upper back and the other holding the back of your head. He ducked his head down and pressed a lingering kiss to your hair, fingers carefully brushing through your hair. “...I was scared.” He admitted, a rare amount of vulnerability in his voice. Soft and quiet and fearful. “I thought I’d lost you.”

“You could never lose me, Tech. S’okay. We’re okay.” You comforted, nuzzling further into him and he breathed you in, holding you just a tad tighter.

Because that’s all that mattered. The two of you were okay and you were safe and in his arms. That’s all that mattered.

Tags:

@taina-eny

[webslinger-holland]

All Grown Up | Hunter from The Bad Batch

Summary: Many years after Tantiss and after having settled down in Pabu, Hunter struggles to watch his eldest to go off and join the rebellion. He returns home to the comfort of family awaiting him.

Warning: SPOILERS FROM SEASON 3 FINALE BELOW THE CUT, Omega refers to the reader as her mum (though not biological), mentions of old age, other children are briefly mentioned, slightly suggestive, and just good old fashioned tears

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader

Type: Oneshot

Word Count: 1.8k

The gleam of the  silvery moon pierced through the dark blue skyline. The cool summer breeze swept through the entirety of the island, caressing wooden chimes hanging outside homes. The crickets were out singing songs to each other. The warm yellow light twinkled in the homes of many who where still awake during the late hours of the night.

With one last look of the island, Omega began making her way across the sandy beaches. She listened to the sound of the waves crashing gently against the shoreline; her shoes leaving prints behind in the sand. A few light breezes swept the loose strands of hair out of her face. She made her way into the lower caves of the island.

Coming up over the rocks, Omega's gaze landed on the spot in which her ship was docked. She neared one of the many generators in the cave, kneeling down and flicking the switch on. The warm light that radiated from the generator brightened her face and signaled the other generators to illuminate the rest of the cave.

A low bark sounded near one of the other generators. She lifted her head and smiled to herself, knowing that it was Batcher calling out to her. She briefly spotted another figure looming and sitting beside the old lurca hound, causing her heart to clench slightly in her chest.

Slowly, Omega made her way over to the both of them. The gangplank of her ship opened to reveal Gonky waiting for her. She rounded the side of the rocks, coming up behind the two.

"Thought you could just sneak off?" Hunter questioned as he stared off towards the entrance of the cave. The corners of his lips tugged into a gentle smile. "Time hasn't dulled all my senses," Hunter reminded her.

She lowered herself to sit down right beside him, watching him carefully with a hint of nervousness behind her eyes. She didn't say anything at first, but she had a feeling he was about to give her one of his famous talks. Sure enough, Omega was right about that.

"Your mother would have woken up worried sick about you, wondering where you’d gone off to this time," Hunter stated. His eyes focused on his hands that where clasped together.

"This shouldn't be a surprise. I talked with mum about this a lot," Omega defended herself.

Her words pained him slightly. In the more recent years, Omega had found herself seeking the advice of her mother more often than him. It had a lot to do with her age; having questions about womanhood that her mother was more than willing to explain. If Omega had gone to Hunter, the conversation would have just turned more awkward than anything. And sometimes, she was afraid to ask him in fear that he'd shoot her down pointblank.

It wasn't a surprise because he had heard some of their conversations late at night when the others had gone to bed. He recalled one conversation that happened just last week. She'd said something along the lines of: "Mum? What were the Clone Wars like?" Her mother proceeded to tell her what it was like to be a field medic during the height of the war. That, despite all the bad things, Y/n had found her purpose in life and wanted to help the war cause by tending to soldiers on the field.

Hunter just really wished she hadn't said that because they wouldn't be here now if she had.

"The Rebellion needs pilots now more than ever," Omega told him. She always had that drive to help others; she was so much like her mother in that way. "I made my choice, Hunter. I want to do more."

"And we want to keep you safe," Hunter countered. He finally turned to look at her. The worry was so evident behind those beaming eyes.

His strong sense of overprotectiveness was starting to show. It almost reminded her of what he used to be like when she was much younger: how he never wanted her to go on missions and how he'd force her to stay behind on the ship. She appreciated his concern, but it wasn't needed now.

"You have, but I'm not a kid anymore." Omega weakly smiled at him. She placed her hand on her chest. "You don't have to worry about me."

He wasn't satisfied with this, slowly turning away once again. He lowered his gaze to stare down at the ground. She continued to watch his movements carefully, wondering what he was thinking about in that moment.

"You're our kid, Omega. You always will be," Hunter said plainly. She smiled at this.

"You’ve got your own kids to worry about now," Omega chuckled slightly. She thought about her three siblings, figuring that they'd be fast sleep in their beds right about now and dreaming about things far beyond this galaxy.

"And you all make me feel like an old man," Hunter huffed with a playful smile.

"Well, you kinda are." Omega teased him by bumping into his shoulder.

When he turned his head towards the light, Omega was able to see just how much time had changed his appearance. His beard had grown out and his hair was sprinkled with grey. She saw the crows feet that bunched around his eyes when he smiled.

He was frail too. He wasn't able to play with his kids as much since last summer when he injured his back. He just moved a little slower now and wasn't able to do any heavy work around the house. He couldn't even remember how long it had been since they settled on Pabu all those years ago.

Pabu was home. Omega had grown up here. His other kids were born on the island. His family and his life was here. He wanted nothing more than to keep it that way. But Omega was moving onto newer things.

"Hunter," Omega sighed. She scooted a little closer to him and placed a reassuring hand on his shoulder. "You've all fought enough. This...is my fight. I'm ready."

Slowly, Omega rose to stand to her feet. He watched her move away from him with so much worry and concern in his eyes. He now realized that she wasn't his little girl anymore. She was all grown up and ready to have adventures of her own.

"Yeah. I know you are," Hunter sighed to himself. His lips curved into a soft smile. He shook his head slightly. "But I'm not."

Now, Hunter stood to his feet in a slow manner. His strength wasn't like it used to be. She didn't hesitate to step forward and embrace him in a tight hug. He wrapped his arms around her, resting his chin against her shoulder. When they pulled away, Omega placed her hands on his shoulders. She sent him a warm encouraging smile.

"Say goodbye to the others for me," Omega requested. She didn't need to give names because he knew she was talking about her brothers, her siblings, and her mother. He gave a single nod of the head before gesturing towards her ship.

"Off you go," Hunter had finally let her go.

By the time Hunter had gotten home, he was little surprised to see one of the lights on from his view on the street. He climbed the steps of the porch, opening the door as quietly as possible so he didn't wake the kids. His gaze landed on the familiar figure sitting in one of the living room chairs. He closed the door behind him.

"Hey," Hunter called out softly. He took a few strides towards her, kneeling down beside the armchair. He gently grabbed her hand and brought it to his lips, kissing the back of it. "How come you're still awake?"

"I could ask you the same thing," Y/n scolded him slightly. There was a twinge of annoyance in the tone of her voice. "I wake up to an empty bed and a daughter missing."

"Ah, yes. About that..." Hunter's voice trailed off. He quickly avoided her gaze and wondered how he was going to break the news to his wife. But his silence gave it away.

"She's gone, isn't she?" Y/n said rather sorrowfully.

He nodded silently in response. He fought against the tears that gathered in the corners of his eyes, but the light from the lamp illuminated them perfectly. She went to cup his cheek and sent him a weak smile.

"It was bound to happen some day," Y/n tried to reason with him. She shook her head at the notion. "She couldn't stay your little girl forever."

"No," Hunter agreed. "She couldn't. She's all grown up now."

Ever so slowly, Hunter rose to his feet alongside her. He took her spot in the chair before gently guiding her down to sit in his lap. He went to drape her legs over his lap and have them hang over the side of the chair. She wrapped an arm around his neck and leaned down to rest her head against his shoulder. He cradled her gently in his grasp.

The two parent's gazes fell on the wall where each of their children's height had been marked over the years to show their growth. There were countless tallies and dates, including both of his brothers' and the lurca hound's. They studied each mark as a reminder of how much each of their kids had grown over the years.

But Hunter's sights were stuck on a rather faded mark on the wall. He remembered the day like it was only yesterday. He loved seeing how excited Omega was to have her height marked on the wall; how Omega tried to stand as tall as she could while he used a pencil to mark it. Then, seeing over the years, her tallies had grown until she was basically his height.

"They're all growing up so fast," Y/n said with a hint of sadness in her voice.

"Maybe it's our sign to have another one," Hunter joked. She sent him a warning glare so he pressed a little further. "Come on. The littlest ones about five years old now. We're due for another."

"I told you I am done having babies. We've had three; that's a good number," Y/n swiftly shut down the idea of having another little one. She could think of a million reasons why that wouldn't pan out great. "We're getting too old for this. And with your bad back..."

"I know. I know. You don't have to remind me," Hunter chuckled softly, just loving how flustered she had gotten while talking about having a kid again. He pressed a gentle kiss to her check to calm her nerves.

The two of them swayed slightly in the rocking chair, basking in each other's presence. Their eyes set on the wall. The house's memories over the years came flooding back to them. The children's laughter was an ever present sound that brought the purest form of joy.

Their eldest daughter was all grown up now and out of the house. They remembered every single memory they made with her over the course of the past couple years. She had drastically changed their lives, but all for the better. And they wouldn't change a single thing.

LITERALLY AM OBSESSED WITH THAT FINAL SCENE OF OMEGA AND HUNTER. HAD TO WRITE MY OWN VERSION AND I HOPE YOU LIKE IT.

[lqveharrington]

Behind the Scenes | V.

summary: Being Vox’s girlfriend requires some patience after twelve hour work days.

pairing: Vox x fem!reader

includes: Vox and Velvette bullying one another, VALENTINO BEING A MENACE, mentions of Angel’s job, drinking, fluff, yelling, Vox being a baby, cursing, implications of being a prostitute, suggestiveness, both of them being teases (that’s it, let me know if i missed any!)

a/n: i think writing hazbin fics is my stress outlet 😭

You were Vox’s. And Vox was yours. Every demon and sinner in Pride Ring knew due to Vox taking time out of his busy work day to shower you with compliments in every press interview or host show when you were brought up. Especially when Vox would be the first one to find you after you finished modeling for Velvette’s show, making sure the paparazzi had photos of him praising you with kisses and soft touches.

Of course, you reciprocated every moment… In the public eye. Behind the cameras and screens, Vox was very much loving. But he did work for almost twelve hours each day, which required patience from you whenever he came home to you in a sour mood.

“Do you need me for anything else, Vel?” You glance back at your phone as you pour red wine into your glass.

“No,” She scribbled down measurement adjustments for another model’s design, looking back up at her screen after hearing an electrical shock from your side of the phone. “But do tell your boy toy that you have a dress rehearsal early tomorrow morning, and that you have to be there on time.”

Vox wrapped his arm around your waist, glaring at the young overlord through your phone. “Fuck off, Velvette.”

You feel him resting his head against your shoulder as he presses soft kisses on your neck, your dead heart fluttering. “I’ll be there on time.”

“Good.” She rolled her eyes at your boyfriend’s actions before ending the call.

“What’s your damage today, handsome?” You ask before sipping on your drink, red lipstick staining the clear glass. You watch as he mutters something incoherent, static emitting from his hat. “Vox, talk to me.”

“That bitch Carmilla won’t meet up, and it’s been several days since our last update on Vox technology.” He sighs as he moves around you, his voice crackling with electricity. “Shareholders have been up my fucking ass all morning about it— Valentino keeps trying to get me to watch his stupid porn feels featuring Angel.”

He removes his suit jacket as he complains, walking toward the large living space including a minibar. Vox pulls at his tie and reaches for the whiskey underneath, “Now Velvette wants to be an ass and complain about me wanting to spend time with you—“

“My love,” You hand him a glass from the cabinets, letting your hand linger on his for a bit. “Vel’s my boss, and I’m her best model. She needs me for these rehearsals.”

“You’re really taking her side?” He tilts back his head and downs the drink in one go, pouring another.

You roll your eyes at his childish behavior, “I’m not taking sides, I’m pointing out a fact.” You sit on the stool by the bar, letting him slot himself between your legs. “If anything, I’m listening to you describing your day.”

“Mm.” He let one hand come down and rest on your hip, rubbing soft circles. “Tell me about your day.”

“Boring, tiring. Pretty much the same every day.” You grab his wrist to ensure he doesn’t go any lower or any higher. “According to your assistant, I do have a lot of things planned tomorrow. So that should be exhausting.”

Vox linked your hands together, “Sounds stressful.”

“Not as bad as yours every day.” You press a kiss on his palm. “I was gonna watch a movie while waiting for you, but now that you’re here—“ You shift your wine glass in your hand as he puts his own glass down, letting him trail his hands to your waist. “Want to join me?”

“Of course.” He presses a chaste kiss to your lips before trailing after you. “What movie are we watching?”

“Whatever the first thing I find.” You let Vox sit on the couch before doing the same, swinging your legs over his lap. “You need a new rotation on Voxflix, I’ve watched almost everything.”

“I’ll get on that.” He mumbled as he ran his hand up and down your leg, occasionally squeezing.

You hum and shift your gaze to the television, scrolling through the different movies. “How do we feel about—“

A ringtone filled the air, both of you freezing at the noise.

“Vox—“

“Give me a second.” He let you pull your legs away and pulled the ringing from his screen to his phone, camera-ready voice leaving his mouth.

You sigh but find a movie worth watching, pulling your knees up. Around halfway through, you decided that the movie was meretricious, heavily judging the poorly made movie more than the other ones you’ve watched. You typed your review on your phone, giving the movie two stars before—

“—THEN GET SOME LOW LIFE SINNER TO DO YOUR FUCKING JOB FOR YOU!” You heard Vox scream from the kitchen, making you wince for the poor soul on the other end. “AND IF YOU CAN’T HANDLE THE SHIT I GIVE YOU, JUST KNOW I HAVE YOUR FUCKING SOUL IN CONTRACT!”

You pause the movie and get up, taking slow steps to your hotheaded boyfriend. He shuffled across the kitchen, walking back and forth as his fans kicked on. His white shirt was unbuttoned and his sleeves were rolled up like he was going to commit a crime.

“YOU LITTLE PIECE OF—“

“Vox,” You come up from behind and wrap your arms around his chest, resting your head on his shoulder. “It’s outside of your work hours.”

“Fucking—“ He rubbed his temple as he heard the sinner go silent on the other line. Vox took one hand and laced it with yours, “You’re lucky my wife is generous you ungrateful fuck.” He ended the call before muttering more curses, turning you in his arms so you were facing his front.

You let your hands move up to his shoulders, massaging the heavy tension in them. “Am I your wife now? Is that what you’ve been telling those sinners?”

“Maybe.” He let out a loud groan from the sensation, fans still running. “The fucking bitch in accounting is—“

“You’re not working right now, stop.” You give him a pointed look. “I need you to relax.”

Vox wrapped his arms around your waist, walking you backward toward the living area once more. “God, I’m in love with you.”

“I love you too.” You chuckle as he peppers kisses on your face. You let out a noise of surprise when he pulls you into his lap, hands gripping his shoulders for support. “Vox!”

“Yes?” He pressed kisses to your exposed collarbone.

You sigh in content but grab the corners of his screen, giving him a cheeky grin. “Tomorrow, my love. Velvette will murder the both of us if I show up late with bruises.”

“I’ll pay her to let you have a day off tomorrow.” He slipped his hand up your shirt, sharp claws bringing chills to your skin.

“So now you’re paying to be with me?” You raise a brow, stifling a laugh when he stops all movements. “Am I some kind of—“

“Of course not! Do not finish that sentence.” He pushed you down on the couch, covering your mouth. “I didn’t mean it like that.”

You laugh at how protective he is over you from himself. “I know you didn’t mean it like that, I was kidding.”

Vox dropped his head down to your shoulder, “You’re such a tease.”

“I’m the best.” You squeeze his bicep. “But seriously, Vel will have our heads strung outside the tower.”

“Whatever.” He flipped you both over, letting you rest your head on his chest. “I’ll have you all to myself this weekend.”

You hum, pressing a kiss on the corner of his screen. “I’m sure you do, handsome.”

“My love, I will cancel all your plans this weekend if you tell me I can’t have you.” Vox traces his finger down your spine. “Don’t tell me you have any.”

“I don’t…” You turn your head as he runs his claws through your hair. You feel yourself warm as he wraps a blanket over the both of you, flicking the television to play with a snap of his fingers.

“What do we rate the movie today?” He played with the ends of your hair, face pulling a grimace at the movie’s corny script.

“Two stars.” You mumble as your gaze shifts to the television. As the television fades to black in an awkward transition, you see Vox staring at you rather than the screen. “What are you looking at, weirdo?”

“My beautiful girlfriend.” He squeezed your hip. “Who I love very much.”

You let a small laugh slip through your lips, grinning brightly at his words. “I love you very much too, weirdo.”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[zoeykallus]

Hello there!

Would you mind giving us something angsty? Like, Reader confesses her love to the batchers (and maybe Rex and Mayday?). They do feel the same, but they react in the wrong way somehow, so that reader gets hurt, but in the end there is something like a happy end? Like separate little short fics or one-shots.

I know that's probably a lot of work, so please don't feel pressured to do this.

Aloha! Yeah, I think I can do that 😊

The Bad Batch/ Mayday/Rex x Reader Prompts – Confessions

Part 1/7 - Tech

Warnnings: Love Confessions/Angst/Hurt/Comfort/Fluff

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

AC: I tried to tackle this one with the thought in mind that Tech is/might be in some autistic spectrum. Now please don't throw any stones at me, I have no real life experience on that subject, so I kinda wrote this one the way I feel Tech after almost three season.

You've had feelings for him for a while now. Your heart beats faster, you feel warm when he approaches you and your eyes meet. You could listen to him day and night, no matter what he talks about. You think a part of him knows this, must know it, because when he discovers something new and wants to tell someone about it, he usually comes to you automatically. Because you listen to him attentively, every time. Your feelings go beyond friendship, you long to be close to him, you miss him every second he's not around. But you know Tech is somehow different. Sometimes he's very forthcoming, seems to enjoy being around you, but other times, he's more distant, almost as if he's trying to keep you at arm's length, as if he can't handle your presence right now. You have no idea how exactly to assess this behavior, it often feels like a roller coaster ride. It's not always easy to deal with and adjust to. But you want to do the right thing, so you don't push him when you realize he's pulling away, even if it hurts.

But one day, you summon up all your courage. Tech and you are working on damage to the outer hull of the Marauder. Until just now, he was telling you about his idea to improve the alloy for the metal of the outer hull and how he plans to make certain modifications to the ship in the future. Now, however, there is a brief pause, and you continue to work in silence. Your gaze wanders thoughtfully from his helmet, which is resting on a toolbox behind him, back to him Your heart is pounding in your throat, your hands are even shaking a little as you decide to finally tell him, to tell him how you feel about him. "Tech?" His name comes over your lips, almost like a whisper. He heard you, though. Normally he would answer you and listen without looking up from his work, but something about the way you say his name catches his attention this time. He pauses, turns his head in your direction and looks at you, his eyes widening a little. "What's wrong?"

His gaze, those beautiful eyes, like dark brown amber. Your knees go weak. You try to hold his gaze, but every now and then, you blink and look to the side before looking at him again as you speak. "There's something I need to tell you" His brows move up questioningly. "Is it something important?" You hesitate for a second before saying, "I guess it's a matter of opinion. It's very important to me" Surprised, you watch as Tech puts down his tools and turns to you. "Then let me hear it," he says promptly. Now you have his undivided attention. Your stomach is tingling, your heart is doing wild tricks in your chest. Your mouth goes dry, and you hastily reach for the water bottle to take a few sips. As you put the bottle down, your hand trembles so much that you can barely put the bottle down properly. Tech doesn't miss this, of course, his brows draw together in concern, but he waits silently for you to tell him. "I have feelings for you," you suddenly say so quickly, with a look on your face as if you were ripping off a band-aid. Then you smile nervously, inwardly cursing at yourself.

He stands there, motionless, and looks at you. Occasionally he blinks. You don't know what you were expecting, but some kind of reaction would have been nice. You nervously hold your breath.

"Romantic?" he finally asks after what feels like an eternity.

You finally dare to breathe again. He sounds thoughtful, confused, maybe even overwhelmed, but you can't quite put your finger on it right now, your own thoughts and your heartbeat are so incredibly loud.

"Yes, Tech. You know, accelerated pulse when you're near me, tingly feeling in my stomach, the need to be close to you, to want to please you. Bittersweet nervousness..."

For a moment, he looks at you as if you have a rare disease that might be contagious, and your stomach tightens at the sight. You regret saying a single word. "I'm not sure how to deal with this," he says thoughtfully, averting his eyes, "I can't... process" You can't help but stare at him helplessly. You feel the blood drain from your face, and your whole body suddenly seems to become much heavier. You swallow and say in a helpless attempt to pretend everything is okay, "It's okay, Tech, we don't have to talk about it" You turn back to your work, avert your gaze, and you miss Tech's confused, questioning look as he asks, "Don't we have to? You said it's important to you" "No," you say and put the tool to work, "We don't have to, everything can just stay the way it was before" He looks at you silently for a while longer, lost in his thoughts, before resuming his work. _______ Over the next few days, you hardly speak a word, in fact you avoid him. You feel like an idiot, hurt and exposed. The thought that Tech knows about your feelings makes you feel like you're walking around naked and every one of his questioning, scrutinizing glances weighs heavily on you.

One evening, as you sit alone in the cockpit, you hear someone walk toward you, and by now you can already tell that Tech is approaching by the sound of his footsteps. You shrink into the co-pilot's seat and focus obsessively on the datapad in your hands. As he says your name, your shoulders shrink down, you try to make yourself even smaller, you don't look up as you answer, "Yes?" His voice sounds soft, but still in his very own matter-of-fact way, as he says, "A few days ago, when you told me about your feelings, you said we didn't have to talk about it and everything could be the same. But it's not. You're avoiding me, avoiding eye contact. I realized that my first reaction made you feel insecure, probably even gave you the wrong impression. I've come to the conclusion that nothing is the same as before and that there is a real need to talk about it" You sigh softly and ask, "Is there something on your mind?" Instead of answering, Tech leans down towards you. Surprised and a little startled, your eyes do wander in his direction. He kisses your cheek gently and chastely, then sits down in the pilot's seat.

Your fingers automatically move to the spot where his lips touched your cheek, leaving a soft, tingling sensation. You feel warm, but at the same time you are confused and can't help but stare at him questioningly. "After some time to process what I've heard, said and felt, I've realized that these feelings are apparently mutual. I hope that's not a problem" You blink several times and straighten up a little in your seat. A soft smile at the corners of your mouth. "That's not a problem, Tech, not at all" He nods, smiling. "Good, so we can explore this new territory together, right?" You resist the urge to fall around his neck, you know that Tech processes things differently, especially in the interpersonal sphere, that he takes longer and values physical contact very differently. You nod, your smile a little wider. "I'd love to, Tech," you say softly. Your heart almost leaps out of your chest with joy as he reaches for your hand, tentatively at first, but eventually with gentle determination. With a cautious smile, he says, "I hope you'll be patient with me" You laugh softly, gently, and beam at him as you reply, "I have all the time in the world for you, Tech"

[phant0msworld]

Wishing on a star

Hunter x Jedi|reader

Tags: implied romantic feelings, yearning, angst

Warnings:mentions of order 66

Hunter didn’t know what was going to happen to you now, you weren’t there with them on Kaller. You were somewhere else when oder 66 happened, and hunter hadn’t heard a word from you since. To say he was worried was an understatement, fleeing from the empire while you could be out there still was something that keeps him up most night. He doesn’t even want to think about what happened to you, or if you are even still alive. You are part of the family and everyone was worried, but to him it was worst. Cause to him you were much more, something he would never dare to say out loud.

Looking at the stars hunter could only hope you were also looking at them, and maybe even think about him.

They were currently on their way back to Sidd, omega was looking at something on hunters borrowed data pad, „Hey who is this“ asked Omega holding up the data pad with a group picture of the batch and a young Jedi in the center smiling, hunter was looking at them with a soft smile wich barley noticeable. Everyone went silent and looked at what omega was showing hunter lowered his gaze before turning around again. With a sigh Tech answered „That was our Jedi general, we don’t know what happened to them or if they are even alive still sadly.“ Omegas eyes widened and she looked shocked„Oh I didn’t know im so sorry, but there is a chance she is alive right ? I mean you said that you aren’t sure so there is still a possibility.“ She looked hopeful, and she saw that hunter was deeply affected by the picture. „Don’t get your hopes up kid.“ said Hunter with a sigh, but it was rather directed at him then omega.

[neon-junkie]

The Tower

Summary: Gasping for air, unsteady hands, blurred vision - Why did this have to occur during the midst of battle?

At least Tech knows how to help.

Word count: 1.7k

Pairing: Tech x GN!Reader. Can be read as platonic or romantic.

Tags: Panic attacks, Anxiety attacks, Angst, Comfort, Happy ending.

Notes: I've had maaaaany requests for some angsty comfort with Tech. About time I wrote it! Based on my favourite tarot card - The Tower.

When the tower begins to crumble, it's bound to fall.

Built on an uneasy foundation, it was only so long until your walls began to chip away, and with it, the rest of the structure started to collapse.

And whilst you are somewhat used to that sensation, you're not used to this out-of-place timing.

"We'll regroup at the Marauder," Hunter's voice comes through your comm, strapped to your wrist. Tech is the first to reply, mumbling a swift, "affirmative," before returning his full focus to his blasters. He is, as always, quick and precise with them, saving ammunition until he's certain that his shot will be a hit - a trait that he's picked up from one of his brothers.

One by one, the droids fall, and whilst this is child's play, you seem to be struggling.

There's a pain in your chest, a weight, gripping at your lungs and crushing them from the inside out. Your hands, often steady with your weapon, are jittering more and more as every moment passes. And your throat fails to relax, causing your breaths to become shorter, faster, until your head begins to spin from lack of oxygen.

Knowing that you need a moment - a brief moment to set your bearings straight - you duck behind a crate and press your back up against it, barely looking up to watch Tech finish off what's left of your opponents.

This brief moment blurs on for an eternity, and the more that time passes, the worse you become. Your knees come up to press against your chest, palms gripping onto your weapon, as if it's somehow going to steady you during this emotional ride. The sound of your name being called out to you fades from your ears, and a ringing takes its place.

That is, until a firm hand finds your shoulder, and you flinch.

"Oh," Tech sighs, his fingers flexing shut as he watches your eyes meet his. Reddened cheeks, wide pupils, tears threatening to spill from your waterline - something isn't right, but it doesn't take a genius like Tech to realise that.

Rather than placing his hand on you again, Tech speaks your name in a soft tone. "Are you alright?" he brings the important question to light, and from your silent response, he takes it that the answer is no.

Once more, Tech mutters your name, and he's extremely cautious as he gently wraps his hand around your bicep, attempting to offer you some form of stability. "Are you hurt?" Tech questions, and to his surprise, you manage to shake your head.

"Alright," Tech nods, calm and patient. He pauses, his eyes wandering over your form, analysing the state that you're in. By now, you're sobbing, but there's still a washed glisten of fear in your vision, as if you're staring down at your worst nightmare - an imaginary ghost that he cannot see.

Tech crouches down, positioning himself on one knee by your side. His thumb subconsciously begins to rub back and forth against your arm. "I think I understand what's happening," Tech comments. "Although, I do not know how to help. If I can be of any assistance, then please, inform me how."

Sniffles fill the air after you suck in a few deep breaths. "I don't know," your words merge into one, but Tech manages to make them out.

"We need to remove you from this environment," Tech decides, forming the first steps of his recovery mission. "May I take your hand?" he offers.

Tech's heart softens out as you slide your hand into his, allowing him to pull you up with ease. You're a jittering mess, that much is obvious as Tech wraps your arm around his, and begins guiding you out of this hellhole. Thank the Maker that your opponents are down, else that would only worsen things.

"Our safest place is the Marauder. Are you comfortable with me comming Hunter, and asking him to pick us up?"

You instantly nod, knowing that the Marauder brings you a feeling of warmth and security. "But I don't want the others to see me like this," you blurt out, and Tech simply nods his head with understanding.

"Of course," he confirms. "I will lead us onto the shuffle, and keep the others distracted whilst you retreat to your private quarters. I'll inform the others that you need assistance, but sway them from interfering. From there, I'll join you, and we will set our next steps to recovery."

Tech follows up his plan with a simple, "how does that sound?" and lets out a pleasant hum when you agree to it. From there, his plan begins springing into motion, and before you know it, the Marauder is coming into your line of sight with the cockpit door lowered.

As always, Wrecker is waiting at the doorway with his hand extended, always eager to help you on board, but Tech politely pushes past and begins muttering something under his breath. Through Wrecker's fully armoured form, you can tell that he's taken aback, but backs off unquestionably, allowing you to scurry past and disappear down the hallway.

The second that you reach your dorm, the downpour of your tears breaks out into a thunder, and you barely manage to shrug off your coat and shoes before curling up into your bunk.

It takes Tech exactly twenty-three seconds before he's entering your dorm without a knock, seeing as you consented to it beforehand. "Oh dear," he coos as he enters, and his hand hovers over the lock before questioning, "shall I lock it?"

"No, thank you," you shake your head at the same time, and with it, Tech eases off.

A tall glass of water is placed on your bedside table, almost overflowing with how close the water is reaching the rim. Tech takes a seat beside you, and a hand comes to rest on your forearm. To his surprise, you shrug it off, only to wrap your hands around his waist in a desperate attempt for comfort. Tech accepts you, cradling you against his chest, hushing you in a soft tone.

"Let it all out," Tech coos, comforting you as the tears continue to fall. His hands stroke and grasp at your back, attempting to provide as much comfort as he can. Tech is somewhat familiar with this subject, although it's been a long time since he's ever had to support it, and an even longer time since he has received such support.

Tech's last occurrence was back when he was a Cadet. One of his fellow brothers broke down into a state of panic, and Tech, being the sweetheart that he has always been, could only hug them as the moment passed. 

Since the war broke out, it's rare to find a moment for your emotions to overspill, seeing as everyone is always up on their feet - Troopers and Jedi alike. You’re no stranger to the sight of seeing men hunched over at the end of battle, their form exhausted, stress lines present on their skin, and a look of desperation in their eyes. Perhaps they have also noticed that in you. 

The hard form of Tech's chest armour lies pressed against your cheek, and only when your panicked state starts to relax, do you realise how uncomfortable the plastoid surface is. With an uncomfortable expression, you move your head away, gazing up at Tech with tear filled eyes.

"It appears my armour has left its mark," Tech comments, earning a soft laugh from you.

"Remind me to never cry into your armour again," you swat back. Your hand trails over the indent left on your cheek, and for whatever reason, that pulls you from your dark thoughts.

Warm eyes meet yours, still laced with concern, his brows raised accordingly. “I will bear it in mind, if the… incident ever occurs again.” 

“I hope it doesn’t,” you state with a sigh. The sides of your fists come up to rub your eyes, attempting to fresh the life up in them. “I’m sorry you had to see that,” you apologise, your hands now finding comfort in your lap, fingertips fidgeting with each other.

“Do not apologise,” Tech responds with sternness. “Please, I will never accept your apology for something like that.” 

You can’t help but let out a chuckle. “Message received,” you say with a smile. “Let’s just hope it doesn’t happen again.” 

“And if it does, you know I will always be here to assist you. I am… no stranger to what just happened,” Tech explains, his eyes drifting from yours as his shoulders soften. Now, you’re no longer the saddest person in the room. 

“Care to share?” you question. 

“Ah, well-” Tech waves his hands as his back straightens. “It is not my information to share, but I can inform you that I have seen this happen before. Multiple times, really. Being a Cadet was never easy…” 

Your hand comes to rest on his forearm, a gesture that is not left unnoticed. “I’m sorry,” is all you can sigh. 

“Did I not just inform you to never apologise for such things?” Tech responds in a firm tone, yet there’s a playful smile on his lips. You mimic his expression, soon letting out a laugh. Tech’s hand rests atop of yours, giving you a firm squeeze before suggesting, “shall we go and see the others? Wrecker especially looked awfully concerned about you.” 

“Yes,” you agree with a nod. “I wouldn’t want to keep any of them worrying. I’m alright now.” 

“That, you are,” Tech confirms. He rises to his feet, and offers you a hand. You accept it, steadying yourself on uneven legs, your muscles still relaxing after a storm of negativity. 

Before exiting your dorm, Tech lets out a soft, “do not forget your water,” as he holds the door open for you. A glass of water in hand, and you head out to regroup with your squad, your friend close behind, always ready to have your back - if you ever need it.

[masterjedilenawrites]

Take Me Out

Bad Batch x Reader Exchange 2024

Crosshair x fem!reader | 4.7k words

Content: drinking, light angst, introspection, fluff, light humor, crushes, relationships, friendship, mentions of war and death, weapons (practice setting)

Prompts: "What am I even looking for?" - "I don't know" & "Sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

My gift is for the event host - @ghostofskywalker! I was so excited to draw your name and I really hope you enjoy the fic. You put so much work and care into hosting these events for the fandom, it really is appreciated 🤗

I've actually had this story concept in mind for quite a while. I love that pretty much all of your prompts/wish-list items were able to fit in! We've got some platonic Hunter, romantic Crosshair, a little angst, a bit of fluff... Perfect!

Oh, and to keep things spoiler free (on my blog and for the event), this takes place before Order 66 and Omega.

Please go check out the @cloneficgiftexchange blog for all the other contributions to this great event! Fics are being posted all throughout today (4/13/24). Spread the love for fandom writers/creators by reblogging!

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Winter.

You sat slumped over the bar, a drink cradled in your arms. You took lazy sips at the liquid, long past its effervescence, in between chewing on the straw. You could smell the evidence of your waning hygiene, being curled in on yourself like this. It disgusted you but not enough to do anything beyond self loathing. To say you were miserable was an understatement.

"Morning, Captain. A bit early for a drink, isn't it?"

The husky voice of the bar's newcomer was unmistakeable in who it belonged to. There were clones abound on this small moon, hundreds of identical-sounding men. But every once in a while you had the pleasure of hearing the one that was different.

You sluggishly swiveled your head and gave Sergeant Hunter a mock salute. He leaned against the bar beside you, seemingly torn between being amused and concerned by what he was seeing.

"Back so soon?" you asked, ignoring his own question. Though your speech wasn't slurred, your voice still betrayed some of the numbness you were working to surround yourself in. Which helped your friend make up his mind on how to feel.

"Easy mission," Hunter shrugged off the topic. "You okay? Did something happen?"

"No," you sighed and forced yourself to sit upright. Best to appear more in control and not give him reason to drag you to the med bay. "That's the problem. Nothing's happened."

Hunter frowned and slid onto the barstool next to you. You caught a whiff of soap as he did, a harsh contrast to your own odor that made you even more upset.

"I don't understand."

Your hands cupped around your glass, condensation pooling around your fingers, and you stared at the melting ice wishing to be as frozen and unfeeling.

"I don't understand, either," you whispered. "Why I'm still so... alone."

"Ah." Hunter placed a sympathetic hand on your shoulder. "That's right, you had that date you were going on. Another dud, then?"

You nodded, still refusing to look away from the ice cubes.

He hummed in thought. Your poor friend. How many times had he now had to come up with some sort of reassuring comment after another one of your failed attempts to find love? At least you were grateful you had such a friend, though. Where others would have made you feel guilty for admitting to loneliness, would have insisted they were company enough and all you had to do was ask for it, it's as simple as that, how dare you feel lonely when you aren't actually alone... Hunter was the one who always saw through to what you really meant. You were not what the other wanted, but you were both wanting, craving that kind of deep, romantic connection that seemed to allude you both. For Hunter, it was obviously his schedule that got in his way. For you... well, that was the mystery.

"You have to keep looking," was the sentiment Hunter settled on this time. He rubbed at your shoulder a bit, as if trying to smooth out your misery.

You huffed. His attempts to comfort were sweet, but not enough. You couldn't help but protest. "But with everyone I meet, I just find out what I don't want. What am I even looking for?"

"I don't know," Hunter shook his head sadly. "I don't know if anyone knows until they find it."

You groaned and slumped back forward, facepalming the bar top and wishing you could sink right into it. Sink down, down, down until you disappeared completely.

"Sorry, Cap," Hunter's now muffled voice attempted to chuckle, lighten the mood. "If I could track down your soul mate, I would. You know I would."

That comment was sweet enough. You forced yourself to stop sinking, lift yourself up again, and face your friend properly.

"I know. And I appreciate that. I'm sorry, I didn't mean to be such a bummer today. It's just... it's been getting harder, is all."

He nodded and you nodded back and nothing further needed to be understood on the matter.

"Were you needing something from me?" you changed the subject. "Or did you come to day drink as well?"

"Ha, ha." Hunter started to get up. "Yeah no, I just wanted to let you know we were back for a few rotations, see if you'd have some time to finally come out and meet the boys."

You lifted up your glass and shook it a bit. "You're too late, I'm afraid. If I'd known you'd be back so soon, I wouldn't have started on this journey of self destruction."

Hunter titled his head at you, some of that trademark concern still showing. "This isn't going to be an all week thing, is it?"

You shrugged. Truthfully, you had no idea what to do with yourself. Making decisions even a day in advance seemed like too big of a commitment in your fragile state.

"I'd rather not meet any more new people right now, if it's all the same to you."

"I wouldn't consider them new. You've heard enough stories about each other by now. It's starting to get weird that you're not meeting, quite frankly."

You wanted to laugh, but the thought of introductions, stiff pleasantries, awkward small talk... It reminded you of every first date that never turned into a second, every dating app chat thread that went nowhere, every high hope you watched turn into disappointment. Even with a group like Hunter's brothers, the Bad Batch, with a reputation of being unconventional, who you'd only be making friends with just like you had with Hunter and every other clone on this moon... it was still too much for you to stomach.

"Sorry, maybe next time."

Hunter frowned, but he didn't overstep. "Suit yourself. Door's still open though. You know where to find us."

He made to walk out but paused to turn back to you for a moment.

"And hey, don't lose hope. We'll find our people soon enough. In the meantime, take care of yourself, alright?"

You waited until the bar doors closed behind him to let your tears fall.

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Spring.

You were here. Finally.

You weren't able to pinpoint exactly where the turning point occurred, between crying yourself to sleep every night and being able to wake up with a smile on your face. A small one, of course, but a smile nonetheless. You weren't even sure it was something that had happened overnight. Slowly, eventually, the frost over your heart melted, the shadows in your thoughts grew thinner and lighter. Without even realizing you were drawing back the curtains and dusting off the shelves and each day being a little more open than you were the day before.

Your loneliness still existed. It came and went in waves, so while still devastating at times, you were at least afforded with periods of relief. Periods where you could smile again, find fulfillment in your work, and even dare to allow yourself to dream again. And not to mention taking more regular showers. It was always the little things that made the biggest difference, wasn't it?

And now here you were, standing in the early morning sun out in one of the training fields, the Havoc Marauder silhouetted against the sunrise as you shook hands with its crew in a meeting long overdue.

Hunter's stories had done the boys justice. Wrecker was just as larger than life as you'd pictured, aptly choosing to push past your outstretched hand and go in for a bone-crushing hug instead. Tech, who you'd come to know as the brains of the batch, only spared a second to be properly introduced before returning to fidget with some gadget. Echo was all politeness and disciplined respect, with his scomp-salute and ma'ams. And Crosshair... well, he was still on the ship asleep, which you supposed fit with the few facts you knew about him, too.

Hunter beamed beside them, clearly happy you had finally made the effort to meet his squad. His family, really. As a Captain overseeing drill training for the GAR, you knew better than anyone the close bonds these clones formed even before they stepped foot on a battlefield. This meant a lot to him, you being here. You felt awful for postponing so many times.

Once introductions were out of the way, and some pleasant conversation had passed, you eventually ventured out to the part of the training field that actually housed elements for training - your excuse for coming out here to meet everyone. A munitions crate full of shiny new blasters was carried between you and Wrecker while Hunter ran ahead to set up some targets. Tech and Echo went back to the ship to work on repairs.

"Aaaaugh. Only blasters?" Wrecker lamented upon opening the crate.

"Sorry, more budget cuts. This was all I could scrounge up for you guys."

Hunter was much more excited by the new weapons, though Wrecker still picked one up to try out. You held one as well but only used it to demonstrate different techniques. Just because you were good at training didn't mean you were the best at actually fighting.

The three of you picked off the various bottles, pots, and pans that Hunter had set up amongst the tree branches at the edge of the field for a short while. And on more than one occasion you found yourself pausing to breathe in the air and remind yourself that life was good. Maybe not how you wanted it, but it was still good and you'd need to continue to work on appreciating what you had.

After about an hour, there were only three bottles and a pan left, all proving tricky targets due to distance and angle. Hunter had even tried slinging a few knives to no avail.

"Okay I'm calling it," Wrecker announced with a huff. "One more missed shot and I'm blowing them up."

"I'll take that bet."

A new voice, one you'd never heard before, carried across the field. It was delicate and drawling and confident. Hunter chuckled and Wrecker rolled his eyes. And you... you had no idea that everything was about to change.

It was like he was moving in slow motion. Your surroundings blurred as the lanky figure caught the corner of your eye, your heart rate slowing as you turned and took him in. One confident step planted firmly in front of the other as he inched across the field. A sniper rifle perched on his shoulder. A toothpick between pursed lips. An eye surrounded by a reticle and narrowed in determination. He didn't even spare you a glance, and thank the gods, because if he had, you were sure your heart would've stopped beating altogether.

He squared off as soon as he reached the marks, bringing his rile forward to aim in a swift and careful motion. His head rested against the shaft, his tattooed eye squinted through the scope. You imagined him taking this stance a thousand times in his short life. It looked as natural a position as curling up on a couch might look for you.

You couldn't look away, not wanting to miss a single second of whatever this mesmerizing man was about to do. He was still for a moment, impressively so. You realized you were holding your breath as you watched, not wanting even your exhale to interfere with his process.

And then he fired. Once, twice, threefourfive times. Bang, bang, bang. Each in a different direction but no less precise than the one before. The first ricocheted off the pan and hit the green bottle, just as the second hit the red bottle. The three-shot volley was aimed at the branch the bottles sat on, causing it to crack and dangle even closer to the ground. And just when you thought the show couldn't be more over the top, the sniper swiveled his rifle toward the sky at a passing bird, clipped its wing with a shot, and then whipped out a pistol from his hip and fired at the remaining blue bottle just before the branch snapped and fell to the ground.

A few seconds later, the bird tumbled on top of the pile of shattered glass and splintered wood.

"Aaaand training is now over," said Hunter with a nod of his head. He raised his voice as he called out to his brother. "You'd better clean that shit up!"

The sniper flipped him the bird before sauntering off to clean up.

"Uh, you alright?"

Hunter paused in his own packing of gear to give you a concerned look. You were still staring after the newcomer, undoubtedly the lone Batcher you had yet to meet. Crosshair. Your brain had short-circuited with what you had witnessed him do, yes. But it was more than that. There was something about him. Something intriguing and attractive. Different than anyone you had ever known, and yet, somehow feeling so real and comfortable at the same time.

After a few waves of your friend's hand in your face, you snapped back.

"That," you breathed.

Hunter cocked a confused eyebrow.

"That is what I'm looking for."

* * *

Vandor-3. Clone training facility: recreation sector. Summer.

You were insanely busy. Separatist activity was ramping up in almost every corner of the galaxy and the GAR was responding to each new threat with full force. Rotations of new clone units were frequently arriving at the facility, one after another. You'd cycle them through a few trainings to get them certified on whatever was needed and then ship them right back out. And in between were all the additional tasks that needed to be taken care of. Piles of paperwork and coordinating schedules and ship inspections and updated security debriefings.

And yet through it all, you still had time to entertain the one thought that buzzed in the background of your mind: Crosshair. Every meeting, every meal, every training sim, first thing in the morning and last thing at night. He was there. Crosshair, Crosshair, Crosshair. On your mind, in your heart, driving you absolutely mad.

In the beginning you'd pretended it wasn't about him, specifically. You were simply happy to know what you wanted now, that you had a type and it existed. That was all. Hunter had turned up his nose, completely bewildered as to why that would be your type. You hadn't been able to give him much at the time; it would take you many rotations more to start describing the details of your newly discovered attraction.

But over time, it became harder to push aside the nagging thought that you hadn't found what you were looking for, but rather who. Specifically. Exactly. Why try to find someone like him when you already liked... him?

Oh there were plenty of ways you could answer that question, all of them self-deprecating and none of them productive. You could count on one hand now the number of times you had been in the same room as him, let alone interacted with him. The Batch may be frequenting the place more often as the war picked up, but not nearly as often as you needed to gauge whether someone like Crosshair would, could, or honestly even should be as interested in you as you were in him.

Today they were back on the grounds so Hunter could fill out some paperwork, and your heart had not stopped racing all morning. It was practically threatening to punch right out of your chest and run away. You weren't sure why, considering you'd probably only end up seeing Hunter this time. The rest of the Batch usually didn't venture into the facility unless they were staying overnight. But it seemed even knowing Crosshair was on the same planet as you got you worked up these days.

You carried Hunter's stack of paperwork with you now, intending to drop it off to him in between some meetings you had. As you hustled down the halls, you rehearsed a few ways you could subtly ask him how Crosshair was doing.

But as it turned out, you would have the opportunity to ask him yourself. If you could get over your frazzled shock at finding him in the rec room instead of Hunter.

The room was conveniently empty, making the silence between you that much more potent. Crosshair was standing awkwardly to the side, just behind one of the battered sofas, as if he had already been confused about what he should be doing before you pushed through the door. He stared at you and you stared at him and the moment only lasted for a few seconds but it felt like an eternity.

"Oh, um. Hi. Crosshair." You averted your gaze, despite having prayed the past several nights that you could see his face again soon. "I was... expecting Hunter."

That didn't sound right. You hoped he didn't take that to mean that you'd prefer if Hunter was here now. Obviously you didn't.

"He stepped out," Crosshair responded in that cool, even tone of his. Your eyes couldn't help but snap back to his as he talked. You wanted him to say more but he never did.

"Oh, okay. I just had some paperwork to give him."

Crosshair only hummed at first. You shuffled your feet a bit, debating whether you should make an attempt at small talk, try to coax more out of him, maybe even hint that you were interested in him. The thought terrified you, but not as much as the thought of being alone. You couldn't complain about that if you continued to let these opportunities pass by without at least trying to make a connection.

You shifted your weight again, intending to keep your feet planted so you wouldn't make a run for it, and Crosshair uttered your name hurriedly.

"Wait," he said. He'd thought you were leaving. You widened your eyes at him, waiting to hear what he'd wanted to tell you first. He seemed to hesitate before finally saying, "I was wondering if you knew what soup they were serving today?"

"Oh. Uh, potato, I think."

"How boring."

You smirked. "I know, right? They could at least serve it with some hot sauce."

Crosshair hummed.

The silence settled back in, though now you felt better about things. You'd practically had a conversation. Learned a little more about each other. It was a good start. 

Your commlink suddenly beeped at your side and you blanched, remembering the meeting you were supposed to be heading to.

"I uh, I've got to go. It was nice talking to you."

It pained you to cut off your moment with him so quickly, but alas you were left with no choice. You shuffled back out into the corridor, though you only made it a few steps before realizing you still had Hunter's paperwork and could just leave it with Crosshair.

The rec room had an old school door that swung in and out on hinges. It was slightly ajar from when you passed through, and already in the few seconds since something was happening on the other side of it. You could hear more voices.

"...the kriff was that?" First, the deep tones of Hunter, equal parts annoyed and weary.

"That wasn't the plan." Then, the resolute voice of Echo, backing him up.

"What?" Crosshair bit back at them.

"You were supposed to ask her out," Hunter clarified.

"No, that was not the plan," Crosshair countered. "I needed to lay some groundwork first."

"You call that groundwork? You were talking about soup."

"And she agreed. No one ever agrees with me on the soup around here."

"What a special connection," Echo said.

Hunter sighed so hard you swore you could feel the breeze through the doorway. "You know, sometimes I think some work on your communication skills wouldn't be such a bad idea."

"What?"

"Never mind. Do what you like. Keep pushing away anyone who tries to love you and see where that gets you. Just know that it's exhausting, watching the two of you dance around each other like this."

"And kind of pathetic," added Echo.

You were against the wall by the door, holding in your breath for so long you were about to pass out. Or maybe it was the euphoria of knowing Crosshair was interested that made your head sway. Regardless, you had mere moments to make a move or let the opportunity pass. You dug into your pocket, fished out a pen, and scribbled a note on the top page of paperwork. Was it professional? Absolutely not. But the GAR would get over it. You left the papers by the door, making sure your note was turned to face it.

There's better soups on Coruscant. Let's go out sometime.

* * *

Vandor-3. Woodland outskirts. Autumn.

You were alone, standing in the middle of the training field, the early setting sun behind you casting a dim shadow across the remains of your latest training exercise. A chill was just starting to set in, causing you to tug at your jacket and pull it around you a bit tighter. You liked these moments, rare as they were recently. A quiet time to yourself. Not even to think, but simply to be. Present and comfortable. And you.

The wind picked up and sang through the taller blades of grass as a ship approached for landing. Your moment was over, but a new happiness settled in its place. Minutes later, the Havoc Marauder was opening its hatch and spitting out its soldiers.

"Captain," Hunter gave you a two-finger salute as he passed by.

"Sergeant," you returned with a smile.

Echo was close behind, giving you a respectful nod. Wrecker hauled a munitions crate in one hand and hit you up for a high five with the other. Tech was oblivious as he hunched over a data pad.

They filed by, one after the other, headed straight for the barracks, and what you hoped were the showers. They all knew not to linger, that you'd catch up with them later. This was your time with Crosshair.

The sniper was leaning up against the hatch opening, arms folded across a plastoid chest and a toothpick lazily perched between slightly curled lips. He took you in for a moment and you could feel yourself glowing in response to his soft gaze.

"Showing those clankers who's boss, I see," he said as he made his way down the gangway. He nodded his head toward the mess of scrap metal behind you.

You gave a half shrug. "My reaction time is getting better, but I still can't get the angles right with those pucks."

Crosshair inched up to you, gently resting his hands on either side of your waist. "Have you been doing the breathing exercises like I showed you?"

You nodded. Your hands instinctually came up to his run along his arms until they found the crook of his elbows, the only place not barring your touch by armor.

"And using the laser sight?"

You nodded a little slower and Crosshair tsked.

"I want to be good without it. Like you." You added a little extra honey to your words so he wouldn't reprimand you too much. It had been an adjustment for the two of you at first, he stepping into a training role and you stepping back to receive instruction for once. Thankfully the frustrations seemed to diminish the more your relationship progressed.

"You have to be patient," he said, giving your waist a slight squeeze to accentuate his point. "You aren't like the regs you train. You're building your skills, taking care of yourself."

You hummed, more in thought than agreement. "Will I ever have to use these skills someday, do you think? Is it really getting that bad out there?"

You tried not to think about how many soldiers you had trained only to be sent to a battlefield to die. How many of the shinies you were drilling right now would likely be killed soon. How many more would be brought in to take their place. You'd thought you'd known what you were getting yourself into with this job. But the relentless cycle of it all was getting to you more and more, especially as the Republic continued to be challenged in larger scales and higher stakes. It never seemed to end.

"It's hard to say," Crosshair responded. "We have to prepare for the worst."

You hated that answer, but you wouldn't let him see it. Not yet. Your fears and your displeasures, anger and sorrow, were things yet to be fully explored in this new relationship. All in due time. So you simply smiled, plucked the toothpick out of his mouth and tossed it aside. 

"And hope for the best, right?"

He smiled back, or at least moved his mouth in the direction of a smile, as much as you could usually get from the reserved man. "Yes, of course."

He leaned forward and rested his forehead against yours. You both closed your eyes and breathed each other in. There was warmth in his embrace. A promise in the steady hands he held you with. Vulnerability in the skin that gently touched yours. To have someone this close, someone who was still more stranger than friend, though no less beloved, was what you had always wanted. And for once, what you wanted was just as lovely and fulfilling as you'd hoped. No catch. No deals. No unintended consequences. Just you and him and happiness.

All too soon he pulled away. His hand sought yours as he turned in the direction of the barracks. The longer you stayed behind, the worse the teasing from the others would be. They were only respectful of your relationship to a point, and after that it was fair game for a laugh. So you willingly followed.

"Crosshair?"

"Hm?"

"I was thinking about Hunter...."

The sniper glanced at you suspiciously.

"Well, you know he and I have been friends for a while. And he's confided a few things in me before. About what he wants. Or thinks he wants. He's changed his mind a few times on the specifics. But all in the same gist."

"Where are you going with this?"

"I don't know, I just feel like I owe him for helping me get through a tough time. And if it weren't for him, I wouldn't have ever met you. So--"

Crosshair cut you off with a groan. "If you're trying to get me to play matchmaker..."

"It would get some of the attention off of us," you quickly offered. "If Hunter had someone he was bringing around, too. Or even just interested in."

Crosshair frowned in thought. "There was a bartender on Scarif he kept checking out..."

You grinned and squeezed his hand affectionately. "See? Just keep an eye out and nudge him a bit. Who knows what could happen."

You could tell he was trying not to roll his eyes for your sake. Instead he squeezed your hand in return. "Or you could come with us and nudge him yourself?"

Your walking slowed, right as you were about to cross the facility boundary line. You would have to let go of his hand once you crossed it, keep a professional distance, share your company with others. And once the Batch's business here concluded, then you would have to let him go and watch him disappear into the sky with all the prayers you could possibly send with him. And then you would be on your own. Waiting, waiting, always waiting. And maybe he would return, and maybe he wouldn't.

And heaven forbid you would ever end up alone again.

"Or you can stay," he said. The quietness of his voice betrayed what he really meant, what he really wanted. 

And you knew what you wanted, too. Without you realizing, it was getting easier and easier for you to define your desires. And not only that, but to pursue them, too. To know your happiness was worth the risk of disappointment. It was clear to you now that you were not only worthy, but also capable. The man standing before you, holding your hand, gazing at you like nothing else mattered, was proof enough.

And so you said, "Take me with you."

Every Character Tag: @dangerousstrawberrypie, @justanothersadperson93, @arctrooper69, @sleepycreativewriter, @techie-bear, @theroguesully, @cw80831, @cdblake1565

Bad Batch Tag: @kaijusplotch, @rebel-finn, @lucyysthings, @marvel-starwars-nerd, @nekotaetae, @severalseashellsbytheseashore, @lackofhonor, @flowered-bicycles, @foodmoneyandcats, @nahoney22, @dangraccoon, @lulalovez, @aconstructofamind, @skellymom, @the-mom-friend-dot-com

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🍾 One Shots Master List | 🌙 Master List of Master Lists

[yoitsjay]

ONLY if you're still taking in songfic requests

Sweater weather with Crosshair making out with his s/o

The line "I hate the beach but I stand in California with my toes in the sand" feels so him, specially bcs he's in Pabu

Here you go bestie ;]

Holes Of My Sweater

Pairings: Crosshair x Gn! Reader

Summary: Crosshair had a lot to make up for. Though some mistakes he knew he couldn't fix.

Warnings: non descriptive smut, p in v, steamy kisses, character death. I hope you enjoy your surprise

Word Count: 1,831

And all I am is a man.

His lips were on yours the minute he saw you down at the beach on Pabu. He honestly thought you wouldn’t come back, not after the argument you had with him, not after Kaller- after what he had done?

I want the world in my hands

But you had forgiven him, and now you stood in front of him, arms wrapped around his shoulders with one hand cupping the nape of his neck as he held you flush against his torso, lips unwilling to part from each other.

I hate the beach

You soaked up his warmth and the warmth of the sand between your toes, finally breaking the kiss as you let out a soft little sigh, one that Crosshair wanted to hear over and over again, maybe in his bed, maybe in yours.

But I stand in Pabu with my toes in the sand.

“I have an idea.” Crosshair mumbled, his lips pressing to yours again, though you leaned into it, letting your eyes flutter closed as you just kissed for a few seconds, though when he pulled back again you couldn’t help the soft whine that left your lips.

Use the sleeves of my sweater, let's have an adventure.

“Let's go to my place.” He whispered, and you snorted in response, “A bit presumptuous no?” You asked softly, though he just gave you a look, and gestured to how you had yourself arching into his touch. “Touche” You muttered.

Head in the clouds but my gravity centered

Within seconds Crosshair had you up in his arms, your legs automatically wrapped around his hips, and one arm supported your lower back while the other was raised, his hand gently cupping the back of your neck as he kissed you again.

Touch my neck and i'll touch yours

Crosshair knew his way around Pabu pretty well now, so even as he stumbled while carrying you, and kissing you, he could still navigate back to his small little home that overlooked the beach.

You in those little high waisted shorts, oh.

But then Crosshair set you down again, not quite off the beach, instead he had brought you to a more secluded area, and his lips were back on yours, trailing down the skin of your neck as soft little sighs fell from your lips,

Oh, she knows what i'm thinking about

And what i think about…

“Crosshair…” You trailed off, cupping his cheeks as you brought his head back up, staring into the man's honeyed eyes. He hummed in response, feeling drunk from the touch of your hands, and your lips.

One love, two mouths

One love, one house

no shirt no blouse

“I love you.” You whispered, and he frowned, pressing his forehead against yours. “But- I've done so many horrible things… I almost hurt you- I wanted to…” He trailed off, feeling your breath fan against his lips as you sighed. “You may have done some pretty awful things, Cross, but I never stopped caring about you. I knew it was the chip controlling you… you felt like we betrayed you.” you muttered, cupping his face in your hands.

just us, you find out

nothing that i wouldn’t wanna tell you about.

“But you’ve been doing so good, at trying to make up for the things you did. You helped us take down Hemlock, and save Omega from Tantiss. You made it up to us, and we forgave you… I'm forgiving you.” You whispered, staring into his eyes, seeing him blink away the tears that were threatening to fall.

‘Cause it's too cold

For you here

A cold breeze blew past you and Crosshair, and he felt you shiver ever so slightly, so once again he enveloped you in his arms, burying his face in the crook of your neck.

And now so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

“I’m sorry.” He whispered, feeling your hands slide up and down his back. “It’s okay Crosshair, everything will be okay.” You reassured, and he smiled lightly before pulling back, seeing you shiver again as the cold bit at your skin.

And if i may just take your breath away

I don't mind if there's not much to say.

You and Crosshair stared into each other's eyes as a comfortable silence overtook you, your hands slid up his torso, finding purchase on his abdomen underneath his sweater, leeching up the warmth that he was radiating.

Sometimes the silence guides a mind

To move to a place so far away

Crosshair shivered upon feeling your touch, though he didn’t mind, instead his mind wandered, and he couldn’t help but wonder how far he could go with you, how far you’d let him touch, and squeeze and hold.

the goosebumps start to rise

the minute that my left hand meets your waist

Crosshair reached forward, his metal hand resting on the dip of your hip while his left hand slid up, sliding underneath your shirt as he ghosted his fingertips across the skin of your waist. You shivered again, but not from the cold. Goosebumps trailed up your skin, chasing after his touch until he pulled his hand back.

Then i watch your face

Put my finger on your tongue cause you love the taste, yeah

Then he raised his hand upwards, his thumb brushing against your lower lip. Your lips parted in response, and he dipped a finger past your lips. You let your eyes flutter closed, swirling your tongue around his finger for just a moment until he pulled his hand back.

These hearts adore, everyone the other beats hardest for

Inside this place is warm.

Crosshair didn’t want to wait anymore, he swept you up into his arms, basking in the heart laugh that fell from your lips as he carried you back to his hut, opening the door and closing it behind him with his foot as he brought you over to the small couch in the living area.

Outside it starts to pour

Coming down

Once seated, Crosshair's lips were back on yours, tongue sliding into your mouth just as rain started pelting heavily against the window. Your eyes fluttered closed, legs wrapped around his waist as he laid you back, his hands sliding up and down your hips as he kissed you.

one love, two mouths

one love, one house

no shirt, no blouse

Your hands slid up his sweater, grasping the ends as you broke the kiss momentarily, pulling the sweater off his body, tossing it behind you without a care of the world. Crosshair took advantage of the slight distance between you, as he had a similar idea, and was now working off your own shirt, sitting you up slightly as he pulled it off, and tossed it somewhere in the room as well.

Just us, you find out

Nothing that I wouldn't wanna tell you about, no no no.

“God Cross” You muttered softly, arching your skin against his as you ran your hands up and down his back, digging your nails slightly into his skin as he lifted your hips slightly so you were slotted closer to him.

‘Cause it's too cold

For you here

His lips were back on yours, though he deepened the kiss quicker than he had previously, feeling you arch into his touch, soft moans tumbling from your lips which he promptly silenced with his own open mouthed grunts.

And now so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater.

Crosshair then sat up, bringing you with him as he carried you from the couch, to the bedroom that was lit up dimly, it was comforting, and the warmth seeped into your skin, the rain on the window filling in the comfortable silence as Crosshair set you down on his bed, then started removing his pants.

‘Cause it's too cold

For you here

“Do you really want me? want this?” Crosshair asked suddenly, taking you off guard, since his hands were back on your waist, tugging at the band of your pants, silently asking for them to be removed if you wanted to continue this…

And now, so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

And of course you did…

“Fuck yes Crosshair, i wan’t you, like how we used to be.” You whispered. A shimmer of guilt flooded his heart, though was replaced with a swell of love for you as you leaned up, placing soft kisses against the skin of his neck.

‘Cause it's too cold

For you here

“Okay princess.” Crosshair whispered, the nickname sending shivers down your spine, igniting your core with arousal. “Lay back and relax for me.” He whispered. You could only nod your head, following what he asked of you as you scooted up his bed, resting your head on the pillows as you angled your hips upward, sliding off your pants and underwear, tossing them to the floor.

And now, so let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater

Crosshair devoured you, in more ways than just one, he had been so gentle to start, though with some encouragement you felt like you were being fucked back to the times during the clone wars. When you and Crosshair would sneak off on missions or when you were docked on Coruscant for supplies or a new mission, when hed take you to an alley, or a hotel and fuck your brains out.

it's too cold

For you here

You knew it would take a while for anyone to truly adjust to life on Pabu, after a lifetime filled with war. You understood more than anyone that adjusting to peace? true peace? was hard… Though as you and Crosshair came time from your highs, and now snuggled up beneath the blankets of his bed, you knew that things would be okay.

And now, let me hold

Both your hands in the holes of my sweater.

“Y/n…” Crosshair whispered your name, and you tilted your head upwards, staring into his eyes as you smiled, sliding your hand up to his cheek, brushing your thumb against his cheekbone. “Yes Cross?” You replied, tone soft as you watched his eyes flutter closed for the briefest of moments.

And it's too cold, it's too cold

The holes of my sweater.

“I wish you were real.” He whispered.

And that's when his eyes shot open, he was sitting up in bed, gripping the sheets desperately as he looked around. But you weren't there. The side of the bed that he would have shared with you was empty and cold, much like the space in his heart that you had once filled.

Crosshair had killed you on Kaller, and that was a mistake he could never take back. You were gone, and the only way he could remember you was through his dreams… or perhaps his nightmares…

And it broke him.

➺

Tag list:

Crosshair:

@nyctophobiart

Tbb:

@only-my-unexistent-fiances

All:

@moomoog017

[meshla-cyarika]

Cabur

Pairing: CX-2 x gn!reader

Word count: 1,223

Tags/warnings: angst, fluff, hurt/comfort, slight description of blood/injury, established relationship

Summary: CX-2 has come home from a tiresome mission and needs you to pick up the pieces of his lost soul.

Notes: CX-2 fluff anyone 👀? I've made it so he remains anonymous, so you can imagine it as any clone you like (I personally envisioned either Tech or Cody but it works with anyone). Sorry, it's a bit rubbish and short, but yeah.

--------------------------------------------------

Despite the fact that it is just past midnight, Tantiss base is still tingling with life. The pristine white interior contrasts the darkness of the jungle outside. CX-2 has just given his report to Hemlock and, even though everything went according to plan, the scientist still managed to be condescending.

Something stirs uncomfortably inside CX-2, when Hemlock praises him for his work. Taking down rebels, while murdering innocents caught in the crossfire isn't something to be praised for. Anyone in their right mind would spit words like venom at the assassin, throw punches till the bones beneath his skin turned into dust and leave his body unrecognizably mangled.

CX-2 had never questioned anything the way he does now, before he met you, before he started to be treated like a person. Everything changed, when he met you. Slowly, CX-2 started to become self aware and it terrified him, still does. He acts like nothing has changed, but inside his mind is screaming.

Gradually, he's starting to remember more - blurred faces of his brothers, bits and pieces of old missions, old routines. Despite this, he still can't figure out what his name is, or even his old registration number. Every file on the man he used to be was deleted, when he became CX-2. The same happened to all the other assassins.

The clone snaps out of his thoughts, when he realises he's made it to the door to your quarters. The durasteel door opens with a hiss and closes behind him. For the first time in days, it's like he can finally breathe again. As a chief medical officer, you receive your own private quarters, but it's nothing special and smaller than the one you had with GAR.

The clone peels off his black armour and stacks it on the floor by your desk. He practically rips off his gloves, that have too much blood on them to be able to wash off, and drops them on the floor too. The green glow of night vision leaves his sight, as he removes his helmet and is left in the darkness of your room. The short path to your bed is inbedded in his memory, so he has no problem peeling back the covers and slipping beneath them to wrap an arm around your sleeping form.

One of the only things the clone knows how to do perfectly is to not be noticed when he doesn't want to be. Although, now he's starting to second guess himself, because you soon stir awake.

"Cabur?" He sighs contently at the word leaving your lips. As you grew closer with him, you quickly started to hate calling him just by a number. After he told you that he doesn't have a name, you nicknamed him "cabur" - the mando'a word for guardian/protector. You think it's very fitting, especially after he nearly killed a natborn gaurd that got aggressive when you were treating her dislocated shoulder.

"Go back to sleep." He tightens the arm around your waist and slips his other arm beneath your pillow. You try to turn around to face him, but he holds you still.

"Just let me see you, cabur." You plead and he notices the lack of grogginess in your voice. You haven't been asleep long and he doesn't want to worry you. He gives in more easily than he wants to and loosens his hold on you. You turn over and you're just about able to make out his face in the darkness.

The first thing you notice is the exhausted look in his eyes and the dark circles below his eyelids. Then, you notice the patch running along his cheekbone which is soaked in blood. You hesitantly trace the bandage with you fingertips and he has to hold back a grimace.

"Let me patch you up?" You place your palm on the side of his face and absentmindedly rub your thumb in soothing motions just below his wound.

"You don't have to-"

"Of course, I do." I love you sits on the tip of your tongue, but you swallow it down. You sit up and throw your covers off of you to stand up. He sighs heavily, before hesitantly getting up to follow you into the fresher.

A comfortable silence consumes you both, as he sits on the toilet lid and you slowly peel off the bandage on his cheek. The gash is two inches long, still oozing out blood and deep enough to require stitches. You try to hold back a sympathetic wince, but your expression must still give you away, as he says, "it's not that bad."

"Respectfully, cabur, I'm the doctor here, so I'll be the judge of that." You playfully quirk a brow at him to try and lighten the mood. Sometimes, after you gently encourage him, he'll tell you what's happened on his latest mission and how disgusted he feels. You know for a fact it's not going to be one of those long nights. Just by looking into his deep brown eyes, you can tell all he wants is to sleep. Who are you to deny him that?

The room falls into silence again, as you use an alcohol wipe to clean the crimson liquid off his face. He doesn't even flinch at the sting. Times like this, where you're patching up your cabur, makes you think about the GAR, before the Empire had a chokehold on the galaxy. It makes you think about all the clones you had tended to, not knowing how long they were going to live after they left your medical tent. All that bloodshed and death. For what? Everyone lost in the end.

Being stationed on Tantiss base wasn't by choice. Even though it's supposed to be very confidential and secretive, enough rumours of the horrors of clone experimentation has slipped through to give everyone goosebumps at the mention of it's name. Once you get put on Tantiss, you never leave, prisoner or not.

You used to live in fear everyday for weeks on end, but then you realised that it's not about you. It's about them. The clone troopers of the Republic. The fight is not over yet and it never will be till every last clone is freed from the Empire's grasp. You can't remember when you first started conspiring with Captain Rex's rebellion, it's been months now. You've given him everything you possibly can, except for Tantiss' location. When you were sent on a shuttle with other medical officers to Tantiss, the gaurds never told you exactly where the base actually is in galaxy and you havent been able to find out since.

"All done." You snap out of your thoughts, after smoothing a fresh bandage over his newly stitched wound. Your cabur says nothing in response, he just circles his arms around your waist to pull you closer and rests his forehead against your collarbone.

You can't tell him, not yet. If you tell him you're a traitor, he'll want to help you and get himself hurt. You can't watch him bleed because of you.

You sigh and remove your hands from his hair, grabbing his chin to have him face you. You lean down and press your lips against his and it's like drinking from an oasis.

"Come on. Let's go back to bed, cabur."

[oceansssblue]

Hi Sky!!!!! I saw your message!!! I'd love to help you out! How about a little Hunter and female reader drabble ;) Perhaps with the prompt 'nightmares'.

Hullo love! I seem to be in a Hunter streak lately, so we'll finish with this little drabble before switching to some other sexy clone.

Hope you like it, xx.

Sky.

"NIGHTMARES" –HUNTER/F READER

WARNINGS: MELANCHOLY, LOST OF A FAMILY MEMBER, FEELINGS, COMFORTING FLUFF. 📩💔💖

Hunter's six sense, as Omega often called it, woke him up in the middle of the night. He yawned in silence, blinking slowly; wondering at first what could have have happened to interrupt his slumber. He proped himself on his elbows and scanned the rest of the bunk room with his eyes; quickly noticing your bunk empty, bedsheets ruffled up as if you had left the room in a hassle, perhaps needing some air outside of the very manly smelling bedroom.

Hunter hummed distractedly and decided to go find your whereabouts; directing his sleepy, naked feet through the corridor towards the cockpit. He knew you came here to sit down and lose yourself to your thoughts and the stars when your mind felt too active; to try to center yourself and process your feelings and thoughts. To compartimentalise.

He came to a stop as soon as he saw you; observing you in the quiet of the night. You were, in fact, cuddled up in Tech's pilot chair; chin resting on top of your knees and eyes far away from the present reality of the Marauder. Hunter knew you were far, far away.

He resumed his steps and padded over to you; his voice finally annoucing his presence, voice raspy and deep with sleep.

"What are you thinking of this time, cyare?" he asked you, coming to a stop a meter away from you.

You turned towards him; eyes quickly scanning his comfortable thin pijamas –a set of deep blue shirt and low waist pants– and the sleepyness of his face. The lack of his red bandana was noticable –his hair falling freely and slightly tangled towards his shoulders–; giving his overall appearance a soft, safe look.

You pull up a small smile on your face, barely a tug of your lips; lingering sadness hiding from him.

"Do I have to be thinking on something specific?"

Hunter stays in silence, and then slowly makes himself a spot on the co-pilot chair next to you. His eyes are gentle and patient. Ah, there's no hiding away from Hunter.

You smile while redirecting your face towards the stars you can see through the Marauders front window and stay quiet for quite the time. Hunter doesn't say a word; nor interrupts.

"I was thinking of my sibling" you finally say, and you know he's paying attention without having to look back at him.

"Nightmares?" Is his only cautious word.

You shrug your shoulders and hum distractedly, eyes still lost on the stars in front of you.

"Yes, at first. It's what woke me up, and why I came here" you pause and quietly hum again. "It's not what I was thinking when you got here, though".

"What was that?"

You smile to the stars.

"I was imagining a conversation in my mind. Of what I think he'd have said of my intervention on our last mission, if he had saw that" You chuckle, finally turning to look back towards him.

Hunters lips turn up into a tiny nostalgic smile.

"Do you often do that? Speak with him like that, in your imagination?"

It's a private question; but you have full trust on Hunter. He's always been special to you.

"Sometimes" you confirm. "I know it might be weird, but it helps me feel him closer. Or even process his death better, even if it might look like the opposite".

Hunter gently places his hand on your shoulder. It's warm. It's him.

"I think it's sweet" he answers. "And if it makes you feel better, I see no problem with it".

You smile at him again. It's a bit less melancholic now, more sincere. More happy, eyes slightly sparkling in the darkness. More alive. Present.

"Thank you, Hunter".

He nods and slowly stands back up. He offers you a hand.

"Come on, cyare. Let's get some sleep back".

You glance one last time at the stars, breathe in and smile. You stand up, and slide your hand against his, letting him gently tug you towards the bunk room again.

He's the first to lay down in bed; helping you find a comfortable spot besides him afterwards. You both hug each other softly in bed, relishing in the safety of each others warm embrace.

Kind, polite, reserved, firm Hunter is always that for you; safe.

THE END.

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Tara! Really short but I feel it's quite intense at the same time. A bittersweet feeling. Heavy feels but warmth and understanding, and support.

Again, hope you've liked it!

Stay tunned like always my guys, more to come!

Back to my general masterlist here:

[thesith]

— I’ll See You Soon

bad batch x gn!reader, implied tech x reader

this is a one shot in honor of the release of s3!

warnings: heavy angst, hurt/no comfort, death of batchers

notes: my first fic for the Bad Batch! while i was editing my other fics (posted a long time ago), i had this… unfortunate idea, so that’s what this is. apologies in advance!

summary: you, hunter, and omega lay them to rest.

Raining - just like it began on Kamino. Lightning cursed the air around you and Hunter as drops of water from the clouds above fell on your noses, and subsequently their graves. The rain falling on broken goggles, a helmet that was utterly too large for a normal sized head, and a special scope from their sniper’s favorite gun was telling enough.

You heard footsteps behind you, but you knew who they belonged to - the other remaining member of what once was the Bad Batch; Echo. In his arms was something you wouldn’t expect him to have - Wrecker’s Lula. Falling tears mixed with raindrops as you reached for the toy that brought the larger man comfort, holding Lula to your chest before handing it to Omega, who was stuck at Hunter’s side staring at the memorial with raw emotion.

The Empire won - it’d taken everything from you, and now there was no fighting back. You dropped to your knees, not caring about the mud that drenched your pant legs, and just stared at the miscellaneous objects littering the ground, which to anybody else would hold no significance - to you, they meant the world. It was Hunter lifting you to your feet that snapped your gaze from the graves toward him.

Hunter looked straight ahead and raised his right hand to his forehead, saluting his brothers. Echo recognized the gesture and almost immediately did the same, followed by your own salute. Moments passed and you could tell that none of you wanted to move from your positions, because that’d be making it final - setting everything that happened in stone.

You were the first one to drop your salute, bending down one last time to wipe the rain water from Tech’s broken lenses, unconsciously running your hand across his goggles. “I’ll see you soon,” you spoke to nobody in particular, rising from your kneeled position.

If anybody spoke, you didn’t hear them - you were too caught up in your own head to pay attention to anybody else. It was Hunter’s hand on your back that led you away from the memorial and toward the Havoc Marauder, and you refused to look back to your thoughts of what could’ve been.

None of it felt real; the losses of Crosshair, Wrecker, and Tech, the continuous flee from the Empire - the never ending cycle, which would only end with the impending deaths of you all.

You sat in the technical expert’s empty bunk with your holopad, pulling up the last of your messages to each other.

‘I’ll see you soon, Mesh’la.’

fin.

thank you for reading! check out my masterlist!

[skellymom]

"SMASH AND GRAB"

"THE BAD BATCH FEM READER X HUNTER/ECHO ACTION/ANGST FAN FIC"

Angsty angst between the reader (mildly Force sensitive/empath-nothing super powerful), a lover and a friend regarding the fate of the squad. Someone needs to listen and realize there is more than one future for Clone FAMILY 99.

BE PUNK.  DO CRIME.  FIGHT FACISM. 

Background: Love is hard and I wanted to capture a relationship that is trying to survive in a time of chaos and oppression. Where nothing is a sure bet, and the thought of losing loved ones is terrifying and a real possibility. How long can CF99 stay hidden on Ord Mantell? The reader experiences a sense of dread that their sanctuary may not last long.

...with a little Punk shenanigans thrown in to show the Fascists just WHO they are kriffin' around with!

Y'all, this started as a fun romp in Punk Crime...then got REAL deep. Couldn't help the word count. The story just kind wrote itself.

Note: This story hints at a possible LOVE TRIANGLE. Not extremely apparent. But those of you who code Hunter as "The Boyfriend" and code Echo as "The Close Friend" might see it. Also, Passion and Practicality as dramatic opposites.

Those of you who wish to NOT SEE A LOVE TRIANGLE. Please just read this dynamic as a caring lover vs a caring friend. Hopefully it's ambiguous enough for EVERYONE.

People who aren't particularly fond of Hunter's character arc while on Ord Mantell during S2 of the actual series will LOVE that I pick on him a bit in this fic.

Word Count: 3.5K

WARNING: Star Wars Canon Violence, someone is stabbed in shoulder w/no mention of blood, blood smear on a bottle, fear, angst, maybe mild swearing, briefly implied sex in one sentence.

(Credit: Cool moving star dividers by @4ngelic-wh1spers )

“Aww...” Omega kicked the dirt and hung her head...twisting the pendant around her neck. 

“Sorry kiddo.  We just...don’t have the credits.”  I shrugged feeling defeated. 

She gave one last glance at the chocolate bar, nodded and shuffled off to the next vendor’s stand. 

“Hey.”  Getting the attention of the vendor who owned the stand.  “Would you take 2 credits instead of 3?  For the kid??”  Pointing in Omega’s direction.   

It was worth a try. 

“Come back when ya got the credits...or DON’T come back AT ALL!”  The vendor waved me away from their stand.’ 

“Geez, you don’t have to be so RUDE about it!”  I shot back as I left to catch up with Omega. 

The vendor yelled after me “YOU PEOPLE...always wanting a handout!  Glad the Empire is cleaning up the planets in this system.  SICK OF YOUR KIND!” 

I waved back to him with a very specific hand signal... 

Being poor sucks. 

We’ve been scraping by since working for Cid on Ord Mantell.  Hunter and I have been talking about taking the squad and bailing soon... 

...after the NEXT job. 

We’ve been talking about this for a while.  But it’s always about the NEXT job...even if that was the last job we just did. 

He’s scared to leave and face the unknown.   

It’s the devil he knows.  And, somehow, it’s a kind of unfavorable comfort. 

But I HATE that Cid holds shit over our heads constantly. 

It’s making me seethe.  Making me resent my scared lover a bit.  And it breaks my heart that Omega can’t be a child... 

If Crosshair was here, he’d have set shit straight right away... 

But The Empire took him away from us. 

Echo agrees with me and tries to reason with Hunter. 

Tech gets sidetracked with everything going on. 

Wrecker, ever the supportive sibling goes along for the ride. 

Omega falls in with them too.  It’s all an adventure for her... 

Until it’s not.  And, I’m worried that’s going to be very soon. 

I can feel it.   

Every day SOMETHING is getting closer. 

And, I itch to escape this planet.   

But I WON’T go without them.  Life is nothing without them ALL. 

My opinion: We ALL can do better somewhere else.  Somewhere that WON’T have us living hand to mouth. 

But we MUST leave Ord Mantell. Or we’ll never know what the future might hold for us. 

ANOTHER mission for Cid.  And this one requiring that I and Omega stay behind for “safety reasons.” 

Hunter’s words, not mine. 

And this time Echo spoke up “The fact that we are leaving them behind means it’s time for us to terminate Cid’s employ.” 

“Where would we go?  Cid was YOUR contact, remember.”  Hunter shot back. 

Echo nodded across the room to me “She can FEEL it.  I believe her that we don’t have much time left.  Can’t you feel it too???” 

Hunter sat down wearily and sighed.  “EVERYTHING has been a blur since losing Crosshair...”  Putting his hand to his brow “Been missing a LOT lately.” 

Omega is sitting next to me.  I can see the panic in her eyes.  “Why are they arguing?” 

“Because they love us.  And, making decisions for the ones you love is difficult.”  I didn’t want to tell Omega that these men who normally have such a close camaraderie are only openly arguing because they are AFRAID.  The dynamic in our squad is starting to break down.  She’s seen and been through enough.  I try to shield her from what I can when I can. 

Tech and Wrecker weighed in on the situation...which now REALLY doesn’t help. 

Their voices rose higher.  I don’t hear the words anymore.  Just FEEL the emotions behind them: accusations, defensiveness, declarations to fight the Empire, plans to score big one last time and retire for good... 

I can’t sit here anymore.  Gently took Omega’s hand, leading her out of Cid’s Parlor with the lure of a “window shopping” to blow off steam.  Basically poor-person's shopping. 

She stops at the doorway, looking up at me.  So many emotions on her face.  “Shouldn't we tell them where we’re going?”  Omega remembers the last time she stepped out without checking in. 

I survey the loud debate between four grown men...four grown men who are scared, unsure boys who never had to live this way before.  My heart went out to every one of them.  I tried to tell them, to contribute to this discussion...so many times.  But they defer to two polar opposites with nothing in-between: 

Stay and keep working for Cid, hoping to eventually get ahead...then go retire on some fictional planet with a slim hope the Empire will never find us. 

Or, leave Ord Mantell forever and fly away with false fantasies of a battle leading to victory while heading right into the belly of the BEAST. 

“They won’t notice.”  It wasn’t the best answer...but I was mentally and emotionally exhausted.  “We’ll be back before then...” 

Omega, not totally buying my reply, still relented... 

But not without an unsure glance behind her at her brother’s grousing. 

Apparently...they DID notice. 

“Just where did you both go???”  Hunters concerned and frustrated face met us as we descended the stairs. 

I could see Echo across the room sitting at the bar “pretending” not to pay attention to our conversation. 

“Omega and I wanted to skip the big multi-person argument.” I cooly clapped back. 

He relaxed after seeing Omega with a big smile on her face. 

Then tensed up after she told him why she’s smiling:   

“Hunter, I met a Wino tonight.  He smells funny, but he does fantastic magic tricks!” 

Then she skipped away to see what Tech had on his datapad.  Wrecker handed her a fizzy kiddy beverage dressed up with a slice of Meileroon on the rim. 

Hunter gave me a... face.  The kind he gives me when I have some explaining to do. 

“What?” 

He sighed. 

“Please use your words.” 

“Ok.  DON’T leave without telling us where you are going.  Double if Omega is with you.” 

“Sure thing, Sergeant.” Then I turned and walked away.  Settling in the furthest corner of the bar to be alone. 

Hunter shook his head and scoffed.  Strolled defeatedly back to the bar, then gave Tech a slight bump on the shoulder.  Tech immediately slid off the stool and followed Hunter into Cid’s empty office...and shut the door. 

I leaned back into the sofa and closed my eyes.  I felt so exhausted... 

A few minutes later a warm hand patted my shoulder.  I opened my eyes. 

Echo set down a drink on the table beside me.  “Glad you and Omega are back.  We get worried sometimes.  Things are getting...complicated and dangerous.  He’s...WE are ALL looking out for you both.” 

He walked away and entered Cid’s office, closing the door behind him. 

Kriff...they DEFINITELY are planning ANOTHER mission... 

Put it all out of my mind and settled in to watch Wrecker and Omega play several rounds of “KABOOM!”  It’s a chaotic card game Wrecker made up to keep Omega busy.  She loves Dejarik, but Wrecker tires of it easily.  KABOOM! is really an old card deck CF99 has carried with them forever, and Wrecker has scrawled writing all over them with his own “game script.” 

“KABOOM!” Omega yells after she picks a particular marked card.  Then throws her hand up into the air to symbolize an explosion... 

Kaboom indeed...hopefully not us and not anytime soon...but the cards will fall wherever they may...I have no control over them. 

“Hey...” Smoky whisper in my ear. 

I open my eyes and see Hunter hovering over me.  His eyes are soft and loving while he runs his fingers though my hair.  I’m covered with a blanket and there’s a pillow under my head.  The game room is empty, silent, and dark. 

“How long have I been out?” 

“Couple hours.”  Then he plants a kiss on my forehead.  “Apologies for earlier today.” 

“Accepted.  I could have handled that interaction better myself...” 

“No...I’ve...got to get my shit together.”   

“I won’t argue with that.” I snicker. 

He smiles.  It’s been SO long since I’ve seen him do that.  My heart aches for a time before this one...a simpler time for all of us. 

His expression switches to a forlorn one... 

“You’re leaving soon...” 

“Yes.  But I promise it’s the LAST mission for Cid.  EVER.” 

“I recall you’ve said that before.” I grumped, attempting to get up from the couch. 

“But this time I MEAN it.”  He grabs my hand and I stop. 

He drops something cold into my palm and the chain it’s attached to trails out of his hand.  Then he cups his hand affectionately under mine. 

It’s a necklace.  The pendant a shard of deep green meteorite Hunter and I had witnessed impacting a planet when we first kissed.  How’s that for symbolism?  When it finally cooled, he snuck back to the site, fishing it out and surprised me with this as a gift.  Carried in my pockets for forever...until recently I thought it had been lost.   

“You got sneaky there, Bandana.” 

“Tech set it so you can wear it.  It’s made of the metal that doesn’t irritate your skin...that doesn’t sound very romantic...does it?”  Hunter grimaced. 

I snort and it elicits a chuckle from him.  “For most people, probably not.  But I deeply appreciate the gesture.  Also, the practicality.  Thanks.”  His words may falter, but I can FEEL the intensity of his emotions in this moment.  The depth of his affection and devotion. 

He lovingly takes the necklace from my hand and clasps it around my neck.  I lift the blanket and Hunter crawls in next to me on the sofa. 

“I love you so much Y/N. Have a hard time showing it sometimes...please understand I just want the best for us...” 

I shush him with my finger to his lips.  “I love you too, Hunter...and I struggle in the same way.  Let’s call a truce...for tonight.” 

He nods and I kiss him...kiss him with all the fire and passion that I cannot say with words.  He answers my love language in kind.  We heat up that sofa like nothing it’s ever seen before. 

That fateful day I’ve been worried about finally came... 

An Imperial Class Venator loomed over the city. 

So large, it blocked out part of the sun. 

White armored stormtroopers, dispatched to the planet swarmed Ord Mantell.  They kicked in doors and terrorized the locals. 

Were they searching for us?  Or just taking over the planet, like so many others in the galaxy? 

“Havoc 1, do you copy?” Echo tries to comm Hunter... 

Nothing. 

“Empire is jamming all ground communications.” He sneered. 

Omega and I sat crouched across from Echo under a vendor table.  The tablecloth kept us hidden. 

Today was our day to shop for supplies.  Of course, Echo tagged along.  If Hunter wasn’t with us, it would always be Echo.     

I was already a bundle of nerves that my “bad feeling” came true.  Echo’s presence helped me keep it hidden around Omega. 

“Oh NO!”  Omega started to fret.  “Maybe they’ve been captured?  How will they find us?  We’ll be separated!” The fear rising in her voice made the hairs on the back of my neck stand up. 

I put my arm around her, giving a firm squeeze.  “Don’t worry, Hunter and Tech probably got it under control.  And Wrecker will smash heads.” 

“Yeah, kiddo what Y/N said.”  Echo put a calm face on it.  

He knew something I didn’t...I could FEEL it. 

“We need to get to them!” Omega whispered 

“No Havoc 5.  We’re sitting tight.  They’ll find us.”  Echo winked. 

He DID know something... 

“Out with it, Echo.” 

“What?” His expression innocent. 

“What do YOU know that Omega and I don’t?” 

“Nothing...” Smiling with that shit eating grin if his.  Sassy, yet charming. 

Omega and I glance at one another.  Then glare at Echo. 

“Hey, I was sworn to secrecy.”  His expression turned from mild to hardened soldier as the sound of marching feet rounded the corner of the vendor’s square. 

Echo silently pulled his weapon...having it on the ready. 

They stopped next to our table. 

“FREEZE Civilian!  Come out with your hands up!!!” 

All three of us froze, staring at one another. 

Echo had a look...like he was ready to kill whoever was out there... 

Omega put both hands over her mouth.  Her eyes wide in abject fear. 

I squeezed her closer to me... 

The trooper violently kicked over the table... 

...next to us. 

A man’s scream rang out and continued to do so as they beat and kicked him. 

We recognized the voice.  It was the local street wino.  Nice man...just liked his Spotchka a bit TOO much. 

“Evading Emperial soldiers is a crime Civilian...so is stealing.” 

The wino’s bottle of unopened Spotchka rolled under the table, stopping to rest against my knee... 

...blood smeared across it. 

A trooper’s hand groped under the tablecloth for the bottle. 

Omega mewled in terror quietly behind her hands.  

Echo readjusted the grip on his weapon. 

I silently pulled the small vibro dagger from my belt... 

...hovering it over the groping hand. 

“LEAVE IT!”  Another trooper barked at the one reaching for the bottle. 

“I’VE ALMOST GOT IT!”  He crankily barked back. 

The hand hovered over the bottle... 

Then suddenly gripped my leg and yanked me out from under the table! 

The trooper seemed shocked at what he pulled out.  He crouched there staring dumbly at me.  I lay in the dust stunned... 

...for a split second... 

Then I viciously stabbed him in the shoulder. 

The trooper screamed.  Echo knocked the table over and opened fired on the rest of the Imps.  He laid them all to rest efficiently. 

But our cover was blown. 

I pulled my dagger from the dead trooper, sheathing it. 

The wino, bloody and battered, staggered to his feet. 

“THERE THEY ARE!!!” 

All of us turned to see the vendor from the other day pointing in our direction.  He was standing at his stall with a HUGE satisfied grin on his face. 

More imps passed him running toward us.  The wino found his feet and fled quickly from the scene. 

To add insult to injury, the vendor felt the need to keep speaking... 

“WARNED YOU THE EMPIRE IS CLEANING UP THE GALAXY!  YOU PEOPLE DON’T DESERVE TO LIVE...” 

The roar of an engine overhead thankfully drowned out the rest. 

Tech fired the Marauder’s cannons into the crowd of Imps, decimating them.  Then swooped in lower to pick us up. 

Echo grabbed Omega’s hand, and before she could be whisked away, she pushed something cold and hard into my hand... 

The bottle of Spotchka...opened...with a strip of the torn tablecloth stuffed into it... 

A makeshift wick. 

Did I mention how much I LOVE THAT LITTLE HOOLIGAN! 

The vendor locked eyes with me.  His hateful stare...all the horrible things he said to us while on Ord Mantell...his lack of empathy for our plight...his open contempt for the poor...outcasts...those that don’t fit into HIS version of society...his alliance with The Empire...the unyielding hand of power beating down EVERYONE in the galaxy... 

RIGHTOUS ANGER welled up within me... 

We kept eye contact as I calmly pulled the small torch from my belt. 

And lit the wick. 

Then smiled at that kriffing piece of Bantha waste. 

The haughty expression left his face damned quick...and he turned tail and ran. 

I chucked that Flaming Bottle of Rebellion as hard as I possibly could and ran towards the ship.  The explosion rang out as I reached the Marauder, pushing me backwards onto the gangplank. 

All manner of debris rained down from the sky. 

And... for some STRANGE reason, I reached out to catch one particular piece... 

...just a FEELING...a hunch...some random, strange reflex...no thinking involved whatsoever... 

My arms enclosed around it...as it slammed squarely into my midsection, knocking the wind out of me... 

I gasped for air... 

Barely registering Hunter reaching out and yanking me into the Marauder... 

The flight away from Ord Mantell was ROCKY with extremely heavy space traffic! 

Tech navigated through all manner of passenger and cargo ships around the planet trying to escape being captured by the Empire.  Echo at his side assisting with hyperspace jump codes. 

Just the thing we needed to get away undetected...for now. 

Hunter rubbed my back as I struggled to breathe.  Finally, I got my wind back, then looked down at what hit me in the gut. 

A FULL unopened box of exported Coruscant designer chocolate bars. 

“Huh...sometimes that Force stuff really does work out.”  I muttered.  “OMEGA!” 

She ran over. 

"Here ya go, kiddo.”  Handing her the whole box.  “Btw...thanks for the Spotchka Cocktail.” 

She smiled like a fox in an Endorian henhouse and ran away with the box.  I could hear Wrecker’s excited voice as he helped her open it. 

I gently fell back and relaxed against Hunter’s chest, exhaling away all the stress. 

He put his arms around me, inhaling the scent of my hair. 

“Hey?” 

“Hmmm?”  He hummed into my hair. 

“How did you know EXACTLY where we were?” 

His hand slowly snaked up and tapped the keepsake necklace around my neck. 

“You...have a TRACKER on...ME???”  I glanced over to the necklace around Omega’s neck. 

“Uh huh.” Tracing a heart shape slowly against the skin of my chest. 

He didn’t even have to look up from nuzzling my hair.  Hunter KNEW I understood Omega was also carrying one as well. 

I glanced across the Marauder to Echo. 

“YOU LITTLE MECHANICAL SHIT!” I teased. 

“Of course.  You wouldn’t expect anything less?”  He smirked, then swung his chair around to converse with Tech. 

“So...you put a bell and collar on us BOTH?” I addressed Hunter. 

“For safety reasons only.  Can’t have anything bad happening to our girls.”  He caressed my face.  “Originally it was only for Omega...you know...her wandering off problem.  Just couldn’t cope if we lost you both...” 

I sat up to turn around and face him.  Putting his face in my hands. 

“Hunter, we’re finally free from Cid and Ord Mantell.  But I’m upset it took something like THIS for us to leave.  I’ve been asking for MONTHS!” 

Behind me I could FEEL Echo turning his attention back to us.  FEEL him nodding in agreement with my statement.  Almost FEEL him thinking “We got lucky this time.” 

Hunter’s eyes flicked up to Echo, then back to me. 

“You’re BOTH right.  I’m sorry.  Bad at this civilian business.  I’ll do better in the future...we have one now.” 

“Except for the Empire...” Echo clapped back. 

Hunter’s eyes flicked back up to Echo.  He nodded, slight defeat on his face. 

“HUNTER.”  I implored.  His eyes focused back on me.  “PROMISE me we’ll stay off the radar for a while...and make our OWN way as much as possible.” 

“I promise.” 

“PROMISE that you will LISTEN to me when I give you my input about what I sense and think.  I’m an important part of this squad...oh let’s stop saying that...FAMILY! 

Hunter waited...I felt him SENSING that I wasn’t done speaking.  Was he finally getting his senses back??? 

“AND STOP STONEWALLING ME!  It’s disrespectful.  I’m a grown woman and your partner...hopefully for the long run...but it WON’T be if you don’t respect me and start having the harder conversations.” 

Ouch...I could see that cut deep.  What I said wasn’t hurtful.  Hunter was recognizing his mistake.   He was really listening to my brutal honesty.  

“And...STOP beating yourself up...that’s MY job!” 

He raised an eyebrow. 

I finished...and could FEEL the weight of several pairs of eyes on us.  Everyone else in the ship was watching my and Hunter’s interaction. 

Hunter and I met every pair of eyes in the place.  

“No arguing with her AT ALL!  She’s RIGHT.”  Echo smirked and turned back towards the Marauder's dash.   

"Agreed.”  Tech following suit. 

“Let’s let them work it out, eh?”  Wrecker put his hand on Omega’s shoulder.  

Ever astute, Omega nodded, then took her box of chocolates and went to the gunner’s loft with Wrecker. 

Hunter stared into my eyes with a clarity that I had only witnessed BEFORE our arrival to Ord Mantell “I’ve been neglecting you...and our relationship too.”  He sighed.  “If you would rather go off with Echo and run missions for the resistance, I wouldn't blame you.”  

“It’s true that I may not want to totally settle down on some back-alley planet.  But then, I’m certainly not ready to run off and wage war with a huge oppressive regime just yet, ok?  Maybe something in-between.  I’m not an all or nothing kind of gal.” 

Hunter nodded and glanced briefly at Echo again.  Then back to me. 

“It’s true...I DO love him.”  I revealed. 

Hunter’s face showed a very brief, very hurt micro expression. 

“But It’s true that I love YOU too.  And I love Omega, Wrecker, and Tech... I still love Crosshair...wherever he is.  I love you all so much sometimes it hurts.  Love you all so much, that I can’t leave you even though I could feel the Empire closing in on us...” 

“We don’t leave our own behind...” Hunter whispered. 

“Never.”  I answered.  “Let’s work on being a family that can come together and plan our future...ok?  If you and I DON’T plan our future, we won’t ever have one.  Does that answer your question?” 

“Completely.” Hunter’s voice cracked. 

I put my arms around Hunter and held him close.  

Then we quietly contemplated what the future would hold...and where we would go next. 

Not before catching Echo’s expression and FEELING the words behind it: 

You’re brave...and I’m very PROUD of you! 

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[webslinger-holland]

Running Bets | Hunter from The Bad Batch

Summary: The Bad Batch likes to make bets during missions, especially when things get really chaotic.

Warning: mentions of death, weapons, and droids being dismembered

Pairing: Hunter x Fem!Reader Jedi

Word Count: 3.5k

Type: Oneshot

The Bad Batch were currently away on another one of their missions. They found themselves aboard a modified Providence-Class Separatist Dreadnought which served as General Grievous's main command ship. Their mission was quite simple: infiltrate the naval warship, retrieve a piece of valuable intel, and return it back to the jedi council.

A few years prior, the Kaminoans had specifically requested for the Jedi Council to select and send a Jedi to come work with the rebellious group of clones. They had hoped being under the command of a jedi master would beat them into shape and teach them how to properly follow orders.

However, the Kaminoans didn't know what they had gotten themselves into when General L/n was sent to work with The Bad Batch. She was the only jedi who jumped at the opportunity to lead the group of misfits since nobody else wanted to be assigned to them. She came with her own sense of recklessness that only added to the squads over-the-top plans and inability to follow order the 'right way.'

Now, just a few years later, the five members of the Bad Batch stood in front of a closed corridor on the dreadnought. There was a comfortable silence that settled over them which was only interrupted a few times by Crosshair clicking the scope of his sniper rifle, Wrecker cracking his knuckles in preparation for the fight ahead of them, and Tech tapping away at his data pad. They stared at the closed door right in front of them, growing slightly impatient.

"Ugh," Wrecker groaned while rolling his eyes in annoyance. "What's taking so long?"

"I am trying to crack into the ship's security system. It's a complex system, but once I'm in, I'll be able to access all the doors of the dreadnought and open this one for us," Tech explained to them. He was kneeling beside the data panel beside the door, pressing some buttons in the process.

The only problem was that the rest of them had tuned him out after the word 'security.'

"Why can't I just smash through the doors? It'll be a lot quicker than this," Wrecker argued.

"Because that would give away the element of surprise," Hunter interjected. "Nobody knows we're here."

"And I, for one, would like to keep it that way," General L/n added.

"Just hurry up, will you?" Wrecker groaned. "I'm dying to crush some droids."

"I've...almost...got...it," Tech said rather slowly while pressing buttons on the panel quickly.

The screen became illuminated with a shade of green, which shown in the reflection of his goggles adorned on his face. He was now granted access to the entire ship's security system via his data pad. He stood back up to join his brothers. He pressed a few buttons on his data pad to open the large sealed blast door in front of them.

"Eyes up. We don't know what we're up against on the other side of this," Hunter told the rest of the group. They waited for the door to open for them. He drew his own two blasters out of the holsters, keeping them ready for a fight.

The other members of the group seemed to follow his actions by readying their own weapons. The general, who stood in the front and center of the group, decided to pull her own two lightsabers from her belt. Her thumbs lingering over the button in preparation for activation. Her eyes trained on the sealed door in front of her, holding her breath in anticipation.

"Care to wager a bet, boys?" She hoped it would put the rest of them at ease.

"Don't we always?" Crosshair inquired with a slight hint of sarcasm in his tone.

"Loser has to clean the ship including the refresher," Y/n smirked to herself. She glanced over her shoulder to meet Wrecker's gaze.

"That's not that bad of a punishment," Wrecker scoffed while his shoulders slumped in slight disappointment.

"Have you seen the ship recently? Can't even see the floor," Hunter interjected.

"It has gotten pretty bad," Tech agreed. Oddly enough, Tech was easily one of the messiest ones because of all the little projects he left lying around. One could trip over all the cords and wires on the ground.

"Fine," Wrecker groaned more to himself. "Loser cleans the ship."

"Including the refresher," Y/n quickly added, not wanting him to miss out that little detail because she had every intention of making sure he lost today.

"Including the refresher," Wrecker grumbled under his breath.

"Whenever you're ready, Tech." The General was prepared for the fight ahead of them, keeping a firm grip on the two lightsabers in her grasp. She readjusted her stance and lifted her lightsabers up in a defensive manner.

Finally, as if on cue, Tech pressed a single button on his data pad which activated the blast doors in front of them. The doors began opening slowly from the center, retracting back into the walls and revealing the vast hallway corridor in front of them.

What the Bad Batch hadn't expected was to find the corridor completely packed with the traditional B-1 battle droids. There had to have been fifty or sixty of them standing around with blasters in hand. Their long yellow heads seemed to turn towards the source of the noise all simultaneously.

"A jedi?" One of the closer droids exclaimed in slight surprise. He pointed towards the group to signal the others. "Blast them!"

Before the droids even had a chance to start firing, General L/n had activated her two yellow lightsabers and charged straight towards the company of clankers. She dodged each of their shots, moving swiftly from left to right. Once she got close enough to them, she swiftly swung her lightsaber to slice through the base of their blasters, rendering them useless.

Behind her, the rest of them started firing their own shots and taking out droids while making their way down the corridor. Each of them showcasing their own unique style of fighting. While Crosshair usually lingered behind the group to take his precise shots, Wrecker always charged head on and fired wildly at anything in sight. There was Hunter who liked switching between blasters and blades, but often kept to his knifes as a preference. In contrast, Tech always carried two blasters and fired calculated shots.

Despite all their differences, the Bad Batch successfully worked together as a team. The General also had a different strategy. She always rushed head on; though it wasn't because she was eager for the fight, but more so because she wanted to protect the others if she could. Her two lightsabers acted as their only defense in many situations. And they trusted her enough to cover them.

Taking more droids down, Tech quickly maneuvered his way through a clear and open path until he stood in front of the next closed door. His twin joined his side and covered his back so he could have the time to open the next door without getting shot. However, when Tech pressed the button on his data pad, the doors in front of him didn't open and his data pad flashed red.

"Uh oh," Tech said to himself.

"Uh oh?" Hunter repeated. He grabbed the blade of his knife before throwing it across the room, sticking directly into a battle droid's head. "What does 'uh oh' mean, Tech?" Hunter demanded an answer.

"This door isn't opening," Tech explained shortly. He kept pressing buttons on his data pad in hopes that it would open if he tried a different combination.

"I thought --" Y/n grunted as she sliced through another droid. "You said you overroad the ship's security system and that you'd have full access to all doors."

"I did," Tech replied with a strong sense of frustration in his voice.

Pressing one final button, the door opened ever so slightly but then closed again. There had to be someone on the other side, operating the system to keep it closed from them.

"Someone is intentionally trying to keep this door closed and keep us out," Tech announced to the rest of them. His eyes scanned the vast space of the door, thinking about how he could get through.

"Well, get it open." Y/n replied.

Kneeling down beside the door, Tech got to work by prying the metal panel away from the wall. His skillful fingers threaded through the various colorful wires, searching for a cord to connect to his data pad. He called out to the others, saying he was gonna need a minute to break through.

As Tech worked steadily, Crosshair stood right beside him and fired strategically from his sniper's rifle. He took out droids who even turned in their general direction, not wanting them to get remotely close to them.

Just as the group of battle droids was beginning to thin, the doors on the left and right side of them opened to reveal more. The droids marched right into the fight, acting as the reinforcements to protect whatever was locked behind the main door. They fired relentlessly which was starting to put a strain on the group.

At some point, Wrecker had abandoned his rapid firing blaster and decided to just rip droids apart. It wasn't that hard of a task since they were made of a relatively cheap metal. He'd simply grab a droid, tear the limps off, and toss the remaining parts to the side. He threw one of the droid's bodies into the crowd coming into the corridor, which ended up knocking some of them down.

"I've got ten already!" Wrecker announced over the loud blaster fire echoing in the room. He smiled proudly to himself as he tore the arms off another droid.

"I'm on seventeen," Y/n called back. She could have sworn she heard the sergeant chuckled behind his helmet.

"Wha--" Wrecker was at a loss for words. He retrieved his blaster once again, firing rapidly in hopes of taking down more droids than his companion.

As she sliced through two more droids, Y/n turned her head and looked over her shoulder. She wore an amused smile on her face when she announced: "Nineteen!"

"You're falling behind, Wrecker." Crosshair taunted from the sidelines. He went to adjust his scope before pulling the trigger a few more times, watching the droids fall from behind it.

"Yeah? How many are you on?" Wrecker asked snakily.

"Don't worry about it."

In the center of the room, Hunter had pulled his vibroblade out of the sheath on his forearm. He jabbed the knife into the backs of droids, sendings jolts of electricity through them and taking their main computing systems out. He worked through the growing crowd of clankers, moving between them smoothly in a way that managed to dodge their firepower.

Upon turning, Hunter spotted a couple of them pointing their blasters directly at him. He dropped down to the floor just as they began firing, getting out of the way just in the knick of time. He summersaulted towards them, swiping his leg out to take out their legs from underneath them. The three droids fell to the floor. He plunged his knife into their heads before they had a chance to regain composure.

"How's that door coming, Tech?" Hunter inquired.

Now Tech was working steadily at cracking the system's code. He just needed a little bit more time, which he was certain his brothers could grant him. At first, Tech didn't respond to Hunter's question. All of the sudden, a battle droid had come to approach him and stood directly beside him.

"Halt," the droid ordered him.

Without looking up, Tech pulled one of his blasters out of his holster. He raised it quickly and fired a single shot, which managed to lodge itself directly into the droid's head. He pocketed his blaster again as the droid collapsed right beside him and went right back to work on the door.

"Just a few more adjustments," Tech replied to the others. He clicked a few more buttons on his data pad, but nothing that effected their current situation. They were still stuck in the corridor and more droids were filtering in by the second.

"You're taking a long time. Thought you were supposed to be the smart one," Wrecker called out. He grabbed another droid, raising it above his head and sending it hurdling down the corridor to take out another company of them.

"I am the smart one," Tech reassured them with a hint of bluntness in his voice. He did not look the slightest bit amused by Wrecker's comment.

"Heads up," Hunter announced.

He took out an electro magnet pulse grenade, pressed the button on the side to activate it and threw it into a crowd of droids coming into the corridor. The grenade landed at the feet of the droids before random bursts of electricity and energy surged from it. The droids' bodies shook from the electricity, shutting them down.

Despite their efforts, more droids just kept coming after them. It seemed like it was a never ending steady flow of them. When one droid went down, another two would come into the corridor to replace them. The amount of dead droids littering the ground with becoming overwhelming.

At some point, Hunter was firing shots towards droids coming from the left and Y/n was deflecting blasts coming from droids on the right side. They met in the center of the room; their backs pressing together. The two of them moved in a synchronized harmony, trusting that the other was able to cover their backs and silently communicating with their timed movements.

Tapping into the force. Y/n raised her two lightsabers over her head and forced them to form an 'x' shape directly in front of Hunter's helmet. This movement deflected a single blaster shot that was intended to strike the sergeant in the head. If it hadn't been for her senses and his stillness in that movement, Hunter would've taken the shot to the head. But that wasn't gonna happen on her watch.

"Thanks," Hunter peered over his shoulder.

"Don't mention it," Y/n waved it off.

With their backs pressed together, Hunter and Y/n continued to work together to take down the droids coming at them. The two of them moved with ultimate precision that they dominated the field. They'd never danced like this before.

At this point, Wrecker and Crosshair had stopped firing their own shots just to watch the others in action. The immediate threat was gone now as the number of droids firing at them had dwindled drastically.

Spotting the last four droids coming towards them in a line, Y/n took a single step away from her partner. She twisted her body to launch her lightsaber down the hallway, watching the yellow blade circle rapidly towards them. The lightsaber effortlessly sliced through the droids heads and they clattered to the ground. Before the lightsaber made contact with the wall, Y/n summoned it back into her hand and switched it off. She pocketed them both onto her belt.

The four members of the squad met in the center of the room while the other continued working on the connecting wires to his data pad. They briefly glanced at the mass amounts of unmoving droids by their feet, kicking a few limbs out of the way. At last, Wrecker flopped down on a small pile of droids. He looked at each of them with a strong sense of anticipation.

"Final count," Crosshair began. He adjusted the scope on his rifle for long range. He smirked to himself at the mere thought of winning the contest. "Thirty-three."

"Thirty-three," Wrecker repeated calmly. He nodded his head understandingly. "That's not bad for the squad's resident sniper."

Upon hearing this, Crosshair glanced up at him with eyebrows furrowed in slight confusion. He halted his movements, studying the way his brother looked so pleased with himself.

"I, myself am sitting on thirty-four," Wrecker smirked to himself.

Before Wrecker could revel the fact that he outscored his younger brother in a battle, a single blaster bolt struck the droid he was sitting beneath right in between his legs. He glanced down at the sizzling strike.

"Thirty-four," Crosshair smirked to himself. He lowered his rifle once again.

"He was already dead," Wrecker argued.

"I saw him twitching," Crosshair suggested. He shrugged his shoulders at the notion. But Wrecker only became more enraged by this.

"He was twitching because I removed all of his limbs!" Wrecker shouted. Sure enough, the droid was still twitching slightly beneath him since the main operating system located in the head went undamaged in the fight.

"Are you two done yet?" Y/n wondered. She glanced between the two of them. "My final count was forty-eight."

"That's not fair," Wrecker groaned. "You had a head start."

"I always have a head start," Y/n recalled all of their missions together where she went charging head on to defend the others. "This wasn't any different than all the other times."

"Sergeant?" Crosshair questioned with a crocked eyebrow. The sergeant stood with his arms crossed against his chest; an amused look settling over his face.

"Fifty," Hunter announced.

The rest of them only groaned in utter annoyance. This was certainly not the first time the sergeant managed to outperform them and it wasn't going to be the last time. He claimed his victory silently, relishing the looks of disappointment on their faces.

"Looks like Wrecker and Crosshair will be cleaning the ship since they tied," Hunter told them.

"No," Wrecker went to argue. He rose to his feet. "Tech has to do it. He only got like four kills."

"Tech was a little occupied with other things. Like working on the door," Hunter told him. He glanced over his shoulder to find him still tinkering away at the data pad near the door.

"Then it should be Crosshair," Wrecker pointed to him. "That last one shouldn't count."

"Wrecker," Y/n called in a warning tone. "You both lost. Admit it."

"Fine," Wrecker huffed to himself. His shoulders slumping down at his sides. "I'll clean the ship," Wrecker added.

"And the refresher," Hunter recalled. She glanced at him through the corner of her eyes with nothing but admiration behind them.

"Yeah. Yeah. I'll do that too," Wrecker agreed to the terms.

Just then, Tech clicked the last button on his data pad to activate the door in front of him. His data pad glowed green, which meant the system had been overrun thanks to his expertise. The rest of them turned to direct their attention to the opening door, seeing the vast array of data forms in the control center.

Slowly, the Bad Batch came to approach the opening to the control center. Their eyes scanned over the various glowing white tubes attached to one central column in the room. Whatever they had come for, they were sure to find somewhere in there. Now they just needed their resident 'smart one' to locate the intel they'd come for.

"Nice work, Tech." Hunter spoke. "Let's locate the intel and get out of here as quick as we can."

All of the sudden, Y/n was able to feel a slight disturbance in the force. A dark wicked figure had graced their presence directly behind them. The sound of metallic claws for feet ground against the floor in approach. The presence was an all-too familiar one to go unnoticed or unrecognized.

The Jedi General had encountered this imposing figure one other time in her life, which was when he brutally murdered her master in combat. Ever since then, Y/n had grown to fear him and never wanted to face him. But now here he was standing behind them and blocking their only exit.

His cybernetic enhancements gave him exceptional strength, speed and reflexes to outmaneuver force-users. He wielded four lightsabers (one for each mechanical arm) and often overwhelmed the jedi with them. His most intimidating feature was his height alone, standing at nearly seven feet tall and towering over most of his encounters.

"General Y/n," the mysterious voice announced from behind them.

The other members of the squad quickly spun around on the heels of their feet, raising their blasters directly towards the menacing figure on the other end of the hallway. They moved to stand in front of their own general in hopes of protecting her.

"It's been a long time since our last encounter."

Now, coming to the realization that she could no longer run from her past, Y/n found herself turning around to face her demons. Her eyes landed on the familiar figure who had slaughtered her master, feeling her heart drop into the pit of her stomach.

It was almost like he could sense her fear of him despite not being a force sensitive being. He cackled to himself, which was something else that still haunted her too. She could still hear the way he laughed over her master's dead body. She went to retrieve her lightsabers from her belt, feeling the strong sense of anger overtaking her senses.

Because today would be the day she took down General Grievous.

[lqveharrington]

You Look Beautiful | V.

summary: Alastor introduces you to Vox, leading to an unforgettable experience with your father.

pairing: vox x lucifer’s daughter!reader

includes: drinking, fluff, VALENTINO, secret relationships, awkward flirting, lucifer being an overprotective father, lucifer also being lucifer, that’s basically it (let me know if i missed any !!)

a/n: this takes place before Vox upgrades to a flat screen TV and before Alastor leaves for his seven year absence. Also, you’re older than charlie 🤗

Being Lucifer Morningstar’s first daughter was something else. Especially when your mother left. When she left, your father fell into deep depression which left you with paperwork to fulfill from other sins and left you with the responsibility of watching over your younger sister. Having to take over both your mother and father’s royal duties was getting to you, so no wonder you resorted to occasional clubbing with your friends.

“Husk!” You enveloped the demon cat in your arms, earning a noise of complaint. “Rude.”

“I don’t take affection lightly.” He patted your back awkwardly and let you settle into the booth with him. “What took you so long?”

You roll your eyes, “Charlie wanted to invite the stupid Von Eldritch boy over. I at least had to set some ground rules.”

“She’ll disobey them.” Husk shook his head and ordered a whiskey. “You know her.”

“Yeah yeah.” You wave him off and order your own drink, tapping your nails against your flip phone. “Do you know if Alastor’s here yet?”

“Why, I would like to believe I’m here, darling.” The Radio Demon formed in front of you. Husk muttered something toward your direction, Alastor’s grin sharpening at the action. “I’ve brought along some acquaintances if you don’t mind.”

You look up before sipping your drink. “Yeah, what you’ve brought is a doll, a moth, and a tv— Ow.” You rubbed your arm where Husk jabbed you, glaring at him.

Your eyes drifted toward the three demons Alastor brought with him, tilting your head at the height differences. You learned that the shortest amongst them was Velvette. Out of the three of them, she seemed to be the one with the most fashion sense as she nitpicked everyone else’s clothing in the establishment. Her accent was heavy, leaving you to wonder what she said half of the time.

“Oh god, that bitch is wearing wrist ruffles! Someone burn it.” She spoke in distaste at the demon.

“Vel, she’s already wasted, don’t give her any more ideas.” The moth blew out pink smoke, watching the young demon stumble across the dance floor.

For a moth, he was the tallest demon between the three of them, towering over everyone even while sitting. He introduced himself to be Valentino… The porn demon. He gave you goosebumps from sitting across you. And for being the princess of hell, that means a lot. He seemed to be eyeing all the younger demons, his single gold tooth flashing when he grinned at them.

“Val, come dance with me.” Velvette dragged him out of the booth, not waiting for a response. “Voxy, you’re welcome to join.”

You shifted your gaze over to the TV demon, watching him politely decline the offer. He definitely kept you guessing. When you first saw him, he was reserved and only spoke to those he came with. However, he eventually started to loosen up, taking shots with Valentino. And for a demon with a TV box for a head, he was quite interesting.

“You’re not gonna dance?” You stir your red straw in your drink, catching the demon’s attention. “It seemed like Velvette wanted you to join them.”

“Dancing with big crowds isn’t my thing.” He swirled a claw over the rim of his glass and met your eyes. “What about you?”

“What about me?” Your eyes drift over to Husk ordering another whiskey at the bar, Alastor hot on his tail.

“Why aren’t you dancing?”

“I wasn’t up to it, but now that you mention it—“ You tilted your head back and downed your drink, not noticing the glitching TV beside you. “—You have to come dancing with me.”

“I don’t think—“

You click your tongue, pushing your drink away. “Just one song? If you don’t want to, you can leave when we get there.” You take his hand and pout, using the face your father gave you to make it more convincing. “Please?”

He huffed but let you drag him to the dance floor, moving his hand to your hip when you hit the center of the huge crowd. “You know, I’m starting to think he just invited me out to be more social with his friends.”

“Al and I are barely friends, but how is that working out for you?” You question as the red light glares against your skin.

He shrugged as his voice dripped with sarcasm. “Depends on how well I’ve been talking to the people he introduced me to.” He tugged you closer to you when drunk demons pushed against your body. “Do you even remember my name?”

You open your mouth but promptly shut it, cheeks flushed at the confrontation. “I know it! I just… Don’t want to say it.”

“Holy shit, you don’t know my name.” He spun you in his arms, smirking at your pink face. “It’s Vox, by the way.”

“I knew that.” You say with a teasing tone, laughing when he dipped you. “I bet you don’t know my name.”

Your name fell from his mouth smoothly, making you scoff in annoyance. “I believe everyone knows who you are, princess.”

You avoided his gaze after the nickname spilled out of his lips. Sure, you were called princess multiple times by many demons. But the way Vox said it made butterflies appear in your stomach, a different kind of goosebumps appearing across your skin.

As the song came to an end, you learned a lot more about the TV demon in front of you within those last six minutes than you learned from Husk in the last two years. Returning to your booth, your phone vibrated in your pocket as you excused yourself from your company. Charlie’s name lit up your screen, making you curse.

You went back over to the booth to find Vox covering your unfinished drink with his hand, glancing at his own phone. “Hey, I have to go. Sorry for cutting our discussion short. My sister called and—“

“Don’t worry! It’s not an issue! Your family is clearly important sooo…” Vox rubbed the back of his neck, tugging at the turtleneck. “Before you go, can I ask you something?”

“What’s up?” You look back up at him after shooting a text to Charlie.

His screen turned pink as your attention went back to him, all confidence leaving his system. “I was wondering if you would like to meet up again. Sometime? Not in a club possibly?”

Your face warms at his words, at a loss for your own response. “Uh.. Yes! Of course, let me just get your contact info.”

“Right!” He felt the inside of his jacket for a pen, taking your hand a scribbling down his number. “Just give me a call whenever you can.”

You smiled at how fast he switched from confident to shy within seconds. “Of course.”

“Oh my god.” You mumble as you watch your father converse with the store’s employees animatedly, rubbing your temples at the sight.

Charlie snickered at your expression as he summoned a rubber duck he was working on. “You can’t tell me you weren’t expecting this when we went out today.”

“No, I knew.” You turn away from your father’s embarrassing encounter and flick through different dresses on the rack behind you instead. “I think knowing this would happen made it a hundred times worse.”

Since Lilith left, Lucifer took it upon himself to treat his daughters out to buy their own clothing at least once a month. He just always got distracted by showing other demons his creations.

“Char, do you think I could pull this off?” You pull a dress from the rack and put it against yourself, staring at the mirror with your nail between your teeth. You quite liked it, but you weren’t sure if you would wear it more than once—

“Personally, I think you would look amazing.” A voice that was distinctly not Charlie came from your left.

You whipped your head over as your face reddened at the TV demon. “Shut up, Vox.”

“I’m serious! You would look great in that.” He fully came into your view, pressing a soft kiss to your cheek. “Didn’t expect to see you today.”

Humming, you walk back over to the rack and examine the rest of the dresses, Vox close behind. “My dad wanted to take Charlie and I out.” You glanced up at him when you pulled out a maroon dress, silently asking for his opinion. “What are you doing here?”

“Well, this is Velvette’s own designer store.” He cleared his throat, eyes darting toward the sign that had his business partner’s name under it. “She sent me to check on the stock or something.”

“Did you?” You question as you scan over the prices on the dresses, clicking your tongue. “Check on whatever she needs you to check on, I mean?”

He shrugged, “You distracted me, princess.”

You flush pink again at the name, bumping him with your hip. “Go do your job, Vox.”

“It’s not my fault I saw you!”

“Yes, it is!” You tease with an accusatory finger to his chest. “I’m an innocent bystander—“

Charlie rounded the corner of the store looking for you, eyes brightening when seeing your figure. “Hey, dad’s asking for you— Oh!” You and Vox separated swiftly, eyes wide at the young Morningstar. “Uh, am I.. interrupting something? Orrr…?”

“No no, you’re fine, Charlie.” Your face remained warm, not meeting your sister’s eyes. An awkward silence filled the room before Vox cleared his throat, making you spring into action. “Right! Charlie, this is Vox. Vox, Charlie.”

“It’s nice to meet you, Charlie.” Vox gave her a polite smile, squeezing your hip. “Your sister talks a lot about you.

Charlie practically glowed at the confession, looking over at you for confirmation. “It’s nice to meet you as well!” She glanced at the two of you in suspicion. “I’m sorry to cut your… Meeting? Uh, short, but our dad needs her…”

Vox squeezed your hip one last time before pressing a quick kiss to your temple, soft static emitting from the spot. “I’ll text you later.”

“Bye.” You give him a lovesick look as you nod, walking over to a grinning Charlie.

“Soooo…” Charlie looked back, watching the TV demon’s screen become crimson with small electric hearts appearing. “Who was that?”

“Vox.”

She rolled her eyes at your bluntness, “Okay, obviously! But who is he?”

You fiddle with the hangers in your arms, not meeting her eyes. “He’s a guy… That I’m seeing… Currently…”

“Oh. My. Gosh!” She squeezed your arm with excitement, bouncing with every step. “Why didn’t you tell me? That’s super exciting!”

“I didn’t want Dad to find out.” You shake your head at the thought. “He’s been a bit overprotective with who we hang out with recently.”

Speak of the devil, he’ll appear.

“GIRLS! COME MEET THIS NICE YOUNG WOMAN!”

You and Charlie looked at each other while wincing, slowly approaching your father.

“Charlie!” You yell from your bathroom, rushing over to your walk-in closet. You sift through your dresses, looking for the maroon dress.

“What?” She yelled from your bedroom, giving KeeKee stomach rubs.

Swiftly, you snatch the dress off the hanger and run back over to the bathroom, throwing your towel over the shower and slipping into the dress. “Can you run downstairs and make sure Dad doesn’t open the door? Vox is coming to pick me up—“

“Why can’t you do it?” She groaned, flopping down onto your bed

“Because I’m not done dressing!” Your eyes flash red in annoyance with small horns poking out of your head as you peek over at the young demon. “The staff has the day off today because it’s the end of the month, and I really don’t want Dad to open the door.”

Charlie muttered something incoherent before leaving the room, KeeKee right by her heels. To be fair, you were a little rude, but you had the right to be. You were terrified for your father to meet Vox. Not that Vox was horrible, but your father's protectiveness started to rise much faster these last couple of months. As you were finishing up your makeup, your phone rang, followed by a groan coming out of your mouth.

“Hello?” You picked up your phone, slipping on your red heels and gold jewelry.

“Hi, princess.” Vox’s voice came through the cellular device, making you smile.

“Are you here already?” You glance at the clock in your room and curse at the time, running down the stairs.

He chuckled awkwardly, “Yeah, but uhm, your dad looks like he’s gonna kill me.”

“Fuck, okay, give me a second.” You shut your phone and open a portal to the front door instead of running all the way down to the foyer. “Hey, Dad!”

“Sweetie, who the hell is this guy?” Lucifer glared at the TV demon. Vox buffered at the comment, embarrassment filling his system.

You wedge yourself in between the two, whispering an apology to Vox. “Dad, this is Vox. Vox, my dad..”

“It’s nice to meet you, Mister Morningstar.” Vox offered his hand but slowly lowered it as he received no reaction.

“Uh-huh.” Lucifer looked at him up and down. “And who exactly is he?”

You hold the urge to laugh at how similar Charlie was to your father but snap back to reality when you hear Vox’s fans turn on.

“He’s my…” You glance back at the demon behind you before down at your father, linking your hands with Vox’s. “Vox is my boyfriend.”

“Your what now?” He stared at you with wide eyes, gaze shifting from the now bright pink demon to his darling daughter.

“My boyfriend.” You say again with more assurance. “We’ve been together a bit after Alastor introduced us—“

“The radio demon?” Lucifer made a face of disgust. “Okay, well you can come back inside the house and you—“ He pushed Vox out while pulling you in. “—Can leave my property.”

“Dad!” You tug Vox back to your side, apologizing once more for your father’s actions. “I’m going out with him tonight.”

“Oh, c’mon. He’s associated with the stupid radio—“

“I’m friends with Alastor!” Your eyes flash red again but calmed once Vox squeezes your hand. You blink before speaking again, taking a deep breath. “Listen, can I just go out? I’ll be back later.”

Lucifer sighed, rubbing his temple. “You’re happy? He makes you happy?”

You nod while smiling up at Vox, “Very.”

“And you’ll watch over her?” He looked over at Vox, brow raised at the demon.

“Yes, sir.” Vox squeezed your hand again.

He bit back any words of annoyance and gave a strained smile to the both of you. “Have fun on your date, sweetheart.”

You grinned and pulled him in for a hug, “Thank you! Love you!”

“Alright, just be back by midnight.” He flicked his hand which set a timer over the doorway. “Be safe.”

“We will!” You take Vox’s hand again and drag him away from the door. “That was easy.”

Vox furrowed his brows at your statement, wrapping his arm around your hip. “For you, maybe. He looked like he wanted to murder me.”

You shrug your shoulders, “You’ll get used to it.” You give him a proper look, tugging at his tie when you thought you were far enough from your father’s gaze. “You look handsome as always.”

“You look…” He pulled you close by the waist, smirking as you flushed red. “Beautiful.”

You push up on your toes and press a kiss to his lips, hands coming up to the sides of his screen. He hummed and pulled you closer, thumbs rubbing circles by your hip.

“HEY! BACK UP, BUDDY!” Lucifer yelled from the door, full demon form out on display.

You chuckle when Vox glitches, patting his chest. “Sorry, handsome.”

“STAY TEN FEET AWAY FROM HER!”

Rolling your eyes, you turn around and let your own demon form come out. “DAD!”

©lqveharrington - all rights reserved. do not copy, translate or share my work on other media platforms

[ronearoundblindly]

Lexi's Monthly Edit

July 1st - July 28th, 2024

In case you missed any of the new posted content this month, here's a handy-dandy list--some with short excerpts--and links to all of them.

Below the cut you'll find 5 fics and 3 ficlets for your enjoyment!

He Needs the Calories, one-shot Steve Rogers & Reader humor

Steve's eyes shift guiltily from where you stand to the fridge and back. You drop the bag of peanut butter chocolate chip treats and step backward to open the french doors. "What's in here, Steve?" "Nothing," he rushes. "What's in the fridge, Steve?!"

Take My Whole Life, Too, part one, a Fools Rush In tale (mature) Steve Rogers x lab tech!Reader's honeymoon

“I almost can’t believe it,” Steve says quietly. “Believe what?” He could mean the beauty of the sky, or that Tony knocked it out of the park with your escape of a honeymoon, or that he didn’t croak instead of getting through all those mental and physical hurtles to be with you. You’re just not sure. Personally, you’ve ‘almost not believed it’ since the Captain America started talking to you, so it’s hard to judge. Steve doesn’t answer right away. His voice grows even softer. “Happy. That’s all.”

Yield, a sequel to Warning Signs Steve Rogers x Avenger!Reader hurt/comfort

In your months of working with the Avengers, the captain has never once casually assigned an endearment. He says ‘ma’am’ more often than not and barely has nicknames for the teammates he’s worked with for a decade.  Everyone is Agent, Sir, or Miss. Your last name has always been enough. You were none of those things last night. You survived a horrid battle, a crippling loss, and a solitude which almost drowned you; it’s silly to admit how he heals your wounds with one simple word. Sweetheart.

Entwined (mature) Nomad Steve Rogers x Reader smut

Not until the second arm is secured all the way down, his hands reaching past the seat to the chair legs, does Steve’s breathing pick up, audible huffs with every exhale, his abs jumping every so often. If he expands his lungs fully, the rope strains, digging into his skin. The taboo nature of giving up and giving in has become a favorite release of his. You feel honored to be entrusted with this secret, and the most important part is, none of this makes Steve weaker or darker. He simply likes to sit still, take a backseat, and enjoy experiencing your enjoyment. He allows his mind to go blank. Only then will his body be drained of the thick tar of war and refilled with the electric arousal of now.

I Left You Something On The Body, part of No Promises (mature) Lloyd Hansen x rival assassin!Reader

At some point, you can’t tell if you two are letting each other get places first on not. The money is, oddly, totally irrelevant, and your career takes on a renewed joy. Lloyd claims a target. You show up, kill them, and drop off an intricately-packaged Gucci jock strap with “Eat Me” embroidered at the back of the waistband, right above his asshole.

Firefighter!Curtis, a blurb-inspired ask Curtis Everett x Reader AU

Gif-Inspired Drabble for It Had To Be You (mature) CEO!Steve Rogers x CEO!Reader

Mermaid Feelings Headcanon for Sun, Salt, and Shield Steve Rogers x deep sea mermaid!Reader

[Main Masterlist; Light Masterlist; Ko-Fi]

A/N: That's actually a decent amount yet, for some reason, feels like nothing...😢