Esther - 28 - she/her - FR - there is smut in this blogReading and rebloging things about clones
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I love him, your honor ! ☝️💚🔥
Spotless Mind. 💭
Pairing: Gregor x F!Reader
Warnings:(18+) mention of death, mourning a past lover, kissing, loving caresses, PinV, slight exhibitionism(fucking where you shouldn’t), apprehensive about forming new relationships.
Summary: Gregor noticed a beautiful but lonely regular that would unknowingly order his favorite dessert on the menu: the sweet and sour fruit tart with a side of fluffy cream. Always with a piping hot cup of caf to drink. A bittersweet combination that drove him to learn more about you. Only, your interaction wouldn’t stop at this late night snack.
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My kofi ✨
Afficher davantage
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You know, I needed to read something like that, I'm alwyas self-deprecating myself and I'm not often really reminded of what I'm capable of, of my real value, so it's a sweet feeling trop read something like that, especially from Tech 💚
Falling for you🌠
Pairing: Tech x F!Reader
Warnings: fluff, angst, mutual pining, injury from slipping/falling/low voltage electrocution, general awkwardness, insecure, comfort and reassurance, a couple swear words, a kiss.
Summary: You’re new to the Bad Batch crew and quite eager to prove your worth. Unfortunately, you are prone to mistakes and you’ve had your fair share of accidents while being in their presence. Nothing life-threatening or detrimental, but enough for you question your position in the group.
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My kofi ✨
Afficher davantage
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Me after reading this ! How can this be worse for them ? (stupid question , it can always be worse) ...
Liar Liar (Part 11/?)
Part 11 - No Going Back // <<< part 10
🫧 Pairings: Commander Fox X Female Reader
🫧 Chapter Summary: A strange run-in with Stone seems to settle some nerves and an accidental confession leaves Fox aching for more.
🫧 Warnings: more angst, accidental feeling confessions.

“I wish you’d cheer up.”
You blink, jerked from your thoughts. “Huh?”
Stone huffed. “See? You’re not even paying attention.”
You were half a step behind him as you both made your way down the corridor, arms full of reports you were delivering for some dull errand. Stone had been chatting nonstop. Something about Thorn, cafeteria food conspiracies, and maybe something involving an ill-fated training drill—but the words had just buzzed around your ears like background noise. You hadn’t heard a single thing. Your brain had been… elsewhere.
“Sorry,” you muttered, nudging his arm with your elbow. “Just got a lot on my mind.”
Stone gave you a long look, one brow slowly arching. You could practically hear the gears turning in his head—and then, of course, the sheepish smile followed.
“What?” you asked, suspicious.
“That ‘lot’ on your mind wouldn’t happen to be a 6 foot tall something, wears red, commands a battalion and acts allergic to feelings, would it?”
You stopped in your tracks, eyes narrowing. “No.”
He smirked like he’d won a lifetime supply of rations. “Sure. And I didn’t overhear you and Thire talking the other day.”
You groaned and covered your face with one hand. “About what, exactly?”
Stone made a vague gesture. “Y’know. You and Commander Doom ‘n Gloom’ .”
“Something did happen,” you admitted through gritted teeth, although you wish more of the guys would stop catching wind about it. “But I’m not going into it, so wipe that stupid grin off your face and let’s just drop it.”
“Alright, alright,” he said, raising both hands in surrender, but his grin didn’t budge. “Just saying. I think you two would actually make a good pair.”
“Stone.”
“I’m just saying.”
“Stone.”
“You’ve got that whole ‘irresistible tension’ thing going on. Very holodrama.”
You threw your head back and groaned as you resumed walking. “Kriff’s sake…”
But even as you tried to laugh it off, your chest still ached from your recent run-in with Fox.
The memory of it stung. Badly. It was the day after 79’s, a few days ago now, and he’d cornered you in a hallway, posture stiff, voice tense even through the filter of his helmet.
“The woman at the bar,” he’d said abruptly. “She was just a civvie. Thanking me. That’s all.”
You’d tried to keep your voice neutral, indifferent. “It’s none of my business, anyway.”
“But Hound said you—” he hesitated. “He said you were crying.”
You cursed Hound’s name internally.
You looked at Fox, bitterness pressing against your ribs. “Maybe I was. Maybe I had a right to be.”
His posture had wavered for a split second, and then he’d leaned in, voice low. “Can we talk? Just… privately. Please.”
Stars, how you wanted to say yes. But it was the part of you that still ached that answered. “I don’t think that’s a good idea, Commander.”
“Fox,” he corrected quietly.
You swallowed hard. “It doesn’t matter. I don’t want to go through this again.”
“I didn’t handle things right,” he said. “But if I could just—”
“You had plenty of time to explain,” you cut in, barely above a whisper.
He looked like he wanted to argue. But he didn’t. He just deflated a little, shoulders sagging.
“…Is this your final decision?”
You hadn’t answered. Couldn’t. You’d just looked away, whispered something about getting back to work, and left him standing there.
And now, days later, the conversation was still looping in your head like a broken holotape.
You and Stone finally reached the destination for your delivery. It was a quiet, empty records office and you had to refrain from grimacing because it smelt bad. Like, really bad.
“Huh,” you then murmured, scanning the room. “Wasn’t someone supposed to meet us here to sign off?”
Stone shrugged, already leaning against the nearest desk and lazily inspecting his blaster. “Maybe they forgot. Or maybe I’m too intimidating.”
You raised a brow. “You got chewed out yesterday for not cleaning your weapon properly.”
He huffed. “I’m working on it. ” He waves his blaster in his hand at you.
You rolled your eyes and dropped the reports onto the desk, glancing uneasily at the vents above. The hair on the back of your neck prickled. “I don’t like just leaving these out here. It feels… off.”
Stone waved it off. “Relax. I do this kind of thing all the time. Besides, what’s gonna happen? A paperwork bandit crawls out of the air ducts and steals the mission reports?”
As if summoned, a loud clang echoed above your heads.
Both of you froze.
“…Okay. If that’s the bandit, I take it back,” Stone said, already on his feet, blaster drawn.
“You heard that too?” you asked, stepping back.
“Affirmative. Get behind me.”
You did as he said, heart racing as Stone climbed onto a nearby crate to reach the vent. He glanced at you, holding up a hand for you to stay where you were, then opened the latch and flicked on his torch.
There was a long, tense moment as he leaned in.
“Stone?” you whispered. No answer.
Then—
PEW!
You flinched at the sharp sound of a stun blast. “Wh-What was it?!”
Stone didn’t respond at first. He shifted forward, grunting as he dragged something towards him. Then he jumped down and turned toward you, holding it by the legs like a wriggly, ugly prize.
You blinked. “Is that a… hawk-bat?”
He nodded. “Looks like a baby one. Underfed, too.”
You stepped closer, frowning. That’s what I’ve been hearing? That thing’s been crawling around the walls?
He held it out, watching it sway in its stunned state. “You wanna keep it? Call it something cute, like Gremlin?”
You chuckled. “I think Fox would be a better name.”
Stone returns the laugh, smirking. “Definitely looks like him too, he's been a mess lately.” And for some reason, that didn’t make you laugh like perhaps he thought it would.
“Is he?”
Stone nods. “Sure. Not sleeping, drinking an unhealthy amount of caf - worse than usual. That prisoner's disappearance has really done a number on him.” Stone says almost casually, lifting the creatures leathery like wings to take a look and then he looks at you. “And I suppose if you have broken his heart then add that to the list, too.”
“I haven’t broken his heart,” you roll your eyes but still frown at everything else, “we should take this somewhere, set it free once we know it’s healthy.”
Stone nods in agreement, saying that he knew where to take it.
So the two of you leave the office, hawk-bat in hand. But still, your eyes drifted back to the vents above. Something still didn’t sit right. And not just about hawk-bats.
⋅⋅ ───⊱༺ 🦊 ༻⊰───⋅⋅
You and Stone were halfway back to your main station, still carrying the stunned hawk-bat when something made you slow down. Your eyes drifted across the corridor where you see tucked just out of plain sight, Fox and Thorn. Thorn’s arms were moving a lot, sharp gestures like he was making a point, while Fox stood still, head tipped forward slightly like the weight of it all was finally pressing down on him.
Stone noticed too. “That’s a serious-looking powwow.”
You didn’t answer. You were too focused on how different Fox looked. Slumped shoulders. Arms folded tight across his chest. Even from a distance, he looked worn down. Tired in a way caf couldn’t fix. Stone had been right, he did look a mess and so you forced yourself to look away.
Once back at your station, you handed off the hawk-bat to one of the medtechs with instructions to keep it warm and fed. At least that solved the weird banging noises you had been hearing.
As you settled into your desk, Thire suddenly called your name.
You looked over to see him nodding toward the corridor where Fox and Thorn had been standing. “What do you reckon that’s about?” he asked.
“I… don’t know,” you murmured, gaze flickering back toward them. “Something serious.”
You sat back down, fingers moving to the console but your thoughts weren’t on the reports. They were on Commander Fox. A strange guilt started bubbling low in your chest, but you shoved it aside and focused on your screen.
Until you felt a hand on your shoulder.
You stiffened and turned. Thorn stood behind you, visor locked on. “Come with me.”
You blinked, confused. “Uh, okay…?”
You followed him quietly, heart beginning to thrum faster the closer you got to the corner where Fox still stood. Thorn didn’t say a word, just guided you to stand directly in front of the pair of them. The air was thick with something heavy and Fox still wasn’t looking at you.
You looked between them both, brows furrowing after a moment too long of silence. “Am I in trouble?”
Thorn’s voice was level but pointed. “Are you going to tell her, or am I?”
Fox exhaled hard, clearly agitated. “You can do it.”
That tiny flare of nerves that had been simmering erupted into something worse. Panic.
Thorn didn’t waste time. “We’ve been tracking the system disruptions for a while now. The failures. The delays. It turns out that all of them… came from your station.”
You blinked, completely taken aback. “Wait, what? My station?”
“Your terminal’s been used as the access point for multiple data breaches,” Thorn said. “The logs line up. And the signature pattern matches your ID.”
“That’s not possible,” you said quickly, voice rising. “I��I haven’t done anything. I wouldn’t do anything like that.”
“We’re not accusing you. Not directly,” Thorn said evenly. “But this is serious. And it’s coming from your end.”
You looked at Fox. Desperate. “Commander, you know me. You know I wouldn’t do this.”
But he didn’t even speak.He didn’t even lift his head.
The silence from him was louder than any accusation Thorn could’ve thrown. Your breath hitched in your throat, something like betrayal creeping up your spine.
“…Fox?” you asked, quieter now. Pleading. “Please.”
His helmet shifted slightly, as if he wanted to say something but whatever it was, it died in his throat.
That was worse than shouting. Worse than suspicion. He didn’t believe you. Or maybe worse was that he did —but he didn’t trust himself enough to say it out loud.
You sucked in a breath, steeling yourself. “Am I fired?”
Your voice came out calmer than expected, and weirdly—there were no tears. Not yet. Maybe you’d cried them all out for the man who couldn’t even look at you now.
Thorn shifted uncomfortably, glancing at Fox and then back to you. “No. Fox convinced me not to terminate your position.”
Of course he did.
The silent executioner.
“But,” Thorn continued, “I have to escalate this. The breach came from your system, and until the investigation clears, you’ll be reassigned to another station.”
You let out a breathless, disbelieving laugh. “So let me get this straight—you think I’m too dangerous to be here, but I’m safe enough to just be dumped in another corner of the building? Sure. That tracks.”
Thorn hesitated, visibly uncomfortable. “I… didn’t say it like that.”
You turned to Fox then, who had finally raised his head. Not quite looking at you, but closer. “If you’re so worried about trust, Thorn,” you said coldly, “maybe take a good look at the man standing next to you.
Fox’s shoulders squared instantly like your words hit him physically. He stood up straighter, but you didn’t give him the satisfaction of your gaze. Not now.
You turned on your heel and stormed off, boots echoing with fury down the corridor until you slammed back into the station. Heads turned. Conversations dropped.
Stone raised an eyebrow as you marched to your desk, grabbing a crate. “Uh—what’s going on?”
“Moving,” you snapped.
“M-Moving where?” Thire blinked, hurrying over.
“A different station.” Your voice cracked a little from the sheer force of holding everything in. “Apparently I’m a security risk.”
Grizzer whimpered at your feet, sensing the tension, but you stepped over him as you shoved datapads and personal items into the crate. Hound blocked your path for a second before you brushed past him too.
“They think I can’t be trusted,” you muttered, teeth clenched. “Apparently every damn system breach came from my terminal.”
Stone shook his head, eyes wide. “That’s impossible. We would’ve noticed—”
“Yeah, well,” you scoffed bitterly, “apparently I’m real good at flying under the radar.”
“You need to talk to Fox,” Hound said, frowning. “He’ll fix this.”
You gave a sharp, mirthless laugh. “Oh, I did. Or tried to. But it turns out he’s good at being speechless when it matters.”
Hound opened his mouth again, but you cut him off, voice rising with each word. “He had plenty of chances. When he lied. When he said it didn’t mean anything. When he watched me get blamed for something I didn’t even do!”
Thire approached you gently, resting a hand on your shoulder. “Just calm down for a second, okay? We’ll figure it out.”
“Calm down?” You turned on him, eyes wide and blazing. “They’ve accused me of screwing up everything . You want me to calm down? Would you be calm if your name was dragged through the mud without even a shred of defense from the person who—”
You stopped yourself, swallowing hard as the floodgate cracked.
You dropped the next item into the crate harder than you meant to, rattling the others.
“And Fox?” You spat his name like venom. “I have never in my life met someone so disloyal. He lies for weeks, strings me along like I mean nothing. Then stands there mute when I need him most? Screw him.”
No one moved. Even Grizzer stayed perfectly still, ears back. The three clones stood in stunned silence, watching you as if you had grown an extra head.
You turned, ready to storm out only to freeze in place as he - the very topic of conversation - stood in the doorway, silent and unmoving. He must’ve heard every word. Good.
For a second, no one breathed. You stared at him, seething. “Oh, if it isn’t the bubble-brain himself,” you sneered, lifting the crate in your arms. “Come to lend a hand, or just here to make sure I don’t steal anything on the way out?”
Fox stared you down, visor locked onto you and only you. The boys behind you shifted awkwardly, the air thick with unspoken words. You huffed, throwing your hands up.
“Yes? No?” you bit out, answering the question for him.
Fox hesitated then sighed, stepping aside wordlessly to let you pass.
The silence that followed was almost heavier than the tension before it. Thorn shook his head, watching Fox retreat toward his desk.
“What the are you doing, Fox?” he demanded.
“What choice do I have?” Fox grunted, his armour clinking as he moved stiffly.
“Go after her!” Thire snapped, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. “This is your last chance.”
Fox’s fists slammed down onto the desk, the crack echoing through the room and cutting them all off.
“You heard what she said!” he barked. His voice cracked through the modulator—frayed, exhausted, broken. He dropped his head into his hands for a moment before dragging them down his helmet with a long, heavy sigh. “It’s done. It’s been done.”
Then he lifted his gaze to Hound, sharp and bitter. “And you—you weren't doing me any favours filling my head with ideas that she still cared. She doesn't.”
“She’s angry ,” Hound said firmly, stepping forward. “Because you didn’t stand by her. Not because she doesn’t care.”
Fox’s jaw locked hard enough you could almost hear the grind of his teeth. His helmet tilted, staring at the door you had stormed through.
“I’m tired, Hound,” he muttered.
“So is she,” Stone said, quieter this time. “Tired of fighting battles you make her fight alone. Just apologise. Be the man she knows you are.”
Fox's hands balled into fists again. “How can I fix it when she thinks I’m the most disloyal bastard she’s ever met?”
The others went silent. No one had an answer for that.
Fox let out another sharp breath, shoving back from the console. His body was tense, his movements mechanical—but after a second of pacing like a caged animal, he cursed under his breath and made for the door at a near-run.
He searched every corridor, panic blooming tighter in his chest with each wrong turn. Fifth hallway down, he caught sight of you. Crate in your arms. Walking fast.
He called your name.
You slowed, just for a second, your head tilting back over your shoulder. But when you saw it was him, you immediately turned back around, quickening your pace.
Fox jogged after you, closing the distance fast. He skidded in front of you, blocking your path. You scowled. “Move.”
“Just give me a second.” His voice was rawer now. “Let’s talk. Properly.”
You hesitated. Sighed. Then took a step back, shifting the crate’s weight in your arms, your exhaustion written in every line of your body. “Fine. Talk.”
Fox stood there a beat too long, fidgeting like he was physically holding himself together. You noticed his hands shake slightly at his sides. The great Commander Fox, reduced to nerves in your presence.
"I..." His voice faltered before he swallowed hard and forced it out. "I tried. I know you’re not responsible for the leaks. Any of it. And I’m sorry I didn’t speak up sooner. I spent days convincing Thorn not to have you fired.”
You stared at him, dead-eyed. “Am I supposed to thank you for that?”
Fox bit his tongue, chest rising and falling heavily. “No. I just—I don’t want you thinking I don’t believe you.”
“You could’ve said something,” you muttered, shaking your head, shifting the crate again. “You’ve never been the type to shut up when it mattered. I’ve worked for you for years. I know you.”
"If that's all..." you added, voice rough, "I'll be on my way."
You went to move past him—but he caught your sleeve.
“I’m not done.”
Reluctantly, you turned back to him.
Fox’s shoulders stiffened. He scanned the hallway quickly, making sure no one was around before he spoke.
“I’m sorry,” he said again, quieter now. “About what I did to you. About… Whisky. About everything.” His hands fisted and flexed at his sides. “I don’t know why I made him up. Maybe I just wanted—needed—you to look at me the way you did that night.”
You swallowed hard.
“When you came to me at 79’s,” he continued, voice fraying at the edges, “I thought you knew it was me. And I just got caught up in a lie, second guessing myself of how you would have acted if you knew the truth. I wanted you to believe it was me. Because it was."
The silence between you was unbearable.
You shifted the crate higher in your arms, biting back a wave of emotion. “Let’s just forget it happened, Commander.”
“Fox,” he corrected immediately. “I told you. Call me Fox.”
You clenched your jaw, staring up at him through lashes thick with unshed tears.
“Let’s forget it happened, Fox ,” you corrected hollowly. “I’ve gotten over Whisky… and maybe moving stations is a good thing.” Your voice wavered, cracking right down the center. “Because now I can finally get over you too.”
Fox's eyes widened behind his helmet, it hit him like a punch to the gut.
“Get over me?” Fox repeated, stunned. He took an automatic step forward, towering over you. “What do you mean—?”
You dropped your gaze, heart pounding so hard you thought he could hear it.
“N-nothing. I need to go.” You tried to step past him again but this time he stopped you with a hand at your waist.
You froze. The heat of his touch burned right through the layers of cloth, igniting something you had tried so hard to bury. A shudder tore through you.
“Please…” he murmured, voice almost wrecked. “Tell me. Did you… did you ever feel something for me? As me?”
You looked down at his hand—then back up at him. “I guess I did,” you whispered, the confession leaving your lips like a wound torn open. The anger, the jealousy, the heartache, it was because of Fox. “But it’s all changed now.”
Fox sucked in a sharp breath, taking another step closer, his entire frame blotted out the corridor, your world reduced to his red armour and the familiar scent you had now realised to have missed so much.
“It doesn’t have to,” he rasped. “You can trust me. You can—"
You closed your eyes tightly, inhaling the scent that broke you all over again. It was the same one that had clung to you in the meadow, in the cab, on the nights you let yourself dream he was yours.
“That’s the thing, Fox,” you breathed, voice almost breaking. “I can’t. I look at you and I just think back to when I opened myself up to you. When I told you that trust was everything to me. But when I look at you… all I see is a liar. And I can’t do that to myself again.”
Fox doesn’t let you go, not yet. His touch lingers a moment more on your waist as if savouring the feel of you so close before he takes a step away, his hand slipping back to his side. “I respect your decision. I hope… I hope that you will be happier.”
“Yeah,” you sniff, moving past him for the last time, “me too.”
Tags:
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Oh well 👀👌🔥
Quick and Dirty
Pairing: Tech x Reader
Warnings: 18+ content, PinV unprotected, smut, recorded sex, groping, refresher sex, quickie(kinda)
Inspired by the setting of episode 2 of the Bad Batch(but imagery from episode 8 😜wykyk)
Summary: It was a slow and scorching day on Saleucami for the Bad Batch. Tech took it upon himself to task you both with running diagnostics on the Marauder as well as any calibrations that were needed before your departure. The narrow working conditions left little space between you both, coupled with the heat wave(your arousal) and getting covered in grease and sweat, he was aching to freshen up but not before you ask him if you could join him.
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I will never have enough of this, I had butterflies in my belly while reading 👌💚
A Second Chance
Rating: 18+, Minors do NOT read
Pairing: TBB Echo x fem!reader
Wordcount: 7k
Warnings: Some sadness and pining, hurt/comfort, romance, friends to lovers, porn with plot...
A/N: Reader has hair but no further description. The story is settled somewhere before TBB S1 and after S3... and in my fantasy he'll always wear that damn sexy kama. Credit and a huuuge Thank you to @tecker for being an inspiration, muse, friend and part of my life.
Summary: Some things aren’t just meant to be... at least when it comes to Echo and you. Right?
The dark grey dust that was stirred up during landing has not yet had time to settle when the boarding ramp of the Remora lowers. Rex is the first to leave the ship. He nods politely your way as the clones step onto the surface of Yavin 4 one by one. But something about him seems to be different… somehow… constrained. Not only a second later, following in his wake, the Bad Batch appears. Hunter, Crosshair… and then... Luckily the ambient noise is so loud that no one can hear your gasp. Echo.
For a moment, he appears like a vision, blurred in the veil of dust. His head held high, his shoulders squared. The kama is gently swaying around his legs with every brisk step he takes down the ramp. Not... not again. Desperately, you try to ignore the stab in your heart. And yet, the very first glimpse of him feels so painful, so real, as if it were only yesterday. Yet it's been more than two years.
It was one of those hot summer nights on Coruscant. Once again, you were at 79s with friends, and once again, you spent the evening glancing over at him, furtively adoring him, until your friend finally gave you a little push in his direction.
“Come on! Go ahead and ask him if he wants to have a drink with you.”
“What do I do if he says no?”
“You’re kidding me? You did see the way he’s looking at you? Echo definitely won't say no.”
The way he’s looking at you?! No, you actually hadn't noticed, and the knowledge about it only made you more nervous than you already were. Especially with all the other women in the bar, who were buzzing around the boys in white, or in this case, black and red, like moths to a flame. And why had she suddenly known his name?
"Yeah… but… what am I even supposed to tell him? Excuse me... but I think I'm madly in love with you?" Your voice had vibrated with excitement and you had shaken your head, too embarrassed and unsure. "No. No, I can't."
"Hun..." Your friend's hands wrapped around your shoulders, giving you an encouraging squeeze.
"...just try the gentle approach. Tell him you've seen him before and you'd like to talk to him. And then... who knows what might happen?" She winked at you, and the next moment you found yourself eye to eye with the most attractive, most handsome man you'd ever met. Despite and because of the fact that he was a clone.
What followed was the best evening of your life up to that point. The two of you had sat at a small table in a booth at the edge of the bar, chatting. You had laughed together and... flirted. Or what else could you call it when he was hanging on your every word, literally... his eyes, that is... and he blushed whenever you caught him doing it and teased him a little by nibbling on said lips with your teeth.
Every now and then, his hand had found yours, his fingertips brushing against yours for a split second, each time lighting you up like a live wire. And each time, he'd pulled them back as if he'd burned himself on you. This mixture of boldness and shyness, his entire being dancing on a fine line of extremes. Simply ravishing.
And then... when the evening was almost over and it was time for you to leave...
"I have to go. Thank you so much for a truly lovely evening, mesh'la. It's so rare..." Echo shook his head and grinned at you, "that there are women in here who don't want to get laid by us clones right away. None of them see anything in me or my brothers other than a bargain. Or an opportunity to play with fire. Not one of them seems to care that there might already be someone in my life. You are so pleasantly different. That means a lot to me."
He stood up, and you did the same, the lump in your throat almost made you choke. But how could you have said anything other than what he wanted to hear when the gentle expression on his face revealed nothing but gratitude for your friendship? And so you swallowed your grief, careful not to let him see it, and gave him your brightest smile.
"Anytime. I hope to see you again, Echo. You know where to find me." With trembling fingers, you wrote down your personal com number for him.
"I'm looking forward to it."
For half a minute, he just stood there, gazing at you. There was a tinge of regret in his eyes. Or was that just your wounded vanity trying to deceive you? Suddenly, his arms were around you, his body as strong and sturdy and as close as he'd ever been before, and his lips were placing a peck on your cheek just below your ear.
"Ret'urcye mhi, mesh'la."
And then he was gone... and all you had left was the soft, warm feeling, the inkling of what could have been, on your skin.
Then the tears came.
And right now, you feel that kiss again, as if it were only minutes ago. And as always, the desire burns as hot as the grief on your cheek. At least you can hold back the tears, even when he's standing right in front of you: tall, strong, imposing.
"Hello."
Even if your voice sounds a little rough, you still can be proud of yourself that you've managed to get a word out at all. He doesn't seem to notice your inner struggle, instead he puts his arms around you in greeting and hugs you tightly, pulling you flash against him, as he always does. Well, to the unyielding plastoid armor. And as always, you return his gesture with a brave smile, wishing time would stand still for just a moment. It was Rex who told you long ago that Echo and his girlfriend broke off. And yet... Whatever you had hoped for, it never happened. Echo and you... you had never tested the boundaries of your friendship, let alone crossed them. He obviously wanted it that way, and you were never brave enough to reveal your true feelings to him. The chance had passed.
"Su'cuy, mesh'la." He swallows dryly. You can see his Adam's apple nervously rise and fall again.
A few seconds pass in silence, then a few more. Kriff, why is it so hard for you to act normal and easy-going around him? It was what you promised him. Friendship. While he spends his few free hours in someone else's bed... You almost sob, but you manage to pull yourself together just in time. Or not? He suddenly looks so self-conscious.
"Would you have...?"
Echo gives a weary sigh and breaks off, so unsure in stark contrast to his usual confident demeanor. The one that turns your knees to jelly every time you meet him. And now? Something's bothering him. You'd like to throw all restraint aside and clasp him in your arms for comfort, but you don't know if you'd be able to hold back then. In a way, the whole thing is even more... dangerous.
“Would I — what?” you try to help him, noticing how difficult it seems for him to continue speaking.
With a shy smile finally appearing on his face, he asks you, “Would you have a minute for me? I… um… would like to… um… talk to you.” After a quick glance over at his brothers, he adds, so quietly that you have trouble hearing, “Alone.”
“Sure.”
Weird. In all the years you've known each other, you've met, celebrated, and talked to each other many times. Though not as often as you would have liked. But not once has it felt like it does now. Somehow... precarious.
Echo starts walking, leading you away from the ship and the base, a little way into the surrounding jungle. You follow with a tight feeling in your chest. Did something go wrong on the last mission? No. The others all seemed normal when they left the ship, and you can make out a few new faces in the crowd of clones, which means this rescue mission was a success. So is it something personal that's bothering him? Kriff... he... he doesn't want to ask you for relationship advice or anything, does he?
About two minutes later - two endlessly long minutes in which the thoughts are spinning inside your head, wondering what he might want and why in the nine hells you feel like a terrified nuna, after all, you're taking a walk with a friend - he suddenly stops in a small clearing, turning to you, and regarding you intently. Almost like back on Coruscant... when...
Echo takes a step closer to you, and in that moment, in the amber gleam of his brown eyes, you recognize the same chaos of emotions raging within you. Or are you just imagining it? No. Suddenly, his voice sounds even deeper than usual. The timbre, already warm and soft, is even a touch softer. Your knees are now on the verge of giving way, and if it weren't for the thousand birdsongs and the chirping of insects, you'd be sure your heartbeat would be heard throughout the entire area.
“There's something I need to figure out.”
That doesn't sound good, does it?
Another small step closer. Now he's so close that you have to tilt your head back a little to maintain eye contact with him. The familiar scent mixed with traces of blaster residues, Echo's scent, suddenly envelops you like a soft veil, his warm breath wafting across your face and sending a shiver of excitement through your body. Whatever it’s happening here is so unprecedented, inappropriate in a sort of way, and so incredibly hot…
“A-And what would that be?”
While you're still trying to somehow comprehend the situation, to figure out whether this is a dream or reality, his left hand finds your neck and his fingers wind ever so gently into your hair, while his right arm wraps around your waist and pulls you closer. And then his lips are on yours. So soft and gentle. Tentative.
Maybe you would be shocked by the way things suddenly have changed between you, but in that moment your mind decided to stop working and your heart... With a quiet sigh you let yourself fall into the indescribable feeling of his closeness.
KARK.
Kark, kark, kark…
His eyes are still open, afraid that if he closes them, you might suddenly disappear. And so he can vaguely perceive how your shocked expression gives way to a sweet smile, while his own emotions rush over him like waves. For one thing, there's this overwhelming guilty conscience. He… he had one, no, a thousand reasons why he did not want to strike up a relationship with you. Why he didn't want to expose you to the danger that he is, to disappointment. For so long, he's remained strong, resisted the temptation, and stayed away from you. No matter how much it hurt him.
And how much he grated on his brothers’ nerves. Not a single day had gone by in the last few years without him mentioning you. Whether he was talking about what you had done or said in one situation or another, or whether he was wondering aloud what you were doing right now… unfortunately, he had voiced his thoughts unwittingly instead of just keeping them to himself. Your face appeared so bright and clear in his mind's eye when he was crouching in some shab’la cover, the plasma charges of blaster shots whizzing past him. Would you ever know what had become of him? Would you care? And as much as he wanted you to be the one he comes home to and holding him, he didn't want you to be the one who would undoubtedly cry for him one day.
Besides, you had said that you were friends. Friends. How could he have compromised what you had built up over the years, just like that? He felt cheap night after night, imagining you naked. He dreamed it wasn't his own hand touching himself and giving him what he craved, but your soft body. It was almost ridiculous how easily he could get into that mood and let himself be overcome by desire. He hated himself for it.
And even though he thought he had kept his feelings private, he couldn't fool Rex.
"Go and talk to her!"
"I can't. She... doesn't feel anything like that for me. Not..." He almost said, 'like I do feel for her,' but then he remembered that this should remain a secret he would take to his grave, and he fell silent. Rex gave him a smug grin. Kark! The two had known each other for so long, there was nothing he could keep a secret from his captain. Echo scowled.
"I won't let you continue destroying yourself with your self-imposed restraint, Echo. I won't let you endanger yourself or any of our brothers because you're zoned out!" Rex's eyes flashed dangerously.
"Sir... I..."
"That's an order. Kark, Echo! You're an ARC. Go and make do."
As if it were that simple. First of all, he was no longer an ARC, but just another clone among many, lucky enough to be half-cyborg instead of dead, no matter what Rex claimed otherwise, and secondly...
"What if she doesn't want me after all this time?" After all, years had passed since that summer night on Coruscant. And even though he remembered the glimmer in your eyes all too well... Things could be different by now.
"Why so sure?" Rex smiled once again and then turned away. Echo stayed behind. Confused. He wanted to run after him and ask how the captain knew he wouldn't leave a huge mess behind when he’d confront you and himself with the truth. But he didn't. Instead, he had spent hour after hour on the flight back, thinking about how to address you. Every word seemed too much and out of place.
But right now, you raise your hand to cup his cheek. He feels the careful movement of your thumb brushing against his stubble. The gentle tingling... The part of him that has fought time and again, the guilt, the question of whether it is right or wrong to be with you, lays down his arms, and Echo surrenders.
With a deep groan, he closes his eyes and pulls you even tighter to him. Holding you like this is both bliss and torture. He had fought it for so long. So long... The soft sound of his longing echoes between the two of you, tingling where his lips brush against yours like the gentle hint of something much more profound. When he finally, slowly pulls away from you, he's not the only one left breathless.
A second or two pass, yet it feels like an eternity, until you open your eyes and look up at him. His own tenderness and fear are reflected in your gaze. The coil in his chest tightens at the sight. The spark that has been ignited between the two of you all those years ago hadn't been extinguished. And yet...
"Echo." You whisper his name, and it feels like a gentle touch. "Did... did you find out what you wanted to know?"
"Hmmm." He carefully leans back a little and reluctantly releases you from his embrace. But in that same moment, he realizes he's made a mistake. He's only increased your self-doubt. Ner mirsh solus.
"I'm sorry. I... am a hypocrite. I should have told you, but I didn't mean..." he hears you stammer and curses himself for his insensitivity. You give him a long, fear-filled look from beneath your lowered lashes, and it seems to him as if you're peering directly into his soul, if he has one at all. "Please forgive me."
Everything, he would forgive you everything. But... A twinge of panic rises within him. You can't want that you both just continue as before. Cause he certainly can't. From the beginning, he knew that once he held you, he wouldn't be able to let go. Can't you see that? Can't you feel it? He'd always thought he was an open book to you. Now he sees how wrong he was.
"Cyar'ika," the sound of his voice is now husky, almost hoarse. His hand breaks free from its rigidity, gliding up the curve of your neck. Finally, his index finger slides under your chin, gently lifting it. "I've wanted to kiss you ever since the day you talked to me. I thought I'd missed my chance."
Well…
Who is this man you've pined after for so long, the man who consistently irritates you and yet captivated you from the very beginning? The man who doesn't just make your heart beat faster... The man who, despite everything you've experienced together, has left you in the dark about his true feelings. Until today... Until this very moment.
There's so much you could say in response. You could tell him that back then, you also had wanted nothing more than to kiss him. Or how often you've imagined this kiss in your dreams in the meantime. You could quip that he'd better get going now, after all, there's so much to catch up on. Or you could tell him that no matter how many chances he needs, you'll give them to him again and again, because no matter what… you could never give up on the dream of the two of you ending up as a couple. No matter how unlikely it is... was... But you can't utter a single damn word and remain silent. The words form a lump in your throat and make your lips tremble, while he still gently holds your chin up. Don't... don't cry.
For a while, the two of you just keep standing there, so close to each other, and all the sounds on the base are nothing more than a faint white noise in the background. You feel the comfort of his presence, giving you warmth and making you forget that you’ve been stricken by sorrow about him. Every damned, lonely night you spent without him fades into the sea of oblivion.
With a smile, you finally summon the courage to place your hands around his waist, touching the battered plastoid of his armor as gently as you've never touched it before. He answers your silent approach and embraces you. His hand wraps around the side of your ribcage, demure, yet close enough that you feel the warmth radiating onto your curves. His scomp mimics the touch, awkward yet eager.
"Do you know how many times I've wondered what it would be like to hold you in my arms? Not as a friend..."
His words elicit a soft gasp from you. And finally, finally, you find your voice again. Even if it’s still hesitant.
"What then?"
He doesn’t answer.
The tension between you is almost palpable, like he’s determined to hold onto it and drag it out as long as he can. You're aware that you're playing with fire, with the way you breathe the words. The way you look at him, pleading and challenging, and catching your lower lip between your teeth…
Almost forcefully he tears himself away from your gaze. Exuding his exciting, masculine scent, he lowers his head again to kiss you. And this time it's not a tentative touch, nor testing the waters. This time it's pure, desperate desire. Your body is about to combust as his tongue pushes itself insistently between your lips, tasting your passion. This kiss is long and deep and so much more.
Finally! A sweet shiver of arousal rushes through you. And his own, desperate arousal, presses against your stomach as you snuggle even closer to him. With gentle determination, his hand gropes its way down to your buttock, skirting it eventually. A pleasurable, unprecedented sensation pools in your core. So this is what it feels like…
"Echo..." The rest of whatever you were about to say fades into a stifled sigh as his hand resumes roaming, dipping under your tunic, and then slides up and further up, until it finally cups your curve. For a second, he hesitates, giving you the opportunity to retreat. Nothing is further from your mind. Then his thumb slowly brushes the spot where your bud peeks beneath the cotton of your bra. His soft touch makes it bloom and harden just for him.
"Echo..." Are...? 'Are we doing the right thing?' you want to ask, but all that slips out of your mouth is a moan of pleasure.
When he pulls away after what felt like eternity and yet could only be minutes, your lips are swollen, your hair is disheveled, and your heart is racing like a galloping fathier. You almost feel dizzy as you watch him run his tongue over his own flushed lips.
"Cyar'ika. Haar'chak!" His voice sounds even raspier now, his voice that you’ve heard a million times… but right now it’s so… intimate.
You giggle. Everything inside you suddenly feels so light and carefree. "I don't know what that means, but if you say it, it must be true."
That, in turn, makes him laugh and the sound of his joy makes your heart leap.
It is the right thing. You spent years right next to him, trying to ignore the gap separating you. You've been casually talking about the weather and missions, and neither one of you was saying a damn word about this intangible thing between you while you gazed at each other. And you never saw him as happy as he’s right now. For years you were both winding up each other, pretending - no forcing - this relationship to be strictly platonic, while in fact it was kind of an agonizing foreplay.
It's never been a question of 'if', you realise, but a question of 'when' he’ll finally give in and touch you. Every second you spent together or lightyears apart from each other, lying to yourselves, were meant to get you into his arms... into his bed...
"You are all I've ever wanted," you whisper.
His lips find the sensitive spot in the crook of your neck, and he murmurs something in Mando'a on your skin you don't understand. How you wish you knew what those melodious words mean, but you lack the strength to ask.
When he raises his head and looks at you, there is burning desire in his amber eyes. Light as a breeze, his lips brush against yours, while his scomp strokes a spot just above your backside that you didn't even know would bring you so much pleasure, making your loins tingle.
"I want you," he whispers back.
You know what he’s asking... He’s asking you to irreversibly cross the line from being just friends to lovers. He's asking to expose you and quench this bottled-up desire. And it fills your belly with a simmering heat, twisting up your insides with need and setting you on fire.
Your body is giving the answer your voice can't find. The desire for him nearly consumes you, and you feel dizzy as your hand slides to the inside of his thigh, finding the gap in the armor. With skillful fingers, you gingerly massage the taint between his tense legs, amazed about the warm and sweaty sensation.
"Come," Echo rasps.
While you're still trying to reach out your hand so he can lead you back to your quarters, he already slides his arm under you with a decisive motion and lifts you as effortlessly as anything from the ground. Kriff! It’s not that you didn’t expect him to be strong, yet he still surprises you with this sheer display of physical performance. The tinge of showing-off from the otherwise level-headed trooper. It doesn’t fail its purpose. You gasp and entrust your weight to his strong arms.
In a way you still feel as if caught in a dream, even though his body does in fact feel pretty solid, wrapped around you like that. It makes you almost frantic with the desire to fulfil your connection with him before it can be ripped away like it was before.
The evening breeze gently blows through the branches of the trees and palms. As Echo purposefully carries you back to base and across the hangar into the ancient Massassi temple where the quarters are located, you see a few of his brothers leering and hear one or two of them shouting something to Echo that you don't understand. The strangest thing, however, is when you look over Echo's shoulder and see Rex smiling at you with a satisfied smile on his lips, almost as if he… You wink, and he mouths a silent ‘You’re welcome.’
With a quiet hissing noise, the door to your quarters closes. The dim light in the windowless room welcomes you, barely revealing the small table, chairs, and a bed. It’s not much that you call your own since you’ve joined the clone rebellion, but the few things are all you need. No ballast if you have to strike camp abruptly. Yet as uninviting as the room may be, right now it’s the perfect love shack for you and him. Echo. He’s been in your quarters every now and then: for smalltalk, to pick you up for a briefing, to say goodbye. He always held up a platonic impression and pretended the bed wasn’t there. Now the tempting piece of furniture is the only thing that matters. Carefully, as if holding a fragile treasure in his arms, he lays you down on the sheet. The mattress sinks in when he sits down on the edge of the bed next to you.
“Are you comfortable?” Echo asks, his amber eyes regarding you coseley.
“Mmmm,” you hum in response. “Never felt better.”
Echo chuckles. How much better will you even feel when he’s going to have his way with you? But then again, he can totally relate to your sentiment. Still incredible to see you like this.
Almost reverently, he grazes along your jawline with his scomp. The sight of the harsh, battered metal against your silky skin stabs his chest for a split second. He can’t feel a single karking thing in his right arm, at least the lower part. And maybe it has been one of the more idiotic reasons to stay away from you, but somewhere deep inside Echo wondered all those years if he could ever be enough for you. More machine than man, at least percentage wise. Yes, thank you very much Tech. You never gave the impression that you’d see him inferior to one of his brothers or that his disability would mind you at all. It took him lots of self-persuasion to agree with you. Until that moment that is. You’ve raised your hand to place it gently on his scomp, your fingers running across the insensitive device. The scomp may be a part of him, a pretty useful most of the time to be honest, but of what use is the thing if he can't sense your touch right now. Tech did make him a prosthetic hand, covered with synth-flesh, one that was actually able to sense… but somehow it doesn’t feel right to interrupt your togetherness to ‘switch’ arms. Ridiculous. And unnecessary, he notes as you turn your head to softly blow a kiss on the drill bit.
The gesture, as small and insignificant as it is, is the last reassurance he needs to dive into this new and thrilling experience with you. To indulge in desires long held back and turn friendship into something new. Instantly, he imagines you splayed out on your bed, your cheeks flushed with excitement and your hair disheveled. This time… the pictures won’t remain just wishful thinking, not just a wet dream at night. His hard-on presses ever more fiercely against the confines of his codpiece, reminding him that some of his parts are still human and that he’s enough of a man to satisfy the both of you. Multiple times.
Echo bends with a smile. "I want you to feel good. I'm gonna make you feel good. Waited far too long for this," he murmurs next to your ear. His nimble fingers carefully free you from your tunic and binders shortly after, and the warmth you radiate only adds fuel to the fire of his own lustful thoughts. Nothing's gonna stop him from becoming one with you. Next, his hand pushes your pants and underwear over your hips leaving you lying exposed before him. For a moment, he lets his gaze glide over your nakedness, taking his time to admire your body before…
The kiss he places on your mouth is softer than any other he has ever given… and yet it turns into a sinful, tender, slow motion as he drops his head to follow the curve of your neck. His lips brush along your skin and his tongue unhastingly, almost lazily, licks wet patterns as he discovers your taste with relish, and devotes himself to you. A burning desire washes over him and makes him almost combust inside his armor when his mouth climbs your mound and your tempting scent enfolds him.
You gasp in surprise, eyes shut in delight, as his lips wrap around your erect nipple and suckle while he’s thumbing the neglected one with a gloved hand. Ugh… just… just the mental picture of him in full armor bent over your naked body…
"Please... don't stop," you whisper hotly, your hands starting to roam over his head, neck and shoulders.
Somewhere in your sex-addled mind you wonder if he’s been too impatient to undress himself first or if he’s doing it on purpose. Spoiling you and serving your undoubted kink. Kriff… the things you wanted to do to that particular armor for years. And now your legs wrap themselves around his back, and the pressure as the edges dig into your skin in stark contrast to the soft and tender way his hand massages your breast, almost has you reaching your climax just then and there.
Plop. With a throaty chuckle, he interrupts his attention and raises his head. In the dim light, you can see him licking his lips. "Not for anything in the galaxy."
He smirks then lowers his head again, and his lips wander further. Deeper. Your own lips part in a silent gasp as he circles his tongue around your navel. And then you toss your head to the side as his soft kisses tingle on your lower belly while he leaves an agonizingly slow, moist trail down your slope…
"E-Ech..." Your body arches up from the mattress in blinding pleasure as he tastes your wet warmth for the first time with a loud moan.
“Sweet like honey.”
Or something like that you think he whimpers between your legs while he’s rutting against the mattress, but you can’t be sure cause you’re about to lose your mind. In a slow and steady pace he starts lapping at your leaking arousal, curling and flicking his tongue around your clit as if it’s all he ever wanted. All you can do is to moan helplessly as you feel his fingers ever so slowly sink into you and his mouth sucking on your most sensitive parts. Consumed by desire you give in to the loving play of his tongue and fingers before you eventually fall apart in a shivering orgasm.
“You have no idea, cyar’ika, how often I’ve thought about this. Of how you’d taste…,” he rasps quietly as he emerges from between your thighs. And by gods, what a sight he is. Not a hint of his usual, subliminal scowl. There’s a soft expression on his face, his eyes brim over with affection and his lips still shimmer sinfully with your juice coating them.
“You… all you had to do was ask,” you say brokenly. And are those tears in your beautiful eyes?
There is it again… the sharp pain of regret flashing up and he swallows the lump in his throat. He’s wasted so many precious years. Time he could have spent in your embrace passed by.
“I was nervous… didn’t know how to act…“ He takes a second of consideration before he resumes speaking and wipes his thumb across your cheek.
“Cyar’ika… look… I’m everything but proud about how I’ve treated you on this first night.”
But… but what could he have done differently? He was trapped. In a relationship that demanded more of him than it gave him. And trapped in his own convictions and misplaced loyalty. He was too much of a coward or maybe too coaxed by the attention he got. And then there were you like the glow of a spark of hope in the darkness. He could not have stayed away from you even if it would have been the right thing to do. He was too stubborn for his own good. But no matter how much he wishes to turn back time, it’s beyond his power.
“And if you would have told me that you never wanted to talk to me again, I couldn’t have blamed you. I can’t undo what happened… but I will be damned if I won’t treat you like you deserve from this day on…” ‘…and for the rest of my life if only you’ll let me.’ Instead of voicing his promise, he leans in again to kiss you sweetly… sweet… swee… t… ho.. hot… How salacious is that to let you taste yourself from his lips? And why’s he still wearing that karking armor to keep himself in rein?
Yes, he wants to please you. Wants to make you feel what you mean to him. He wants to make sure that there’s no doubt about his words. But… nghhh…. Now that he gets a taste of your passion with the way you respond to his kiss, he longs to find out how you feel when you move against him… when it’s your skin on his.
The air in the room is cold against your heated body as Echo gets up. With your eyes still closed the reminiscence of his warmth still wafts through your senses like a vanishing dream in the morning. Only you’re not dreaming this time… he’s still there as you open your eyes, right next to your bed. At the edge of your consciousness, you watch him stripping off his armor. Piece by piece... until he's only wrapped in his undersuit. The supple black fabric hugs and accentuates every elevated plain and valley of his muscles, turning your friend in the the shell of a hardened ARC trooper into that gorgeous man with all his edges… yet so soft to the touch. You've been waiting so long to see him like that, and against all odds, tonight your time together has come. Your gaze caresses every inch of his shape. You want to touch him so badly…
Letting your fingertips brush down along his thigh, you feel him hesitate for a second as you reach the patch where the strong corded muscles change over to the transtibial prosthesis. Yet before you even have a chance to pull back and apologize for being too pushy, he apparently has decided for himself that you’ll get all of what makes him. And finally, the last barrier slides to the floor, and you hear yourself quietly suck in a breath as he stands before you in all his masculinity. Beautiful and… The skin of his shoulders and chest is coated with a thin layer of sweat, the many ports all over his torso gleam like liquid gold in the lamplight. He’s taking your breath away just by letting you see him like this.
“You’re so beautiful, Echo.” The outspoken compliment really makes him blush, and you almost sob as you watch him bashfully rub his neck.
“I’m just…,” he trails off.
“No… not ‘just’. You’re beautiful Echo… and I will say it again and again until you’ll believe me.”
Propped up on your forearm, you let your free hand trace along his ribcage, the hipbone, the outer curve of his thigh.. The tender touch causes goosebumps on his skin and makes him shiver… the strangled sigh that slips from his throat tells you that it’s the good kind of shiver. The very good kind of, actually… and it emboldens you to purr your next words: “Or… you'll give me a reason to keep quiet.”
Deliberately, you lick your lips, and your gaze drops from his eyes down to his crotch, where you watch the most enticing hard-on you've ever seen. The velvety skin is a shade darker than his other slightly tanned skin, the glans glistening with a thin icing of precum. The thick vein pulsing imperceptibly…
“Not yet.” He interrupts your delicious daydream, denying you the opportunity to taste his desire. When you pout, he chuckles… and like a predator chasing his prey, he crawls on the bed, hovering over you far enough to be out of reach for the moment, close enough to let you feel the radiating body heat.
“I promise, cyar’ika, that you can have whatever you want from me. Any time, anywhere… I'm gonna fuck you in every position you want me to…” To emphasize his words, he tilts his hips just the littlest bit to let you feel his cock grind like a delusion against your pubis. The slight touch still sends a jolt of arousal through your whole body. On their own will your legs fall open for him as your heartbeat accelerates and your quiet whimper fans over his face.
“But first….” His head drops enough that you can brush the tip of your tongue over his bottom lip. “Let me have you like that. Let me make love to you…”
Ohhh…. You’re about to faint. And to keep you anchored in reality, your hands cling to his shoulders. Your body arches, chasing after him as he keeps hovering above you and your lips seal with his. All of that convincing you that he’s not just another dream.
Finally, he can no longer contain his own excitement. Echo lines himself up at your velvety folds, prodding the entrance tentatively…. For a split second, your eyes meet, sealing the promise of your bodies in silent consent as his weight settles heavily and comfortably over you. With a firm, agonizingly slow thrust, he sinks into you.
Both of you gasp, a mixture of excitement and relief, indulging in the overwhelming feeling of being melted and truly one. Even now, without him moving at all, he can feel your walls clench around him and hold him deep inside you. Sh…
“Shit. I’m so distracted… forgot to wear… protection.”
Immediately, he’s about to pull out, cursing himself for his inattentiveness, yet you hold him in place.
“I’m safe… Ech… you don’t need any protection when you’re with me.”
You’re a dream, right? Some celestial being, made just for him. At least that’s how he feels right now. For another endless moment, he just remains motionless, letting the two of you float in limbo until nothing else matters anymore except you and him, two souls and bodies in unison. Echo grinds his hips against yours, and he’s drowning in your wet heat, consumed by the sensation of you, soft and pliable around him. The moan that leaves your lungs in reward, he's swallowing eagerly. He then starts moving, settling into a slow but firm rhythm, pounding into you again and again.
You lustfully dig your fingers into firm muscles on his upper back as you move rhythmically in concert on the cool sheets, both panting and moaning with pleasure. And still he doesn’t have you close enough, still needs more of you. His hand is reaching for your leg, hooking it around his waist. And he never saw something as erotic as that, when you throw your head back with a load groan, baring your neck to him, as he hits inside you just right. You surrender to him, and he’s more than willing to satisfy your every desire. Only vaguely he's aware of how your mutual pleasure reaches ever higher heights. In a frenzy of unbridled passion, held back for far too long, he makes love to you until the wave finally, finally, crashes over you in another consuming orgasm and your quivering body is sweeping him along. He's shaking and trembling, filling you with white, hot ropes of his seed… almost crying.
He never would have believed love could feel like this…
“I love you, cyar'ika.”
“I love you too, Echo.”
Drenched in sweat, you snuggle against him, and he listens to the soft sound of your breathing as you calm down in his arms a few minutes later. Your curves fit his angular, battered body as if they were made for him.
The first rush of unbridled lust has subsided… Now he's bathing in the warm feeling of your love. For the first time in forever, maybe for the first time at all, Echo feels safe and sound. Loved. Not just another one among a million. Your fingertips prickle on his skin as they dance tenderly around his ports, assuring him that you'll accept him the way he is… More man than machine in all term that matter. And more than enough to love you… in each and every way possible. Why the kriff, did he need so long to find out?
"Thank you for giving me a second chance."
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HELLO THERE ! Just read your chapter, it was absolutely lovely, I'm so happy to read more about Wren and Hunter, to see them snuggle and kiss, they are so, so sweet and I will never be tired of it 💚💚💚
Oh another note, I can understand so well the fear to be awkward when meeting new people, especially when we think that they're better than us (even if it's not true), I always have the fear to be awkward, weird and judged during these moments, after that, when I'm alone, I'm always replaying these moments in my head, thinking "oh I shouldn't have said this like that", "oh I shouldn't have acted like this" "oh they must have thought that I was annoying ...", always the fucking anxiety to be judged, and that doesn't feel good, so yeah, I understand that a lot 🫂
Also on ANOTHER note again, just discovered the grilled cheese and now I want to make some, but it's almost 2AM and I do not have the cheese for it ;u; another time 👌
Patience & Trust: Chapter 5
Introductions
(Wren meets Crosshair's Girlfriend)
Author's Notes: In January, my friend, @substantial-exposure, wrote a companion piece to my fic called "Introductions (Aka the Hunter and the Librarian Crossover Event!) And in that fic (please read it, it's so great!) her OC, Tulip, was introduced to us as Crosshair's girlfriend.
In this chapter, I'm going to write that meeting from Wren and Hunter's point of view.
Summary: Set in a modern AU: Wren is a librarian who meets Omega, a twelve-year-old living with her five older brothers. Omega feels Wren and her oldest brother, Hunter, would be good for each other and tries to play matchmaker. Wren's anxiety and shyness make that more difficult than Omega hoped. Wren is based on me and my experiences with anxiety and how it affected my relationship with my husband. This sequel begins in the early days of their relationship. There are still struggles, because her anxiety hasn't magically disappeared. But because of Hunter's patience and Wren's trust, they're able to make it work.
Pairing: Modern AU Hunter x OC
Word Count: 5803
Warnings: Talk of anxiety, especially social anxiety and shyness, kissing and mention of sexual arousal. Men and women in bed together, but no sex.
Inspiration: My modern AU was inspired by the amazing Modern Batch AU and Modern Fives AU stories by kaydear (Illyria_Lives) on AO3. Not to be overly dramatic, but they changed my life. I borrowed some of their background from those stories, with the author's permission.
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Patience & Trust Masterlist (the sequel)
Hunter and the Librarian Masterlist (the original)
Dividers by animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Wren tried to stay awake, and had succeeded for quite a while. But the warmth and comfort she felt with Hunter caused her to finally doze off. She awoke to the alarm on his phone and felt him reach back to turn it off. She began to stir and felt his arm tighten around her.
He put his nose in her hair, then whispered in her ear, "Uh-uh, I don't want to get up. So you can't get up either." But she could hear the smile in his voice.
"Oh, is that right?" She teased back.
Who even are you? Teasing with Hunter like this? She was a little amazed at herself, to be honest.
"Yep, you're stuck here with me for a while longer." He kissed her neck, and she shivered just a bit. He chuckled, but didn't say anything about it, because he didn't want to embarrass her.
Then he remembered he should tell her about Tulip. "Hey...I wanted to let you know someone you haven't met is here today. It's Crosshair's girlfriend, they're up in his room right now."
Wren was surprised and said, "Crosshair's girlfriend?"
"Yeah. She sometimes comes by, especially after they've been out. I'm sorry, but I didn't realize she was going to be here until we saw her car this morning. I still haven't seen her, I assume they're sleeping."
"Okaay...that's cool." She said quietly.
"Is it?" he sounded a little concerned.
"I mean, yeah. I'm fine. Do you know if she'll be coming out of his room this afternoon?" She felt like her voice was getting quieter and weaker as her mind swirled.
"She might. It just depends. But if you don't want to have to deal with that, you can stay in here."
"Oh no, that's okay. I don't want to be rude." She felt like taking a chance on saying something dumb would be better than hiding out. She didn't want to offend her before they even met.
"Well, it's up to you. But I'm sure it will still be a couple of hours before they're down here. Did you want some lunch?" He asked before he kissed her cheek.
"Ummm..."
"I can make you a grilled cheese. I'm not a great cook, but that's my specialty."
"I'd love a grilled cheese." At that she rolled over so she was facing him. "Thank you."
"My pleasure," he said, before kissing her forehead. She closed her eyes and soaked up the warmth she felt radiating off of him.
They lay there for another minute, and then he said, "Okay, I'll get up now."
He kissed the top of her head, but before he could get up, she draped her arm around his shoulder. Her face went into the crook of his neck, so he tightened his arms around her.
"Are you okay?" concern in his voice again.
"Yeah, I'm fine, just...this has been so nice, I hate to get up."
"Well, you don't have to yet. I will even bring your grilled cheese to you."
She knew he would, but she didn't want him to do that. She knew she needed to get up, but...
"Could we stay here for five more minutes. I swear that's all." She looked up at him, and he wondered if she knew how adorable she looked, her eyes big and playfully pleading. He looked at her so softly and fondly that she caught her breath.
"Definitely. I'd love to stay here five more minutes. Hell, I'd love to stay here all afternoon, and only get up in time for Omega to be home."
She dropped her head again and smiled into his neck saying, "Okay, just five more minutes."
He rubbed his hands gently up and down her back. "Did you sleep at all?" he asked.
"I think I must have. At least briefly. I tried to stay awake, but then I heard your alarm, so I'm pretty sure I was asleep. You?"
"I dozed off too. It's so comfortable with you here. You're warm and so soft. Like a heated body pillow." With that he put his fingers under her chin and lifted her face out of his neck, so he could see her. "Can I kiss you?" he whispered.
"Yeah," she whispered back.
She moved her head toward him just a little, and he closed the rest of the distance. When their lips met, her eyes closed, and she brought her hand to his cheek. She was the one who deepened the kiss that time, turning her head just a bit.
As she pulled back, she hid her face in his shoulder again. She was still a little embarrassed about kissing. Part of that was because she wasn't sure if she was doing it right. She decided to just tell him that. Honesty had been the best route to take so far with him.
"I don't know if I'm doing that right. Would you tell me if I wasn't? You know I don't have experience." She couldn't look at him.
"Hey. Wren." She didn't look up . Again he hooked his finger under her chin, raising her face so he could see her.
She looked into his eyes briefly, and then off to the side. He leaned his head so he could see her eyes, even if she was trying to hide. "You are doing great. You're just as good at this as anyone else I've kissed. I really...really...enjoy kissing you." With that he dipped his head just low enough to get another kiss. "In fact, it's much better kissing you, because I actually care about you."
She snorted quietly and hid her face in his neck again. He wasn't going to push her anymore, so they just lay there. She was relishing his smell, his soap and shampoo. And the feel of his skin against her face.
"And I don't want you to worry about what might happen down the road. There are other things we could do, kissing-wise...but we also don't have to. I want you to know that. I would never push you to do something you're uncomfortable with. And if I did think about doing anything more, I would ask you first. Okay?"
She slowly nodded, and he could feel her head moving against his neck and shoulder, even though he couldn't really see her.
She whispered, "Do you mean...tongue stuff?" He thought he could feel her burrow her face even further in his neck, if that was possible.
"Yeah, that's one of the things I was referring to. But again, it's not something we have to do. Ever. Okay?"
She nodded again, and then whispered, "I'd like to try." But then she was quick to add, "Eventually. Just not yet."
"Okay, that's perfectly fine. We're going at your speed, with everything. You're in the driver's seat, okay? I'm just along for the ride. And if you ever want me to drive, then all you have to do is ask, yeah?"
"Yeah. Thank you." Then she kissed him on the neck and he chuckled again. Such a lovely sound, especially when she was so close to his chest and could feel the vibrations.
Finally, after five more minutes, he pulled back and said, "Okay, I'm going to get you that grilled cheese now. I'm hungry."
"Okay, I'll get up too. I don't want to waste my day in here when you're out there."
He smiled and kissed her forehead. Then he rolled over and stood up. She watched him as he messed with his hair while looking in the small mirror on the wall. She pulled herself out of bed as well, looking in the mirror as she stood behind him.
She started to mess with her hair, and he turned to look at her. "You look great." He pulled her into a hug.
"Ha, well thank you. So do you."
"Come on, let's go get some food."
They stopped hugging, but he put his arm around her shoulders as they walked into the laundry room, and then into the rest of the house. It was still quiet. They went into the kitchen.
"Have a seat there if you want. This shouldn't take too long. I just need to get the pan hot. Did you want some tomato soup along with it? It's actually homemade. And not made by me, so it's safe." He laughed, and she smiled at him. "Echo made it yesterday."
"Yeah, that actually sounds really good."
He smiled at her as he went into the fridge to pull out the container with the leftover soup. She watched him work with a contented smile on her face.
"Do you want something to drink while you wait?" He opened the fridge again and motioned to the beverages that were on the door.
"I'll just take some water."
"Okay, water it is." He reached into the cabinet for a glass, put some ice in it, then pulled out the water pitcher. He poured her some and placed it on the table in front of her before putting the pitcher back. Then he went back to the stove, getting his pans ready for the soup and sandwiches.
She thought she could watch him like this all day and never tire of it. He was so handsome. Devastatingly handsome, to be exact. He happened to glance at her once, and saw her watching him. She looked down at her glass quickly, taking a drink. But she was sure her cheeks were red from being caught.
She didn't see the small grin on his face as he turned back towards the stove. It made him feel like maybe she was getting more comfortable with him, even if he could tell she blushed. He had come to the conclusion that she's just one of those people who blushes a lot. And it was adorable.
They both seemed comfortable with the silence. He liked that he didn't have to constantly worry about conversation with her. She was perfectly okay with them coexisting quietly, until one of them had something to say.
"So what time does Omega usually get home from school?" she finally asked, as he was plating her sandwich and dipping her soup into a bowl.
He carried both to the table and set them down in front of her. "Usually anywhere between 3:00 and 4:00, depending on if she stops at the library, and if so, how long she stays."
She nodded, then said, "Thanks, this looks and smells so good." She gave him a big smile.
He smiled back and went to get his own food dished up. He then sat down next to her, after getting himself a drink, and they both began eating.
As soon as Wren took a bite of the grilled cheese, she said, "Mmmmmm! That is so good!"
"Yeah?"
"Yeah, it really is good. And it's cooked perfectly. Not too dark, not too light, bread still fluffy and cheese very gooey. Perfect." She reached over and rubbed his forearm. "Thank you so much."
"You're very welcome," he said as he looked at her. Then he leaned towards her and gave her a quick kiss on the lips.
She smiled and looked down at her food. She then tried Echo's soup. "Oh, that's really good too! You guys are good cooks! I need to hang out here more often," she laughed.
"You're welcome anytime. I think you know that." He looked at her with a smile, but she knew he was serious.
"I know. Thank you." She bumped his shoulder with hers very lightly.
Then they ate in silence for a few minutes.
She finally said, "I'm so glad you asked me to come here today. This has been really great. Thank you." She tried to look at him, and was able to for a few seconds. But after that she had to break eye contact and look out the window. "And now I'd like to take care of these dishes. You cooked, I clean."
"You don't have to do that. There aren't very many. They can wait until later."
"Yeah, but since there aren't very many, I can get them done really quickly."
He looked at her and said, "You are a stubborn one, aren't ya?"
"I've been told that a few times, but usually by my mom," and she chuckled. "She says I inherited that from my dad's side of the family."
"Well, I won't argue with you. I should probably start a load of laundry, so I can do that while you do the dishes."
They both stood up and carried their dishes to the sink. Wren started running water, adding the soap. She looked at Hunter, who was still standing next to her. "Is there anything special I need to know?"
"Nope, pretty standard set-up here."
"Okay, cool." She was already beginning to wash.
He put his hands on her shoulders from behind and kissed her cheek. "Okay, I'll go get the laundry started." He rubbed her upper arms a few times before stepping away.
She heard him walk into the laundry room and she assumed the rustling she heard was him grabbing some clothes out of the hamper she saw there. She heard the water start running into the washer. After a couple of minutes he came back in. She was just finishing up, rinsing out the sink.
"Well, you're done there, did you want to go hang out in the living room for a while?"
"Yeah, I'd like that."
He took hold of her hand, and they walked into the living room. He grabbed the remote and then sat in his usual spot on the couch. She sat next to him, as if it was the most natural thing in the world now, their watching TV position. He put his arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer into him. He turned on the TV and just left it on an animated show on the same channel Omega had been watching last. It's one he'd seen Wren enjoy with Omega and Wrecker one time she was over.
She laid her head on his chest, and they again sat in silence. That was one thing she had always hoped her first boyfriend would be able to handle...her when she needed to be quiet for a bit. Hunter could definitely sense when she needed that.
She was thinking about Crosshair and his girlfriend. Tulip. Wondering if they would come downstairs while she was there. But after a few minutes she was able to let that go for a little bit and just enjoy being there with Hunter, watching a show she liked.
Now and then they would talk quietly about the show, or something random that would pop into their heads. Just comfortable and easy conversation.
There were touches and kisses now and then. He kissed her hair at one point and laid his cheek on her head. With his arm still draped over her shoulders, he mindlessly ran his fingers up and down her upper arm. Her hand moved from his mid-section down to his thigh and back up again. She would burrow her face into his soft shirt now and then, inhaling his scent. They could not be more comfortable and content than they were.
It had been more than an hour when Hunter jumped a little and said, "Oh, I almost forgot! Omega made you...well us...some brownies! Did you want to try some? She was really proud of 'em, and I told her I'd offer you some today. Maybe we should do that before she gets home? You interested?"
"Heck yeah, I'm interested! Do you have milk?"
"Of course! Can't have brownies without milk. Come on." He started to stand up, and pulled her up with him.
Just at that time they heard the front door open. Echo was home a little earlier than he thought he would be. He looked at them with a sly look on his face and said, "Hi, guys. Hope I didn't interrupt anything."
Wren didn't see Hunter roll his eyes at Echo. He followed that with, "We were just getting up to try Omega's brownies. Did you want to join?"
"I will a little later. I need to shower first."
"Okay, we'll leave you one or two." He smiled and gave Wren a squeeze with the arm that was around her shoulders. She smiled at him, then at Echo.
"Thanks," Echo had a deadpan look on his face. Then they all laughed as he went up the stairs, and they headed for the kitchen.
When they got there, Hunter went to the counter and opened the container with the brownies. He got down two small plates and put two brownies on each, then took them to the table. At the same time Wren was getting in the cabinet for two glasses.
"Did you want milk too?" she asked him.
"Absolutely! Thanks."
She put the two glasses on the counter, then got in the fridge and brought out the jug of milk. She poured them both some, putting it back when she was done. She walked over and set the glasses next to the plates.
In the meantime, Hunter had gotten the coffee maker going. He would probably want a cup before too long, and he knew Crosshair would if he got up anytime soon. Echo might even want one after his shower. Then he went and sat next to her at the table.
She took a bite, and said, "Mmmmm, that is good! She did a great job!"
"She did. She's made them before, and they've always been good, so I expected it."
They were quiet while they enjoyed their dessert. After they were done, Wren said, "I could eat that whole container! Those were really yummy."
Hunter walked over and held out the container. "Here, have more."
"No, I've had enough for now. I would eat so many I'd make myself sick if I allowed it. Thank you though."
He nodded, "If you're sure." Then he put the lid back on.
She picked up her dishes and took them to the sink.
He said, "Don't worry about the dishes. We'll do them later when we have more."
"Okay, I'll agree this time," she said. She did rinse out her milk glass though. Then she went back and sat at the table.
He was at the coffee maker pouring himself a cup. He didn't offer one to her, knowing she didn't drink it.
Then her breath caught when she heard a door open upstairs. She could still hear the shower running, so it wasn't Echo. Oh no, it must be Crosshair...or his girlfriend!
Wren was frozen in place.
Hunter heard it also, and he turned to look at Wren. He could see the look on her face. He walked over to her, put his hand on her shoulder, and leaned down, kissing the top of her head.
"You'll do great. And I'll be right here."
She put her hand on top of his for a few seconds and squeezed while giving him a weak smile.
She could hear a shuffling coming down the stairs. She looked into the hall toward the staircase, and the first thing she saw were two fuzzy black slippers. Then she saw some black lounge pants, then a black top of some sort. Then a young woman looking very sleepy, with bed head that didn't take away from how pretty she was, fully appeared at the bottom of the stairs.
Wren held her breath for a few seconds...she's so lovely! She was going to feel like a frumpy frog on a log around her. How could someone who just got out of bed, wearing a haphazard combination of clothes, look ten times better than her when she'd actually made an effort that morning?! How could Hunter want to be with her, when Crosshair had a girlfriend who looked like that?!
She could tell the young woman paused looking into the kitchen. Her eyes landed on Wren, and she thought she noticed them widen just a bit.
"Morning, Tulip," Hunter said with amusement in his voice. Well that's a Dad joke for ya, Wren thought, since it was nearly 3:00 pm. She almost smiled, and thought, He's a keeper for sure. "Late night last night, hmm?" he asked with a chuckle.
She came into the kitchen and rolled her eyes at Hunter good-naturedly. "Only always with him," she said as she motioned vaguely above her. Then she turned slightly to look at Wren, and gave her an awkward smile.
Wren didn't know what to do. Then Hunter realized and quickly said, "I'm sorry, Wren. This is Crosshair's girlfriend, Tulip."
Wren realized she was probably staring, but she couldn't seem to pull herself out of the socially awkward stupor she was in.
Hunter continued, "Tulip, this is..." Wren heard him hesitate, but only briefly. "This is a very good friend of mine, Wren."
I'm happy with that for now. It would have been weird to hear him say girlfriend.
But after that thought, her mind seemed to shut down and race at the same time. It shut down to anything constructive or helpful. But it raced with doubts and fears. She didn't know what to say or do. Should she stand up, and go shake her hand? Should she stay seated, and just say hi? Should she say nice to meet you or how are you doing? What had Crosshair already told her about Wren? Did she already dislike her? Probably. She couldn't imagine Crosshair would have been very complimentary, even if all he said was how silly Wren had been with the Hunter situation. To normal adult people that would seem pretty ridiculous.
She didn't know what she should do or say, but she was 100% sure she shouldn't just sit there staring at the young woman, making both of them uncomfortable.
But before she could decide, Tulip's smile grew and Wren thought maybe she wasn't judging her after all. She saw her look from Wren to Hunter, and then back again.
"Nice to meet you, Wren." She then gave a small wave that Wren had to admit was a little goofy-looking, which made her feel just a bit better, because it looked like something she would do.
Then Wren was even more surprised at what happened next. Before she could say anything, Tulip continued, "I like your hair," while motioning towards her.
What? She likes my hair? MY hair? It's so plain. Even though hers is messy, I can still tell it's way cooler than mine.
She was shocked and frozen.
Say something, Wren! You're making it weird!
"Th-thank you." Yep, she even stuttered over her words. Bra-vo, Wren, bra-vo. She rubbed her hand rapidly up and down her thigh as a nervous habit, but Hunter and Tulip couldn't see. Or at least Tulip couldn't, maybe Hunter could, but he knew how she was, so that was okay.
Tulip smiled a little awkwardly again, and started to back towards the doorway leading into the hall. "I'll uh...let you guys get back to whatever you were up to."
Wren felt a little bad, because it seemed like now she had made Tulip uncomfortable, and she didn't want that.
Little did she know, Tulip was kicking herself for how she handled it. She could tell she made that weird. She wouldn't normally be concerned about what people thought of her, that's not something she cared about. Except when it came to Crosshair...and his family. And from what Omega had told her, this woman was on her way to becoming family, especially if Omega had anything to say about it. She'd only had good things to say about her. She talked about how nice she was, and how much Hunter liked her. And Hunter wasn't easy to please, so she must at least be special in some way. And here she screwed up their first meeting. Ugh.
Tulip was actually glad when Hunter spoke, easing some of the awkwardness. "Of course," he said as he placed his milk glass in the sink. She started to turn around to finally go to the bathroom...the whole reason she'd dragged herself down here, into this uncomfortable situation. "Uh, hold on a second," Hunter continued, as if just remembering something. "Omega's going to be home shortly, are you taking her out?" He grabbed his coffee cup again and sipped while looking at her.
"If it's alright with you guys, I wouldn't mind. I was thinking about taking her for mani-pedis. I thought she might enjoy it." She had a smile on her face as she put her hands in her pockets. "Besides, I'm not sure if he's waking up anytime soon-"
But as if he was just waiting for her to say that, they heard footsteps on the stairs. They all turned and saw Crosshair's legs coming into view. He looked even more tired than her. He shuffled over to the coffee maker, realizing at the last minute that someone had already started it, and there was some waiting for him. He looked over at Hunter, who gave him a small smile and nodded.
Crosshair nodded back, grunted, and walked over to Tulip. He stood behind her and slipped his arm around her waist.
Wren was shocked, but tried to keep it off her face. And she thought it looked like Tulip might have been a little embarrassed. There was possibly a little color in her cheeks, and she felt bad for her.
"I was just about to head up and wake you in a minute," she said to him. Then she got even more embarrassed when he kissed the top of her head.
Wren was sure her mouth was hanging open at that point. She was watching Crosshair put his arm around an adorable young woman, and kissing her on top of the head very softly. In front of Hunter and her. It was so bizarre. He had to be different when he was with Tulip. Right? Otherwise, why would she want to be with him? She felt a little bad thinking that, but he's just so...contrary sometimes.
"Morning, Crosshair!" Hunter said in a very cheery tone. Wren had to assume he was putting that on a bit, because she didn't think she'd ever heard him sound THAT cheerful. Especially when talking to his brother.
Crosshair threw Hunter an unamused look as he walked back to the coffee maker. "That joke never gets old, Hunter."
Hunter snickered and brought his cup up to his mouth again to hide his big smile.
Wren watched Tulip follow Crosshair and try to hug him from behind as he was pouring his coffee. She seemed a little fidgety, like she had excess energy. She wondered how that went over with Crosshair, since he was so quiet and calm all the time. She bet they were an interesting pair to be around. She assumed she would be seeing more of them in the future, so she would get her answers eventually.
She'd glanced over at Hunter who was smiling at her over his cup. He gave her a little wink, and she smiled back at him before quickly looking down at the table. When he winked at her, it gave her butterflies. When she looked back up to where Crosshair stood drinking his coffee, she noticed Tulip had disappeared. How did that happen? She's quick...and quiet!
She didn't have long to think about it, as they heard the front door open, then close quickly. Then what sounded like a pair of shoes being tossed off and quick footsteps to the kitchen. Omega stood at the door with her backpack still on.
She smiled at all three of them and said, "I missed you guys!" Wren quickly looked at Hunter, and she could see an incredibly soft look in his eyes and a smile on his face. She'd been the recipient of a soft look from him a few times also, but of course it was a different kind of softness when he was looking at Omega. It was obvious how he felt about that girl, it was written all over his face.
As she dropped her backpack onto a chair, she said, "Hey, Wren!" and sat in the chair right next to her. "I stopped by the library, but you weren't there. Obviously. Since you're here."
Wren patted the girl's knee and said, "Pretty rare I know. I thought it might be good to take the day off and just relax though. I have so much vacation time saved up, I'll start losing if I don't take some now and then."
Omega looked at the guys, and then looked even more excited. "Did you meet Tulip yet?" She said that quietly though, glancing at Crosshair again, before looking back at Wren.
She nodded at Omega, "I did, briefly. She seemed nice."
"She's super nice. When I first met her, I thought she was kind of scary. But I promise she's so nice," she said enthusiastically. "She sometimes takes me out on Fridays for girl time."
At just that moment, Tulip came back into the room. When she saw Omega, her face lit up more than Wren had seen up to that point. For one, she was probably fully awake now, but it was also obvious she thought a lot of Omega.
"Hey, kid!" she said happily. "How about you get settled with your stuff, and we head out?"
That was Dad Hunter's cue to step in. "Before that," he said gently. "What's the homework for the weekend?" he asked Omega.
A look of disappointment crossed Omega's face, and Wren actually felt a little bad for her.
"I have half of a math sheet and a science packet," Omega answered quietly. She looked at Hunter with her puppy dog eyes.
Tulip spoke up, "I can help her. Besides, our appointment is a little later. We can sit and do it while we wait," she explained looking over to Hunter. "If that's alright with you, I mean." She didn't want to overstep, but Crosshair had told her that Hunter could be a little too strict about stuff like that sometimes. It's Friday night, after all. She had all weekend to finish what little homework she had.
Hunter let out a quiet breath and said, "That's fine, just make sure she gets it done." He gave both of them a half smile, trying to let them know he wasn't trying to be a hardass. He just wanted to make sure she didn't put it off until Sunday night and then have to scramble. He'd seen his brothers do that too many times when they were growing up. Well, and he'd done it a few times as well. Isn't that a parent's job? Try to help their kids avoid the mistakes they made? He knows she needs to make her own mistakes though. This is one of those walking a tightrope things that he felt very ill-prepared for when it came to helping raise Omega.
He knew Tulip would do what she said. He'd still not been around her enough to get a really good feel for what type of person she was, but she had always followed through when she said she'd do something with or for Omega. He had no reason to doubt her.
Excitedly, Omega turned and pulled out a folder and pen from her backpack. Then an idea hit her as she noticed Wren.
"Tulip, I was wondering..." Omega started to say. Wren looked up and noticed Crosshair hiding behind his mug, but she could see the corners of his smile.
"I don't know if you have plans for the afternoon," she said to Wren. She looked hesitantly between them all. Then she focused on Tulip. "Do you think Wren could come with us?"
Then she quickly turned to Wren, putting her hands on the woman's forearm, and looked at her. Wren felt her mouth go dry, and she started feeling nervous butterflies in her stomach. She looked quickly at Tulip, eyes wide, trying to process and immediately thinking of everything that could go wrong.
"You don't have to come if you don't want to, but I think it would be really fun," Omega said.
Tulip had been told enough about Wren's anxiety by Omega and Crosshair to know that look on her face was the anxiety taking over. And knowing how anxious and nervous Wren was, and probably would continue to be if she went, started making Tulip nervous.
After quickly glancing at Crosshair, who was no help at all as he smirked behind his mug, she said as casually as possible, "I don't see why she cant." She turned to look at Wren. "You don't have to if you don't want to. I don't know what your schedule looks like." She tried to give her an out if she wanted one.
Wren blinked and looked at Tulip, and then to Omega. "Oh, I...I don't know about that." She looked to Hunter, needing his reassurance. He nodded at her with a gentle smile, eyebrows raised as if asking her if she wanted to. She felt like everyone was looking at her, which didn't help matters.
To her surprise, and the surprise of everyone else it seemed, Crosshair spoke up. He placed his mug on the counter motioning with his head for Tulip to come over. He told her, "I think it would be nice."
Hunter laughed. "Oh, really?" He looked at his brother with his eyebrow raised. He was surprised Crosshair had an opinion on this at all.
"Why not?" Crosshair said as he gently pulled Tulip to stand in front of him. He put his arms over her shoulders, lightly resting his chin on the top of her head. "The girls can get to know each other a little, and Omega gets them both to herself for the afternoon. I think it'd be nice for them."
Hunter looked at Wren again, seeing she still had her deer in the headlights look. He moved to stand beside her, speaking quietly and gently, "You don't have to. No pressure," he reminded her.
Her thoughts were still racing. She'd already pushed herself a lot recently, and overall it had turned out pretty well. She guessed she could push herself a little more. Omega had such a hopeful look on her face. Hunter looked sympathetic. Tulip looked really friendly and open, and Crosshair was still smirking. But when she caught his eye, he actually winked at her. That was weird, but oddly encouraging.
She figured she would regret this, and she felt like she was going to pass out or throw up, or both, but she heard herself say, "Why not? This could be fun."
Taglist:
@transactivecybermemory, @the-hexfiles, @griffedeloup, @eclec-tech, @feral-ferrule
@lightwise, @votedprettybythecommittee, @totallyunidentified, @indigofyrebird, @adamime
@frostycatblr-fandom-files, @delicioustacocollector, @ladysaturnsdust, @antisocial-mariposa
@youreababboon, @merkitty49, @noblelightfighter, @notgonnaedit, @chaicilatte
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HELL YEAH PART 2 !! 💚 It was amazing, I can't wait to read part 3 👀👌
Love Finds a Way - Hunter (Part 2)
Summary: Hunter and the rest of the Bad Batch tries to help you restore your memories. Length: 3.6k Warnings: Mentions of Jedi Purge; Mentions of Death; Amnesia; Scars; Angst; Female Jedi Reader
Part 1
Hunter stood in the entryway of the cockpit with his arms folded across his chest. You sat in the co-pilot chair as Echo and Tech asked questions about what you remembered.
Hunter tried to appear stoic, serious, and focused on the mission at hand. But yet his gaze was soft as he watched you explain your memories. He studied your mannerisms and listened to every intonation of your words. And yet, he found that his close analysis only made the situation more difficult to stomach.
It made his skin crawl when he heard the accent of the planet reflect in your words. Or the way that you sat slumped in your seat. You did not carry yourself like a Jedi general with several hard-fought victories under your belt. You were a negotiator. You were an ambassador. You rarely dropped your composure and were cool under fire.
But the you before him wasn’t you. It was your face and your body, but yet it wasn’t. You were nervous and fidgety. You were constantly running your hands down your pants to wipe the sweat off and your voice never rose above a certain level.
Hunter thought that it was hard to grieve you. But now he realized that this was somehow worse.
“Byn found me unconscious on the bank of the river that runs north of the village. There’s a lot of berries that grow there, and it’s not uncommon for villagers to go up there to pick them. But I have no idea of how I ever got there in the first place.”
“And about five klicks from where you were last seen,” Echo noted, reading through the Imperial report.
“The river appears to be part of a larger tributary network,” Tech cut in, tying away at his datapad. “There are several water sources that flow south from a mountain range.” He stood up from his seat and a hologram of the planet appeared in the center of the cockpit. “And if we overlay the crash location with the tributary network, it appears that the crash site is above a lake that is part of the network.”
Tech pointed at the red point on the map. You slowly stood up and stepped towards the hologram, studying the map with furrowed eyebrows. Hunter, trying to not get distracted by how the light reflected off your eyes, watched you with concern.
“It would make most sense to start at the crash site.” Echo stood up and moved to stand beside you in front of the hologram. “We can search for the wreckage and see if there are any clues that can help trigger your memories.”
You nodded firmly. “Let’s do that.”
It was the most like you that you had sounded since Hunter found you again.
“Then let’s not delay,” Tech agreed, already typing in the coordinates of the crash site.
As Tech began the flight sequence, you slowly retook your seat in the co-pilot’s chair. Turning, you stared out at the darkened landscape and fiddled with your fingers.
Echo turned to do some more research into the explosion when he spotted Hunter staring at the back of your head. With a sigh, Echo walked over to Hunter and stood beside him. Echo glanced in your direction before turning to Hunter.
“How are you holding up?” Echo asked quietly, keeping his voice low.
“I’m fine.”
Hunter felt Echo’s stare of disbelief and turned to meet his gaze. With another nudge, Hunter sighed and ran a hand down his face. He pushed himself off of the wall and turned around, heading back to the barracks. And with one last glance between you and Tech, Echo moved to follow him. Hunter leaned against the console and stared at the floor.
“I just hope that we can find some answers for her,” he admitted quietly, causing Echo to nod.
“That’s what all of us want. And that’s what we’re all going to try to do.” Echo studied Hunter’s body language for a moment before he stepped forward and gently grabbed Hunter’s shoulder. The sergeant picked his head up at the contact. “Try to get some rest, Hunter. You need it.”
Echo gave Hunter’s shoulder a squeeze before he turned to return to the cockpit. Hunter watched Echo leave before his eyes wandered over to you. You smiled at Tech as the two of you discussed the mechanics of the Marauder. And when Hunter felt his jealousy spike at the fact that you hadn’t smiled at him, he shook his head and decided that Echo was right. He did need some rest.
With a heavy heart, Hunter stood up and walked into the barracks to go mope by himself and dream of a different, simpler time.
*~*~*~*~*
Hunter stepped out of the barracks when the Marauder began its landing sequence. You stood up from your seat when the ship touched down. As you waited for the doors to open, you locked eyes with Hunter. The two of you held each other’s stares, searching for some kind of familiarity that continued to elude you, until Tech cut into the moment.
“This is about as close as to the location of the crash that we can reach, as the actual explosion occurred in the air above the planet’s surface.”
“Explosion?” you asked, causing Tech to nod in confirmation. In a passing comment, you muttered under your breath, “No wonder my hair was singed.”
And although no one else heard it, Hunter did. The small comment made his fists clench and his jaw lock before he forced the muscles to relax. Instead, he tried to focus on Omega as the rest of the Bad Batch stepped off the Marauder.
Staring out at the small lake, you glanced up at the sky as if you were trying to remember the explosion. You stepped further from the group, tuning out Wrecker, Tech, and Echo’s discussion of investigating the area. Your eyes dropped to the surface of the lake.
“Wait.”
Blinking back to the present, you looked down to see Hunter’s hand wrapped around your bicep. It took another moment, but you suddenly realized that you were standing knee-deep in the lake. Hunter stared at you worriedly, trying to read your expression.
“Where are you going?”
“I don’t know.” You trailed off as you turned to look back into the lake. It was clear and warm from the season, but there was a drop off to a darker depth. A depth that you needed to see. “But there’s something down there that’s calling to me.”
“Calling how?”
“I don’t know how to describe it.” You turned back to Hunter with hope shining in your eyes. “But I need to go down there. I need to see what’s calling me.”
Turning to where Tech and Echo were standing, you walked out of the lake and out of Hunter’s grasp. Despite the fact that you left, his hand remained in the same position, holding onto the ghost of your past self.
“Tech, do you have underwater masks?”
“Certainly,” Tech piped up as Hunter turned around quickly.
“You can’t go down there,” Hunter stated firmly and with a sense of finality.
It was in that moment that the galaxy seemed to stop. Omega and Echo both winced, clearly having seen the change in your expression, and shared a look. Wrecker even appeared a bit scared as you slowly turned around to glare in Hunter’s direction.
It seemed that even if you didn’t have all your memories, you reacted just the same way to demands. Unreasonable demands, you would have said.
Your eyes narrowed dangerously and for a moment, Hunter could see a peek into your past self. The general who conducted herself with an impeccable sense of power and prestige. You did not back down and you were not one to cower away from a fight, no matter the opponent. You were a fierce warrior and negotiator and you never took kindly to being ordered around.
“Excuse me? What do you mean that I can’t go?”
There was a beat of silence before Hunter replied, “We don’t know what’s down there.”
“Congratulations, Sergeant, you just discovered the reason why I need to go down there.” Turning back to Tech, who was typing away at his datapad, you asked, “Can I have that equipment, Tech?”
“It’s too dangerous,” Hunter continued, walking closer to you. You turned around at the sound of his footsteps and stared him down. “You could get hurt.”
“I already got hurt. I didn’t have this scar the last time that you saw me, did I?” You gestured to your jagged scar, which caused Hunter to look away, pained at the reminder. Trying to quell your annoyance, you stated, “I need answers. And I’m not going to find them up here.”
“Then let us go down there for you.”
“No,” you snapped back. “These are my memories. My life. If anyone is going down there, it’s me.” Hunter could hear how hard your heart was beating in your chest with anger towards him. “Would you have trusted her instincts?”
Hunter slowly turned to meet your gaze again. There was that spark, that fire that drew him to you—well, the old you—in the first place. Your tenacity, your refusal to give up, to give in. There was always a way and you never stopped until you found it. And that little spark, that little fire, glowed bright in your eyes as you awaited his answer.
“Without question,” he responded quietly.
“Then trust mine.” Your figure relaxed and you slowly unhunched your shoulders. Holding Hunter’s gaze once more, you added, “If you want me to get my memories back, if you want the old me that you knew and remember, then you have to let me go.”
Let you go? Could he?
The last time that he saw you—well, the old you—you were in the process of being shipped out to some Outer Rim mission without them. A clone battalion needed a Jedi general after their last one was killed in battle and you were the closest and most capable replacement. The orders came with urgency and you barely had any time to say goodbye.
He had let you go then and what happened?
He lost you. You got hurt. The entire galaxy flipped on its head. He lost Crosshair. Bodies stacked up and there didn’t seem to be an end to the suffering.
But as you suited up and prepared to dive to the crash site, Hunter felt just as powerless as he had the first time that he read the report of your supposed death. If he stopped you, he risked alienating you forever and never reawakening the side of you that he remembered. That he loved. And if he let you go, you could get hurt. You could be lost forever.
Either way he lost, just as he had with every decision since the fall of the Republic.
“You can communicate with us at all times,” Tech assured you as you zipped up the suit. “And should you need to resurface quickly, press that button.”
“Thank you, Tech.”
With one last glance in Hunter’s direction, you placed the helmet over your head and turned for the water. Stepping slowly into the water you took a deep breath to steady yourself before you dove down.
“She’ll be alright, Hunter,” Omega assured him, leaning against him. Hunter merely nodded in reply, not trusting his voice.
Meanwhile, below the water’s surface, you swam deeper. The light from your helmet allowed you to see the bottom of the lake. Kicking along, you paused when the light reflected off something in the sand. You hovered over the lakebed. Staring at the shiny piece of metal in the sand, you gently brushed your hand over it.
You sucked in a sharp breath when the symbol of the Republic appeared before you.
“Everything alright?” Tech’s voice echoed through your helmet.
“Fine.” You looked along the lakebed and found a deeper canyon. And that call seemed to tug at you again, only this time it was even more powerful. “I’m going deeper.”
Swimming into the canyon, you uncovered more wreckage. Pieces of metal and other materials from a ship that had been blown up. And when you found the main part of the wreckage, you took a moment to stare at it. Pieces were scattered around, strewn about as the current and time slowly hid the truth of those horrors from the galaxy.
You approached the body of the transport carefully, using your instincts to guide you. Placing your hands on the lakebed, you started to push the sand away and move the debris in your way. The call was louder now, almost consuming you. Resting your feet on the ground, you grunted as you pushed one of the larger metal pieces out of the way.
Breathing heavily, you stared down at the lakebed as the sand slowly settled. A new glint of metal caught your eye and you bent down to investigate. Your hand wrapped around a column of metal and all of a sudden, the call stopped.
Pulling your hand up and dragging the material to the surface, you stared down at a lightsaber. Your lightsaber, you realized with a sinking feeling.
*~*~*~*~*
Hunter looked up as he sensed you about to resurface and walked to the edge of the lake. Your helmet appeared a few moments later and you slowly swam towards the shore. When your feet touched the ground once more, you slipped off the flippers and slowly walked out of the water.
“Did you find it?” Hunter asked as you approached.
You did not respond to him, tossing your flippers onto the sand of the shore without a word. Hunter waited intently for your response as you reached up and removed your helmet. You turned to look up at Hunter with an mix of emotions that he didn’t have time to identify because the sudden hum of a lightsaber drew his attention first.
You held the blade in front of you, not in a defensive or aggressive manner, just simply to make a point. Your eyes, however, never left Hunter’s face, trying to read his expression.
“You never thought that it was important to mention that I was a Jedi?”
And when Hunter turned to hold your gaze again, he only found a look of betrayal staring back at him.
“I can explain,” Hunter replied carefully, taking a step towards you.
But at the slight movement, he found the blade hovering dangerously close to his neck. The other Bad Batchers jumped into action, their hands reaching for their weapons, but Hunter held up a hand for them to stop. He stared at you and found tears gathering in your eyes.
“Save your breath.”
Hunter noted the subtle shake to your hand. Although the blade had called out to you, it clearly was not held with confidence. You once described your lightsaber as an extension of yourself. You toiled and meditated to build it over the course of several days. Without it, you felt incredibly exposed. And now it was foreign to you.
“We’re not here to hurt you,” Hunter tried to assure you.
“You’re not?” you snapped back incredulously as the shake in your hands became more apparent. “You know, this may be a dustball in the Outer Rim but even out here, we heard about what happened to the Jedi. About what men just like you did to them. To me.”
“We didn’t carry out the order.”
“Why should I trust you?” you demanded from Hunter. “Why should I trust any of you!?” You cast a glare in the direction of the other Bad Batchers before turning back to Hunter. “How do I know that you didn’t just play along, waiting until you had the opportunity to drag me away to your overlords? How do I know that I wasn’t just a bounty on your list?”
You stepped closer to Hunter, who remained still, holding your gaze with a measure of calm that was unsettling in of itself. Your lips trembled as emotions that you had no control over surged through your mind and cracks started to appear.
“I saw the Republic insignia down there on that ship. The ship that I was on when I lost my memories. The ship that was littered with blaster holes! After people just like you tried to kill me!”
“But we didn’t,” Hunter replied softly. “We would never.”
“I can’t trust you,” you hissed back, tears dripping down your cheeks. “You lied to me!”
“We held truth back from you. We did,” Hunter agreed, sharing a look with Echo and Tech. “But we thought that bombarding you with that information all at once would be too much.”
“You were just trying to control me!”
“I was trying to protect you.”
“Why do you even care about me?” you asked, another set of tears dripping down your cheeks. “Was all of this just a game to you?”
“No!” Hunter protested immediately. “No, it wasn’t.”
“Then why did you offer to help me?”
“We knew you as a Jedi. I knew you,” Hunter started to explain. “You were our Jedi general during the war. You served on countless missions with us over two years. We had a perfect success rate under your leadership. And you were . . .”
“I was what?” you demanded from him once more. “I was what?”
“Hunter,” Echo warned, but Hunter ignored him.
“We were friends, you and I. And we became even more as time went on.”
“Jedi aren’t allowed to have relationships,” you snapped back, the whirr of your lightsaber reminding Hunter of the very present danger in front of him. “Stop lying to me!”
“I’m not.” Hunter paused for a moment, searching your eyes for any familiarity. “You have a scar on your back. A thin, raised pink line that you got during the Battle of Geonosis. You told me that it aches when it gets cold.”
Your hand seemed to drop back to the scar before your brain caught up with you. Shaking your head, you held the lightsaber back to Hunter’s neck.
“That’s just a coincidence.”
“You can’t eat Muja fruit because it makes your throat itch.”
“Lucky guess,” you breathed out, though your voice started to lack force.
“You have a tattoo on your right hip. Just a simple stick and poke of a star that Tech did for you.”
“Stop it.”
“You favor your left foot for balance because of an injury to your right foot when you were a padawan. Even now, you’re balancing predominantly on your left foot.”
“Stop.”
“And you—”
“—I said stop!”
The Force seemed to return to you as the dust suddenly swirled around you after your outburst. Hunter looked down at your shaking hands before he slowly met your gaze once more. Your eyes were wide and frightened, lacking the anger and frustration from a few moments prior. Slowly, and as he held your gaze, Hunter reached down to grab your lightsaber.
You flinched, but didn’t push him away. He could feel you shaking more now that he held your lightsaber. Gently twisting his grip, Hunter deactivated the weapon.
“Put it down, mesh’la. You can put it down.”
“No, I can’t,” you breathed heavily. Your grip tightened on your lightsaber.
“Yes, you can.”
Your grip remained tight on the lightsaber as your hands shook. But soon, Hunter’s words seemed to have an effect on you. Your grip slowly loosened as Hunter continued to hold your gaze until your hand dropped back down to your side and your lightsaber remained in Hunter’s hand.
Staring at him with tears streaming down your cheeks, a sudden force seemed to come over you after you relinquished your lightsaber. Hunter’s hope evaporated and your lightsaber clattered to the ground as he lurched forward to catch you before you fell. Your head lolled to the side as your eyes rolled into the back of your head.
“No, no, no,” Hunter breathed out, holding your face in his hand. “Tech! I need help!”
Echo and Tech raced over and Tech quickly began to assess your condition. Hunter held you in his arms, tears streaming down his cheeks as he stared at your seemingly lifeless form. He could still hear your heartbeat and the sound of your breathing, which was the only reason he still clung to what remained of his sanity.
“She is stable, medically speaking. I believe that this is her body’s response to this encounter,” Tech announced after completing a scan.
“Her body shut down to protect herself?” Echo suggested, causing Tech to nod.
“Precisely.”
“When will she wake up?” Hunter asked, holding you closer to his chest.
“That is uncertain. It could be hours or days, if not weeks.”
“Tech.”
But Hunter tuned out Tech’s ramblings about the likeliness of your quick recovery. Brushing the hair that had fallen on your face away, Hunter lowered his head to rest against your own as tears continued to dribble down his cheeks and onto your own.
Peeps who asked about a Part 2: @astralqueenoc @mariahstarwarsgal @pissandgrits @sflame15-blog @oceansssblue @skellymom @leapingbadger @dragonrider9905 @sh1zhu @clonethirstingisreal @griffedeloup @literallydontlook
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AAAAAAAAAAAAW THAT'S ADORABLE !! It's been some time since I read about Tech and I needed something sweet like this, thank you 💚💚💚
Congrats on the followers id yet again like to throw in another request please?
growing up I had difficult with reading or learning to read in general. I was wondering if you could come up with a slight angsty and fluffy fic of tech trying to teach reader (fem) to read? Maybe he’s not patient, makes a very tech-like comment that reader overhears that upsets her which sucks because she really likes tech? ❤️ thank u ☺️
🌊 Reading Between the Lines
🫧 Pairings: Tech X Female Reader
🫧 word count: 6.1k

🫧 Plot: When Tech finds out you’re unable to read, he makes it his job to teach you. But after a comment to Echo, you think maybe he’s not the teacher for you.
🫧 Warnings: Safe for work, fluff and angst. Female reader, reader is unable to read. Tech makes accidental inconsiderate comments, comfort, play fighting, omega playing match maker, idiots in love trope, first kiss, reconciliation.
🫧: authors note: thank you @forbiddenwaves for this request and the kind words. Thanks for messaging me so we can work on this togther too. Enjoy 🤍

“Now, attempt the next word.”
You stared down at the datapad, the symbols swimming on the screen under the shadow of Tech’s tall frame. The sun beat down on your shoulders, and you bit the inside of your cheek, determined not to get this one wrong.
“Erm…”
“That is incorrect,” he stated before you could even finish.
Your brows furrowed. “I haven’t given you an answer yet,” you muttered, sharper than you intended. “It’s… con… cot…”
“Corellia,” Omega suddenly answered cheerfully from your other side as she bounds over.
You slumped with a groan, just as Tech gave a frustrated exhale.
“Omega,” he said, tone reproachful, “if you provide the answer, she will not learn.”
Omega winced, looking between the two of you with a sheepish shrug. “Sorry,” she said, eyes softening as they met yours.
“It’s alright,” you sighed in defeat. “I think I’m done for today. Besides, we’ve got to help the locals soon. That is why we’re on this rock after all.”
Tech folded his arms across his chest, expression unreadable behind his goggles. “We’ve scarcely covered anything of substance.”
“It’s been almost two hours,” you pointed out, rising from the crate you’d been sitting on, legs stiff. You turned to face him, half your features obscured by the harsh sunlight. “I need a break.”
He didn’t argue, but the way he took the datapad back from your hands with just a bit too much stiffness told you he wasn’t thrilled. “Very well. We’ll resume this evening.” Then, turning to Omega: “And I would appreciate no further interruptions.”
She nodded silently.
As Tech strode toward the ship’s gangplank, Omega reached for your hand, giving it a small, reassuring squeeze. “Hey, you got the first two letters right. That’s progress!”
From halfway up the ramp, Tech’s voice floated back over his shoulder. “Technically, it is not. Especially considering we’ve made no discernible advancement in two full rotations. And the fact that we just returned from a mission on Corellia should have made that word obvious.”
Then he disappeared into the ship.
You didn’t say anything. You couldn’t. Not unless you wanted to cry out of embarrassment.
Tech didn’t mean to be cruel because that isn’t in his nature. But he didn’t realise how much weight his words carried and how easily they upset you.
Omega was still watching you, lips pressed into a tight, worried line. “You’ll get there,” she said gently. “It takes time, that’s all.”
You exhaled slowly, wiping the back of your neck, now sticky with sweat and heat. “Maybe. But right now… it’s not looking great.”
It had been Tech’s idea to take on the responsibility of teaching you like it was a personal mission ever since the squad had learned that reading Basic wasn’t just a struggle for you, but a near impossibility.
Though, Wrecker and Echo did tell you that they were impressed since it never hindered any mission and they never noticed it being an issue for you.
At first, you were excited. One being that you could finally be able to read a sentence clearly for once by being taught by a complete brain-whizz and two, getting to spend some one on one time with Tech. Because well… you liked him. A lot. You had welcomed the chance to be near him, maybe even impress him.
But now? Now you just felt like dead weight.
These lessons had been going on for a while now and every time you thought you were making progress, he corrected you. When you think you have gotten the hang of it, your hope is snapped like a thin wire. And even though his tone was rarely harsh, the impact landed just the same.
You weren’t sure how much more of it you could take before you self imploded.
🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧
When a few hours had passed and you were covered in dried mud, scraped hands and aching shoulders. Just a small testament to the day’s work. The mudslide had hit the outskirts of the local settlement hard. Homes had caved in, supplies were lost. You, Hunter, Wrecker, and Omega had been on the ground all afternoon, helping wherever you could.
And for a little while, it had helped. Being useful. Doing something physical. Something that didn’t require datapads or deciphering Tech’s disappointment.
Wanting nothing more than to jump onto the Marauder to have a wash, as you climbed the Marauder’s gangplank with your limbs heavy and clothes still damp, the sound of your name halted you just short of the open doorway.
“She’s trying, Tech,” Echo said from inside, his voice low but firm. “I don’t think you realise how hard this is for her.”
“I am aware,” Tech replied curtly. “But effort without measurable progress doesn’t change the result. If she cannot fathom basic reading material after this long, I fail to see the point in continuing the same method.”
Echo exhaled, clearly trying to keep his patience.
There was a pause, and then Tech added:
“I don’t understand how someone who can’t read was cleared to be in this squad. It’s inefficient.”
You didn’t stay to hear more.
Your hands clenched into fists at your sides, your breath sharp in your throat. Before you could stop yourself, you reached out and grabbed a datapad left near the hatch—someone’s, anyone’s—and turned sharply on your heel, boots pounding against the ramp as you vanished.
Inside the Marauder, Echo’s head turned toward the hatch, catching the blur of movement just as it disappeared.
He frowned. “Was that—?”
“Likely Omega,” Tech said without looking up from his datapad.
Echo didn’t answer. He stared at the doorway a moment longer with a small sliver of doubt.
Then he reached over and plucked the datapad from Tech’s hands.
“There’s nothing wrong with the material,” Tech started, instinctively straightening. “It’s relevant—”
Echo held the pad up and squinted at the screen. “You gave her an economics summary on Corellia’s supply line recovery?”
Tech blinked. “It’s context-based learning. The vocabulary is advanced but rooted in familiar scenarios. Planet names, trade metrics…”
Echo cut him off, reading aloud in a dry tone:
‘Blah, blah, blah… Corellia’s industrial sectors yielded a net increase of 17.3% in hyperlane freight throughput.’
He looked at Tech. “You do remember she’s a beginner, right?”
Tech’s jaw twitched. “Comprehension improves when one is challenged. It’s a proven learning model.”
Echo just stared at him, then gave a slow, knowing smile. “Right. You’re not making it harder so you get more time alone with her or anything.”
Tech shot him a glance. “That’s not what this is.”
“Mm-hmm.” Echo folded his arms. “Just a coincidence you give her material most cadets wouldn’t see until advanced training. And you happen to offer to teach it… one-on-one.”
Tech didn’t answer. Didn’t rise to the bait. But he also didn’t correct him.
You wandered until the forest opened up into a small clearing just outside the village, where a fallen tree had settled along the edge like a broken bench. The air was still, heavy with the scent of wet ground and crushed foliage. You dropped onto the moss-covered trunk, the datapad still clutched in your hand.
For a moment, you just stared at it—its dull, lifeless screen reflecting your muddied reflection back at you. You pressed the activation switch, but the interface was already unlocked. Swiping clumsily, you tried to navigate to something, anything. Maybe one of those Corellian reports Tech was so convinced would teach you context. But the layout made no sense.
Your thumb hovered. You tapped wrong. Backed out. Tried again.
Nothing worked.
And with every failure, that old, tight feeling started rising in your throat like a scream.
Calm down. It’s just a datapad. It’s fine.
But your hands were shaking now, the letters blurring into meaningless shapes.
You grit your teeth, jabbed the screen once more and when it brought up another menu you didn’t know, you let out a rough breath and flung the datapad down into the grass with a thud.
Slumping off the log, you slid to the ground and pulled your knees up to your chest, resting your forehead against them. You didn’t cry. Not really. But your eyes stung. Your chest ached. You were so tired of trying. So tired of hoping and for what? To be called inefficient?
Minutes passed. Then, from somewhere beyond the trees, you heard your name being called.
Your stomach twisted. You knew that voice.
You inhaled slowly through your nose, forcing down the storm of frustration that still bubbled beneath your ribs. You didn’t want to talk to him but you figured that avoiding him now would only make things worse.
“I’m over here, Tech,” you called out, keeping your voice level.
He appeared between the trees moments later, his eyes scanned the clearing until they landed on you, standing now beside the log.
“You wandered off,” he observed plainly. “Omega was not certain where you’d gone.”
“I needed some air,” you said, trying to keep your tone casual.
He took a step closer. “Are you ready for your lesson?”
Your gaze dropped to the ground. “I’m… I don’t want to do another one today.”
Tech blinked, thumb pressing beneath his chin in that thoughtful way he always did when evaluating something... or someone. “Lack of practice results in insufficient performance.”
“Yeah, I get it.” You rubbed your arm, eyes narrowing slightly. “I’m not in the mood to do anything else today. I’m… tired.”
He studied you, his brow furrowing faintly. “I suppose that is reasonable. You were engaged in extensive manual labor for most of the day. Very well. We will resume tomorrow.”
He turned to go but you spoke up, “I don’t want to do it tomorrow either.”
He paused mid-step, looking over his shoulder at you, an eyebrow raised. “And why are you putting off your studies?”
You opened your mouth, then closed it again. You wanted to tell him. Wanted to throw his words back at him, cut him open like he’d done to you without even knowing. But what was the point?
“I just need a break,” you said instead, keeping your voice even as you play with your fingers.
“We have plenty of free time to continue—”
“I said I wanted a break, Tech,” you snapped, your arms folding tightly across your chest. Your shoulders stiffened as every nerve seemed to buzz.
He blinked again, head tilting slightly. “Your tone suggests there is something else bothering you.”
You looked away, lips tight. “Or someone,” you muttered under your breath.
“What was that?”
“I’m going for a wash,” you said instead, ducking down and snatching up the datapad you’d discarded. You moved to step over the fallen log and held it out to him without looking.
He took it from your hand, confusion still etched into his features. “Were you just using this?”
You let out a tired sigh. “Tried to.”
The next morning passed slowly, the heat thick and relentless even in the early hours. Yourself and the others helped out in the village again —carrying supplies, sorting debris, fetching water—but your heart wasn’t in it today. Your hands worked on muscle memory whilst your mind is elsewhere.
You’d been quiet. Too quiet, apparently because Omega had noticed.
You were sitting beneath a large tree at the edge of the village, the sun flickering through its canopy, offering shade as a gentle breeze stirred the leaves. You were tracing random patterns into the dust with the toe of your boot when Omega plopped down beside you.
She offered a bright smile, hugging her knees to her chest. “Feels nice to be helping people, huh?”
You nodded in reply, smiling faintly. “Yeah.”
She watched you for a moment, rocking slightly as she stared out at the village. “You seem kinda quiet today.”
You shrugged, trying to play it off. “Just tired.”
Omega leaned her shoulder into yours, playfully and soft. “You didn’t even complain when Wrecker gave you that heavy crate. That’s how I really knew something was up.”
That got a small chuckle out of you.
She tilted her head. “You and Tech didn’t do your lesson this morning.”
You grimaced before you could stop yourself. “I don’t want to do them anymore.”
Her brows knitted. “Why not? You were doing good yesterday. You almost had Corellia right!”
You stared down at your hands, fingers fiddling with a loose thread on your shirt. “I just… I don’t think I can learn from him.”
Omega blinked, surprised. “Did you tell him that?”
You gave a little shrug, not looking at her. “Not really.”
She fell silent for a moment, thinking. Then, in a hopeful voice, she offered, “Maybe I could help?”
You looked up at her, surprised. “You?”
She nodded eagerly. “Why not? You already got the first letters down before I ruined it yesterday.” She says, “And I bet I could make it more fun than Tech.”
You hesitated at first but truthfully, it was the first time since yesterday you didn’t feel like a complete failure. Omega’s eyes were wide with hope and something that felt a lot like belief.
You smiled, a little uncertain, but it reached your eyes. “Alright. Let’s try it.”
“Great! Stay here!” She shot to her feet before you could ask what she needed.
You expected her to run into the Marauder for a datapad but instead, she ducked underneath the ship’s hull and rummaged around in the loose red soil.
A moment later, she returned triumphantly holding a thick, crooked stick like it was a prized trophy.
“No screens today,” she grinned, “just dirt!”
She crouched low beside you, and with one sweep of her hand, cleared a wide patch of dust between you. Then, with careful, deliberate strokes, she began to write out the alphabet.
“You ready?” she asked, smiling up at you.
You nodded and leaned in beside her, cross-legged.
“Okay. Repeat after me.” She tapped each letter as she said it aloud, slow and clear:
“A… B… C…”
You followed, stumbling a few times, but she didn’t mind. She would just start the whole thing over, patient and gentle. You did it again. And again.
And again.
And again….
Then she covered some of the letters with her hand and pointed to a random one. “What’s this one?”
You hesitated. “Uh… F?”
She shook her head. “Try again.”
You frowned, staring at the rest of the row, mentally replaying her voice in your head. “...G?”
“Yes!” She beamed. “Now this one?”
You pointed. “P?”
She giggled. “That’s a Q. Close though!”
With every repetition, you felt something shift. Like you were actually getting the hang of it.
You started getting more right. You hesitated less. By the time you went through the whole alphabet again, she sat back with a triumphant smile.
“Alright,” she grinned, handing you the stick. “Your turn.”
You blinked. “Huh?”
“I want you to write my name.”
You laughed nervously. “Omega?”
“Yup! Easy, right?”
“Uh… sure.” You crouched again, stick poised awkwardly in your hand. “Okay… O.”
“Perfect!”
“...M.”
She paused. “Hmm…”
You glanced up as she was pulling a face, lips squished to the side with one eyebrow raised. A funny way to say ‘try again’ without being harsh.
You looked back at the row of letters, furrowing your brow. “Wait… no. That’s N. This is M.”
You corrected yourself and carved it into the dirt.
“Nice!” she beamed. “Keep going!”
It took a few minutes, a few wrong turns, but eventually, you finished all five letters.
“O-M-E-G-A.”
She stared at the letters in the dirt, then at you with wide-eyed glee.
“You did it!”
You couldn’t help the grin that spread across your face. Not forced. Not faked. Just real, honest pride.
“Yeah,” you whisper, sitting back. “Guess I did.”
Over the next few days, Tech noticed a pattern.
Every time he approached you about resuming your lessons, you deflected. A quick, polite excuse here. A firm “not today” there. Sometimes you didn’t even look at him when you said it.
At first, he chalked it up to fatigue. You’d been helping the villagers every day; moving debris, rebuilding homes, lifting spirits. But then he started noticing something else.
You were still learning. Just not with him.
From a distance, he saw you under the same wide tree where Omega first brought the stick and drew the letters in the dirt. She was sitting beside you, her arms moving in animated gestures as she pointed at something in the soil. You were watching her, laughing. Your smile was so bright it nearly startled him.
He tilted his head, hands folded behind his back as he watched the exchange from across the field. You used to smile during his lessons too. The first day, you’d grinned when you got your first word right.
He remembered it well.
In fact… he had the recording saved. Privately.
He’d downloaded the footage from his goggles later that night, under the guise of reviewing your reading pattern. But really, he’d wanted to see your smile again. The way your eyes lit up, the little wrinkle in your nose when you laughed.
But slowly, through each lesson, that smile faded. Replaced by hesitation. Then frustration. Then silence.
And now you were smiling again. Just not at him.
That afternoon, while you were away with Hunter and Echo, Tech approached Omega, who was fiddling with the stabiliser plate under the Marauder’s wing.
“May I speak with you for a moment?”
Omega blinked up at him, wiping a bit of grease from her cheek. “Sure!”
He adjusted his goggles. “It’s about her… reading progress. Has she been improving?”
Omega lit up. “Oh yeah! She’s doing so well. She even wrote my name in the dirt without help the other day!”
He nodded slowly, filing away the information. “I see. That is… impressive.”
Omega tilted her head then shrugged. “She said she might try reading a ration label next.”
Tech blinked. “Ration labels?”
“Yep! Said she wants to know what she’s eating before Wrecker makes her try it.” She giggled, then paused. “Why? You don’t think she can learn from me?”
“I did not say that,” he replied quickly, perhaps a bit too stiffly. “I merely did not know what… qualities you might offer that I lacked.”
Omega gave him a long look, then shrugged. “I guess I’m just more fun than you.”
Tech frowned. “Most likely.”
She smirked, but then the teasing faded, and she turned more serious. “She didn’t stop lessons with you because she doesn’t want to learn. She just… got upset.”
Tech’s brows drew together. “Upset? With me?”
Omega nodded, biting her lip. “She told me that she heard something. Well, she overheard you. You were on the ship talking to Echo about her.”
Tech’s mind reeled back. He’d said many things to Echo over the course of those conversations—some blunt, some logical, most private. “I did not say anything bad.”
Omega gave him a tight look. “You told me that she heard you say that it was ‘inefficient’ for her to be on the team because she couldn’t read.”
Tech opened his mouth, paused, then exhaled sharply.
“Ah,” he said at last. Perhaps that came out harsher than he intended.
He hadn’t yelled at you. He hadn’t scolded you. He never once implied you weren’t trying. But now, playing back through someone else’s voice, his words sounded callous.
Omega watched his face, seeing the moment it clicked.
“If it makes you feel better,” Omega started softly, “She doesn’t think you meant it, but it still hurt her. That’s why she’s been sad.”
Tech’s voice was quiet. “I see.”
Omega studied him for a beat. “You really didn’t mean it?”
He hesitated but only for a moment. “No,” he said sincerely. “I believe I was frustrated with myself. Not her. And the lesson was overly advanced. Echo pointed that out.”
Tech sighed through his nose, adjusting his gloves. “I believe I may have allowed my feelings to affect my judgment.”
Omega looks startled. “Your feelings?” She teased.
He looked away. “It is irrelevant.”
But Omega was already grinning. “You like her.”
He adjusted his goggles again, silent but not dismissive.
“I knew it.”
Tech rolled his eyes but then a thought clicked. “Did she inform you of anything else she heard? Possibly regarding my… feelings?”
Omega shook her head, “Nope, but maybe you should speak to her about that to her face.”
🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧🫧
You sat by the old log again, your knees tucked up loosely and your fingers picking at a loose thread on your pants. The sun had started to shift, casting longer shadows across the clearing. Omega was supposed to meet you soon and today's lesson would be under the trees for a change of scenery. Actually she was the one who suggested it, thinking you might like some quiet after spending so much time helping the villagers.
A twig snapped in the distance, and you smiled softly. "Omega?" you called, turning your head toward the sound.
But when the figure stepped through the trees, your breath caught in your throat.
It wasn’t Omega. It was Tech.
He moved towards you, eyes scanning the area until they landed on you. His expression was neutral and composed. Then, you swear that his gaze softened.
You scrambled to your feet, trying to act casual even as your stomach twisted. “Oh—uh, is Hunter looking for me? Do I need to head back to the village?”
Tech shook his head, stopping a few feet from you. “No. The situation there is under control. Echo and Wrecker are assisting, and Omega is occupied with another matter.”
You hesitated. “…So… you’re here instead of her?”
“Yes,” he said plainly. “I thought it appropriate that we talk, also.”
Your stomach sank a little, and you dropped your gaze to your boots, toeing the dirt. “I, um… I’m sorry I didn’t come and tell you I was dropping your lessons.”
“There is no need to apologise,” he replied, his voice measured but… gentler than you expected. “In retrospect, I recognise that my methods were poorly suited to your learning stage. I attempted to teach you material that was far too advanced, and for that, I take full responsibility.”
You looked up slowly, your throat a little tight. “I don’t think I’m ready now either,” you admitted, your voice low.
“That’s perfectly alright,” Tech said simply. “I did not come to resume formal instruction. I only wish to observe what Omega has already taught you.”
You tilted your head slightly, studying him. His shoulders weren’t tense, and there was no datapad in his hands. He looked reasonably patient which wasn’t what you had been used to.
You still hesitated. But then, he smiled and Maker, your knees almost crumbled beneath you. Curse him for being annoyingly adorable.
“S-sure,” you stammered eventually, barely managing a nod.
He stepped forward and sat beside the log without another word, resting his arms on his knees. You sat back down with him and instinctively held your hand out, ready to ask for the datapad, but Tech gently shook his head.
“Omega mentioned that using the ground has helped you more visually. I see no reason to change a method that has been working.”
You blinked at him, genuinely surprised. “You’re… being very lenient.”
“I’m being adaptable,” he corrected, though the corners of his mouth twitched like he was trying not to smile again.
You couldn’t help but return a small one of your own. “Alright… what would you like me to do?”
Tech reached into one of his belt pouches and pulled out a long, clean stick—clearly chosen specifically for this.
“Please write out the basic alphabet for me,” he said, offering it to you.
You took it and then you turned toward the dirt, drew a steadying breath, before lowering the stick.
Crouched beside the alphabet you'd just drawn in the dirt, Tech had his hands loosely clasped together. He said nothing as you finished the last letter, and though a part of you itched for his input, he simply observed in silence.
You weren’t sure if that was better or worse.
After a moment, he reached into one of his belt pouches again and carefully pulled out a folded stack of flimsi. “Omega prepared some simple quotes,” he explained. “Short phrases. Easier to process at this stage than full documents.”
He handed them over, and you took them carefully, the thin sheets a little crinkled at the edges from being carried around. You glanced down.
The first said: “Wrecker is loud.”
You gave a small huff through your nose.
The second: “Hunter smells like the forest.”
You smiled faintly. You could hear Omega’s voice in your head. As you read them out, slowly but surely, you see Tech nodding beside you with each word you get right.
The third said: “The moon is big.”
Tech, predictably, cleared his throat. “Technically, that is a misleading generalisation. There are thousands of celestial bodies classified as moons, and their size varies depending on the system. Some are smaller than a standard transport—”
You didn’t look up, but your smile widened all the same. You could practically feel the lecture coming.
You kept reading, fumbling only on a couple of the trickier words. The pace was slow, but steady. You were halfway through the last sheet when Tech said, quite suddenly:
“I’m impressed.”
You paused.
Your eyes stayed on the flimsi, but your expression changed. His voice had been gentle, even sincere—but for some reason… it didn’t land the way it used to. Not like before, when any praise from Tech would have lit you up inside.
You slowly lowered the flimsi. “You don’t have to lie to me,” you murmured.
Tech tilted his head slightly, brows drawing together. “I am not lying. I am genuinely impressed by how quickly you’ve picked up the basics. Your progress is tangible.”
But still, you didn’t look up. The compliment just didn’t feel real. Or maybe it felt too late.
There was a long pause before he spoke again.
“It has come to my attention,” he begins carefully, “that you may have overheard a conversation I had with Echo… a few days ago.”
You went still. Your grip on the flimsi tightened slightly. It was not something you wanted to talk about but supposedly getting it out in the open was better than letting it tear you up inside. And judging by Tech’s quieter approach, it was tearing him up too.
You gave a single nod, still not meeting his gaze. “I don’t want to be inefficient to you.”
Tech didn’t respond right away.
Instead, you felt the flimsi gently slip from your hand. He set them then shifted, turning his body slightly more toward you.
You let out a slight exhale when you felt his hand brush against your wrist. Just a light, uncertain touch that was enough to draw your attention.
You turned toward him slowly, sitting up straighter.
“Your strength,” he utters quietly, “has never been in what you already know… but in how determined you are to learn. That’s something even I struggle with.”
You stared at him, lips parted slightly. Your cheeks prickled with heat at the unexpected praise. He didn’t sound like he was saying it just to fix things, he genuinely meant it. “And I am sorry for what you heard. I often say things without thinking of the possible repercussions.
“…Thank you,” you reply softly, voice barely louder than the breeze through the trees.
Tech’s hand withdrew from your wrist, but his gaze lingered, as if searching your expression for more unspoken feelings. After a moment, he cleared his throat gently and adjusted his posture.
“Would you like to resume your lessons with me?” he asked.
You looked at him, your heart still thudding a little too hard. But this time, the words came easily, bright with something lighter than before.
“Yes,” you say quickly, with more eagerness than you meant to let on. “I—I’d like that.”
A flicker of something passed over Tech’s face. Maybe relief. He reached beside him and picked up the remaining flimsis from the small stack, selecting a fresh one before handing it over to you.
“Then let us continue,” he said, voice returning to that familiar cadence you knew; firm, but encouraging.
You straightened up and took the flimsi with both hands, your eyes scanning the first line.
“Wrecker… eats… all… the rations.”
Tech gave a soft snort. “That one may be based on an actual occurrence.”
You smiled and read on. The next was simple too, and the one after that. Occasionally, you stumbled. When you did, Tech didn’t chide—he simply leaned in, pointing softly to the word with a gloved fingertip, his voice low and patient.
“Try this syllable first—yes, exactly. Now the next.”
You did your best to focus on the letters but it was difficult. When he leaned that close, all cognitive thinking was out of the window. His shoulder brushed yours now and then and you could smell the faint metallic tang of his gear, mixed with the sharp scent of oil and a tinge of light sweat. However there was something else entirely him. Every time he moved nearer, your stomach fluttered like a startled flock of birds.
You were just getting into a good rhythm when you picked up the next flimsi from the pile. you could tell even before you started reading that this one was Omega’s doing.
Still, you gave it your best shot.
“Tech… has… fe-…”
You frowned, squinting at the next letters.
“Fe-el… fe-lin… no—”
Your voice trailed off as Tech suddenly reached forward and plucked the flimsi right from your hands, holding it out of view with alarmingly fast reflexes.
“That one,” he said stiffly, “was a mistake. Omega must have included it by error.”
You blinked at him. “I was just starting to get it. I saw both our names.”
He faltered. “Yes, well. She must have been… testing your recognition skills.”
Your frown deepened as you leaned slightly, trying to peer around his shoulder. “What did it say? I recognised ‘Tech’ and my name. But not the rest.”
He looked mildly horrified, holding the flimsi higher as if you might leap up and grab it. “It was… structurally inconsistent.”
“…With what?”
“With the lesson plan.”
You raised an eyebrow, slowly. “So it didn’t not say something?”
Tech cleared his throat, looking up at the sky as though he might find a convenient distraction there. “We should return to the prior reading. I believe you were progressing well.”
Your lips twitched. Despite the warm burn in your cheeks and the racing questions spinning in your head, a flicker of amusement bloomed in your chest. Because Tech was very clearly flustered.
And for once, you weren’t the only one stumbling over your words.
“I believe we should return to the lesson,” Tech resumes, voice slightly higher than usual as a flush creeps up his neck.
You bit your tongue on a grin, letting him have the diversion. For now.
“Fine. But I’ve been struggling with something.”
Tech adjusted his goggles, “Yes?”
“It’s the ‘oo’ sounds,” you said, fiddling with the stick in your hand. “Like… how do I know if it’s pronounced like in ‘book’ or ‘moon’? They look the same to me.”
“Ah,” Tech said, pleased to be back in familiar territory. “That is a very common challenge, even for native speakers of Basic. It is primarily about memorisation, but there are contextual cues…”
He gestured as he spoke, one hand drawing invisible words in the air, the other occasionally flicking toward the dusty alphabet he'd helped you draw earlier. His brow creased adorably in concentration, and it was then that you realised you’d stopped listening to the explanation. Completely.
You were watching him . Watching the way he talked, how his whole body became animated with his words.
It hit you all at once. That same warm flutter you’d felt during your very first lesson with him. When it was just you, and him, and a thousand ways he accidentally made your heart beat faster.
“Tech,” you cut in suddenly, blinking yourself back to focus. “What did Omega write?”
His hand froze mid-gesture. Slowly, his eyes widened behind his goggles. “I… do not believe that is relevant to the lesson.”
Your eyes narrowed with a teasing smirk. “That wasn’t a no.”
He shuffled slightly, edging away as if he was guilty of something.
That was all the confirmation you needed.
You lunged.
He yelped in a surprised sort of way as you dove over his lap, trying to reach the hidden flimsi. “This is not going to help with your literacy!” he protested, trying to fend you off with one arm as he reached behind him with the other.
“Oh, I think it might,” you laughed breathlessly, dodging his elbow and scrambling after the paper. “Consider it a very interactive learning experience!”
“I must protest—!” he began, but you’d already tangled yourself half across him, your fingers grazing the edge of the flimsi just before—
He rolled.
One quick movement and your world flipped, quite literally. Your back presses into the warm ground as he pinned you there. Tech hovered over you, one hand braced beside your head, the other knocking the flimsi just out of reach again.
You stilled.
He stilled.
Both of you froze in the silence that followed, hearts pounding. It wasn't from the mock wrestling, but from the fact that now Tech was so close. His goggles were slightly askew, and the wild fluster in his expression was undeniable.
Neither of you spoke. Not at first. Your hands were still tangled in the folds of his armour, his knee pressing into the dirt beside your hip, his weight above you holding you firmly in place.
“…This is also not helping with your literacy,” he said finally.
“I really didn’t mean to upset you,” he then speaks quietly, breath catching halfway through.
Your own voice was soft when you answered. “It’s okay. I’ve had two really good teachers.”
The wind picked up gently, brushing strands of hair across your face, and carrying with it the flimsis that had been scattered beside the log. You didn’t even notice them dancing away at first, neither of you willing to look anywhere else but at each other.
Your gaze broke from his however when a pale scrap fluttered to the ground just beside your hip, its scrawled ink catching your eye.
And you read it aloud before you could think twice.
“‘Tech has feelings… for…’” you read slowly, your breath catching, “f-for… y-you.”
Silence followed.
Tech didn’t speak.
Didn’t even correct your pronunciation.
Instead, his eyes dropped from yours, and you watched as the heat crept up his neck, blooming across his ears. He cleared his throat, the motion stiff and unconvincing. “That… appears to be the one Omega wrote.”
Your heart thudded. You didn’t know what to do at first or what to say. You had dreamed of hearing those words, but somehow reading them yourself felt like a different kind of victory.
Slowly, you reached for the hand he’d braced beside your head, your fingers brushing his. There was hesitation in your touch, and something in it made him glance up, brows drawn.
“I have feelings for you too,” you said softly, carried on a nervous breath.
He stared at you with those beautiful wide eyes, clearly stunned. “You… do?”
A warm laugh slipped out of you. “I do.”
And before you could say anything else, before you could even process the shift in his gaze, Tech slid an arm around your back and pulled you upright with unexpected, fluid strength.
You gasped as you landed squarely in his lap, eyes wide, your hands flying instinctively to his shoulders. “Tech!” you squeaked.
But his hands found your waist, firm but gentle, grounding you again.
He was impossibly close now. Goggles still a little wonky, breathing slightly elevated. “I believe,” he starts softly, “I no longer require you to read aloud whether I may kiss you.”
A grin tugged at your lips, heart hammering as your fingers brushed the curve of his cheek and then carefully fixing his goggles. “Well,” you murmured, barely more than a breath, “I don’t mind at all.”
The kiss met you halfway, tentative for a moment, then deepening with quiet certainty. His lips were soft, tasting of sunlight and stored-up longing, his hand moving to cradle the back of your neck like you were something rare, fragile and cherished.
And as the trees whispered overhead and a forgotten scrap of flimsi fluttered past your boots, all thoughts of lessons, of hesitation, of past hurt all melted away.
The lesson was over.
But something else had only just begun

Tags: @littlefeatherr @kaitou2417 @eyecandyeoz @jesseeka @theroguesully @ladykatakuri @arctrooper69 @padawancat97 @staycalmandhugaclone @ko-neko-san @echos-girlfriend @fiveshelmet @dangraccoon @plushymiku-blog @pb-jellybeans @nunanuggets @sleepycreativewriter @erellenora @zippingstars87 @ezras-left-thumb @the-rain-on-kamino @tentakelspektakel @stellarbit @tech-aficionado @grizabellasolo @therealnekomari @tech-depression-inventory @brynhildrmimi @greaser-wolf @kaminocasey @marvel-starwars-nerd @ladytano420 @ladyzirkonia @thesith @raevulsix @cw80831 @knightprincess @crosshairlovebot @imalovernotahater @sithstrings @whore4rex @imperialclaw801 @temple-elder @mysticalgalaxysalad @yunggoblin @photogirl894 @the-bad-batch-baroness @lulalovez
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HELL YEAH YOU WROTE IT !!! I'M SO HAPPY !
Sorry if I took time to read it, I'm hardly on tumblr these days, but I think about your fic from time to time and I'm relieved that you didn't gave up 💚
And ooooh this chapter hurts ! I'm not sad after reading it, but I can tell that it's not easy, and I want more 👀
Awake- Part 10
Crosshair X InnKeeper!FemReader
Parts 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9
**Not Canon to Season 3**
Chapter Summary: The truth is finally revealed.
Authors Notes: It’s finally here! After not 1, not 2, but 3 complete rewrites. Two breakdowns and one serious consideration of giving up. It’s done. I’m so unbelievably sorry for how long this took to come out. I just couldn’t seem to settle on how I wanted this chapter to play out.
This is currently my longest chapter by a solid 7k characters over the last longest one. (Part 8 I believe) So please strap in and prepare yourselves for a long emotional chapter!
**Im so sorry for any issues with the font or anything. With the new character limit on tumblr I’m having to figure out a new way to post these long fics.**
Awake, part of the sniper truly wished he wasn’t awake right now. He wanted so badly for this to be a nightmare. That way he could wake up and you still would care about him. But instead he was very much awake, sitting on a crate next to you. The two of you had been staring out at the clouds that glowed from the light of the sun, silence surrounding you both.
Your caf had gone cold, sitting forgotten on the edge of the platform. How much time had passed since he’d agreed to tell you everything? It had to have been at least thirty minutes. You honestly didn’t care, the last thing you wanted was to rush him. If what you had read about the situation with Mayday had been anything like what he was going to tell you then you knew this would be hard.
With the sun now in the sky, it had heated up to a comfortable temperature. You reached up and unlatched the cloak from around your throat and began to shrug it off. Tentative hands reached over and helped you pull it off, letting it pool on the crate around you. “Thank you, Crosshair.” Came from you in a whisper.
“Of course, Doll.” He looked back out at the clouds for a moment. The two of you couldn’t sit out here like this forever. “Doll? Can I ask for a favor? Before we begin?”
You turned and looked at him. “Of course. Anything.”
Crosshair looked at you with worry filled eyes. “Kiss me?” Just one last kiss before everything crumbled. One last kiss before he lost you forever.
Why did that request make your heart drop? “Of course.” You slid closer to him and tilted your head up. Instead of his usual fast and hard kisses, this one was slow and filled with more emotions than you’d ever felt from him. You sighed softly while cupping his cheek with one of your hands while the other was placed over his heart. Why? Why did this kiss feel so different? So…
Sad?
The two of you kissed for nearly an eternity until he finally pulled away. Crosshair stayed close enough for the tip of his nose to touch yours. He took in every possible detail about you from your hair, to your eyes, your smile and your nose. His hands ran up and down your arms a few times before he pulled you into a tight embrace.
He held you close as he began.
“ Ya remember everything I told ya about Order 66? How I had no control?” He felt your head nod against his chest.
Not only did you remember what he’d described, you’d also heard from Cody and Howzer what it had been like.
“What did Crosshair tell you about Order 66? What did he describe?” Cody watched as you shifted slightly.
“That he didn’t have any control and that it was like watching himself through a window.” Your leg began to bounce. “He said that because of it, clones all across the galaxy turned on their Jedi and anyone associated with them. Even the children.” A thought that still haunted you and made your stomach twist. You looked at the both of them wondering if either of them had killed children.
Howzer let out a long breath. “He’s right. I was one of the lucky clones. My Jedi had died before that and we hadn’t been assigned a new one yet.” His deep brown eyes looked at Cody. “Others, not so much.”
You followed his gaze. “You don’t hav-“ Cody shook his head and stopped you before you could finish your sentence.
“Kix has said it’s better that we openly talk about it. Instead of keeping it locked up.” He sighed and reached into his pocket, pulling out his datapad. “My General was by far one of the best there ever was. He was smart, wise and brave.” Cody let out a long sigh. “I loved him.” Tapping his screen, an image of him and a man with auburn hair and a matching beard appeared. Both men were smiling with their foreheads pressed together. They looked so happy together.
“He’s very handsome.” You spoke softly while reaching over and taking his free hand in yours.
Cody squeezed your hand gently. “He was.” His eyes didn’t leave the holo. “We were in the middle of battle on Utapau when we received the order. I had just handed him his lightsaber when we got the call.” A light chuckle left the clone commander. “He was always losing it. He’d tell the others that their lightsabers were their lives and yet I think he dropped it more than the others.” Cody looked down at his hip where a lightsaber hook still sat. Even after all this time, he couldn’t remove it.
You let a soft smile form on your lips. It reminded you of how Stitches would always misplace something. The man took a shuttered breath before continuing.
“One moment I was watching him ride off on his Boga, laughing at the way that man had lost his damn saber again, and then the next I was locked behind a soundproof window. Banging, screaming and pleading with my body as it gave the order to shoot him.” He closed his eyes, trying to fight back tears. “I watched the man I love fall to his death at my orders.”
Howzer reached over and squeezed his vods shoulder gently. “So many others out there have the same stories.” He thought about Bly and General Secura.
You couldn’t stop yourself from reaching up and placing a hand on Cody’s cheek. “Was it common for one of you to fall in love with your Jedi?”
“Could you blame us?” Cody released your hand and raised it to touch the other one. “We spent all of our time with them. Got to know each and everyone of them. Every part of them and their personalities. There of course were the ones that saw us as nothing but fodder. But they were a minority against those who cared about us.” He appreciated the kindness and sympathy you were passing to him.
“Not everyone fell for their Jedi.” Howzer hummed softly. “Fox fell for Senator Chuchi.” He still remembered the day Fox told him and the others that he and Riyo had secretly gotten married. “Married her two standard weeks before everything happened.”
Fox? You’d heard that name before. “He’s the one all of you are trying to find. Right?”
Cody had put his datapad away. “He is. Senator Chuchi has done a lot for the rebellion and the Path. It’s the least we can do to pay her back.”
Your eyes went wide. You had known that they’d been working on something secret and dangerous. But the rebellion! It all made so much sense now! “What’s the Path?” Both men looked at each other before looking at you warily. You rolled your eyes. “Chai is doing something top secret. Stitches is making a bunch of clothes for men, women and children. I seem to be the only one not on the up and up. So what is it and how can I help?”
Howzer couldn’t resist smirking. You didn’t shy away from anything it seemed. No wonder Crosshair had fallen for you. The teal clone chuckled for a moment before hearing the terminal near them beep. Standing up, he walked over to it and tapped a few buttons. After a quiet moment, the screen became filled with information and an image of a clone trooper. “Rex can tell ya about it later.” Howzer stepped to the side so you could see. “Maydays file just arrived.”
“I had to watch as my body did horrendous things.” He buried his face into your hair, taking the scent in. Trying to engrave it into his memory. What he was about to say would end all of this. “Doll…” he held you tight. “I killed so many civilians.”
You tensed against him. “B-but not children…right? You said you didn’t kill any children.” Right? Right!
Crosshair closed his eyes, this was it. “Not Jedi children…” He felt your arms release him, but you didn’t try to pull away.
“What happened?” Your arms hung at your side as his words settled in.
“ After Order 66, we returned to Kamino to find that things had drastically changed. The Empire had taken over and was quickly changing everything. They wanted to test us, see how loyal we truly were.” Crosshair waited for you to pull away, to put distance between the two of you. But you didn’t. Instead you seemed to move closer to him. “So they sent us to take care of some insurgents. We thought that meant droids. Instead, we found refugees. Men, women, and children on the run. We also found Saw Gerrera.”
You don’t know why, but your blood ran cold and your arms suddenly wrapped around his waist tightly. “Th-then what happened?”
Crosshair sighed. “Hunter let them escape. We thought that would be the last we’d ever see of him.”
“But it wasn’t.” You couldn’t bring yourself to look at him. Not yet. You needed to hear the rest of what he had to say.
“No. It wasn’t.” He took a shuttered breath. “After we returned to Kamino, things changed. The others were imprisoned and I was taken to the infirmary. While Tarkin enhanced my chip, the others made an escape with Omega.” He could still remember the shock he felt when she actually shot his rifle from his hands. He’d truly underestimated the girl. “After that, the Empire started recruiting actual civilians for their army. I was assigned my own squad. Our first mission they sent us to track down Gerrera.”
“Your own squad?” So he had been in command?
Crosshair nodded. “A bunch of civilians who thought they were fighting the right fight. We tracked down Gerrera and moved in to apprehend them. But by the time we got there, he was gone. All we found was another group of refugees.” As much as it pained him to do it, he released you and stepped away. “Doll…I…I’m so sorry to tell you this.”
Your bottom lip began to tremble as he continued to talk. How many times had you told him that you wouldn’t judge him? That he wasn’t a horrible man? All you wanted now was for him to stop talking. The absolute fear taking you over right now was on the verge of making you sick. “C-Crosshair?” Tears began to streak down your face. Please don’t say it. Please.
“I…I killed them all. Even the children.” The cry you let out as you collapsed in shock to the ground would haunt him for the rest of his life. He stepped towards you but stopped. What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do?
“Why?” It came out in a choked sob.
This is what he’d been afraid of. “Because they wouldn’t tell us where he’d gone. Doll, I need you to understand that I didn’t want to do it. “
“I…I know.” You did. You truly did. But it still… “Please. I need a minute.”
He watched you stand up and walk inside before he could even answer. “Doll, I’m sorry.” Crosshair felt something roll down his cheek. He refused to touch it.
The sniper already knew what it was.
-*-
You rushed towards… somewhere. Anywhere! It was like your feet couldn’t move fast enough!
“Doll?” Echo stopped in the middle of the main room, surprised to see you rushing through.
With zero hesitation, you rushed across the room and buried your face into the clone's chest. “Echo.” You couldn’t help it. You needed someone right now.
Echo had not expected that! The way you had choked out his name had made it clear you needed someone though. He did hold his arms up in shock however. “What’s going on? Where’s Crosshair?”
“Echo?” Howzer looked up from the terminal he was at. “Oh no.” He walked over to the two of you. “Doll? Did the two of you talk?” You nodded against Echos chest. “He told you about what happened while he was under the chip?” Another nod. “Do you want to talk about it?” You shrugged. “Come on.” He motioned towards the table you’d sat up earlier.
“I’m gonna go check on Crosshair.” Echo carefully ran a protective hand over your hair for a moment. “Is that okay?” You nodded against his chest as another sob left you. “I’ll be back in a little bit.” After another moment, he felt you pull away. Echo took a step back and allowed Howzer to step into his place.
Howzer pulled you close and rubbed your arm gently. “Come on, burc’ya.”
-*-
“Crosshair.” Echo stood a few feet behind the sniper. “What did you tell her?”
Crosshair sat on the edge of the platform staring out at the clouds around them. “Everything I could.”
Echo took a deep breath before walking over to the edge as well. It took him a moment to sit down but when he did, he let his leg dangle over the edge. “What does that mean? What exactly did you tell her?”
“About the refugees on Onderon.” He didn’t look at his vod.
“The ones we let go?” Why would you be upset about that?
The sniper shuttered a breath. “No. The ones I killed in cold blood.”
Echo blinked a few times. “All of them?” No. He couldn’t have.
“All of them. The men, women, and ….children.” Everytime he said it or thought about it, it made him sick. He was a monster. His sad brown eyes slid down and looked at the long drop below him. You were inside crying because of him. He’d destroyed your perception of him. Even worse, he hurt you. It would be so easy to just…fall.
Oh Kriff. That…that was worse than he expected. Echo puffed his cheeks and let out a long whistle. “Well that…yeah that’s…a lot.” Oh man. There might not be any coming back from that.
“Did I make the mistake of telling her?” He’d wanted to be honest with you for so long. But this…was it truly worth revealing who he really was to you?
This was the most vulnerable Echo had ever seen the sniper. He’d always held this strong and confident air. Being imprisoned had truly changed him. You had truly changed him. “Depends. How much do you care about her?”
Crosshair took a long breath as he thought about your smile, your laugh, the way you always seemed to know he needed you and the way you never judged him. “More than I realized.”
“Then I think you know the answer.”
-*-
“All of you?” You looked at Cody and Howzer. Across the room Rex was speaking to someone at the holotable. A conversation that you couldn’t hear.
Howzer nodded solemnly while crossing his arms. “Yeah.” He sighed. “So many of us had to sit back in our own minds and watch our bodies attack civilians. Take over planets we’d previously rescued and imprison those we’d liberated. His amber eyes turned towards Rex. “Almost all of us.”
You followed his gaze. “He didn’t? Was his chip removed before it happened?”
Cody shook his head. “He fought it. The activation. Fought it long enough to give his Jedi a chance.” Well…kind of Jedi. It was a weird thing that he honestly didn’t want to dive into. “She used that chance to isolate him and remove his chip.”
“But how did he fight it?” You watched the blonde walk across the room to a different terminal.
“He had a warning.” Echo’s voice from behind you made you jump slightly. “Sorry for spooking ya.” He placed a gentle hand on your shoulder before stepping around the crate and sitting next to you. “You okay?” He asked softly, reaching up and brushing a strand of your hair out of your face.
“Kind of. I’m still trying to wrap my head around it. Understand it all.” You let out a sad sigh. “Is he…okay?”
Echo took a moment before nodding. “He will be.”
Well that was something, right? “What did you mean that he had a warning? Rex, that is.”
“Fives, my twin.” Echo pulled out his datapad and pulled up a holo of him, Rex, Cody and Fives from Rishi, his favorite picture. He passed the device to you.
Wow, Fives and him looked so much alike. Yes, clones all looked alike. But the sets of twins, you really understood now why they were called that. Tech and Crosshair looked alike, especially in the eyes, and now you could see how Echo and Fives did as well. It was the smile. They shared the same smile. If you tried to explain this to anyone who didn’t really know the clones then they’d think you were crazy. But something told you that Chai and Stitches would understand. A little chuckle left you as your eyes slid to Cody. “Weird seeing you without a beard.” You joked softly.
Cody shrugged. “Gotta admit, it grew on me.” A long groan came from Howzer. The Marshal Commander couldn’t help but smile. Obi-wan would have been proud of the joke.
“That was so bad.” You shook your head with a slight smile. In a way it felt wrong to smile while talking about something so dark. But it helped the pain in your heart subside a little. Taking a breath, you looked back at Echo. “How did he find out?”
“Well…”
-*-
“Crosshair?” You stood in the doorway of the landing pad once more. The sun was now beginning to set. You felt bad that you’d left him out here this long. But you’d needed time to wrap your head around what he’d told you and what the others had said as well.
“Fives had learned about the chip after one of our brothers', Tup’s, chips malfunctioned and activated early. Tup killed his Jedi General. Fives thought something was off about the situation. So he started investigating things. Long story short, he figured out Order 66 and that Palpatine was behind it. Tried to warn Rex and our General. But Palpatine had him neutralized.” Echo stared at Rex. “Rex filed a complaint revealing what Fives told him. When the order came through, Rex was able to resist it. I think that was because of what my twin told him. Ahsoka helped remove his chip. Ever since then, Rex has been helping other clones remove theirs.”
One of the clones had known prior to Order 66 happening and had tried to warn everyone. But no one believed him. So much sadness, pain, and death was caused because no one believed that soldier. You could see it in the eyes of every clone you passed here that they all carried the weight of their actions under the chips deep within them. It seemed it had been threaded into their entire being like their own DNA was. It would take a long time for them to recover from those horrors. You stared at Crosshair as he looked over his shoulder at you. But what if… what if some didn’t recover at all? How many would be driven to insanity…or worse if they couldn’t recover.
Would he be one of them?
The thought practically destroyed you to think about. His eyes met with yours and you realized that your legs couldn’t move. You thought you could do this. You thought you could handle talking to him more and learning why Saw Garrera had affected him so harshly. But looking into those brown eyes that held so much sadness and guilt, killed you. With a soft gasp, you turned around and buried your face into your hands. You weren’t strong enough to do this. You’d failed him.
“Doll” Crosshair spoke carefully as he stood from the edge of the landing pad. His steps to you were careful, like he was approaching a scared mouse. The sniper worried that one wrong step would have you fleeing back inside.
You could hear his footsteps getting closer to you. Your brain screamed at you to run away. To protect yourself from even more sadness. But your heart reminded you of why you were feeling this way. You had asked to know what he’d gone through. Why he thought so little of himself. This was your chance. “I…I don’t think I can look at you yet.”
Crosshair stopped just a few feet from you. “I see.” He shouldn’t have been surprised that you feared him now. Maybe even hated him. He’d revealed the horrors that he’d done.
“B-but I want to know the rest.” You reached your hand out behind you.
Crosshair took it instantly. “Doll, you don’t have to.” He looked down at your trembling hand.
You shook your head quickly. “I want to, Crosshair. Please. Tell me it all.” A squeeze was passed to his hand from yours.
“I understand.” Not really. Why? Why would you want to continue putting yourself through this pain? Why would you want to keep hurting yourself listening to what he’d been through? You didn’t deserve this. He was hurting you by telling you.
What kind of man was he?
“Then please, don’t hide any of it?” You asked softly while slowly backing towards him. It only took a few steps for you to meet his body. With a gentle tug, you pulled his hand around you so it would hold your waist. His other hand followed suit.
Crosshair didn’t hesitate to hold you close to him. His hands slid from your waist to your stomach and overlapped. He buried his face into your neck, closed his eyes and took a long deep breath. You didn’t smell like you usually did. Like the inn, your perfume, your shampoo or even your bed. No, you smelled like dirt, caf and clone. He hated it. All he wanted at this moment was to get you home but he knew that if he didnt take this chance to fully open up to you. That he never would.
-*-
The two of you stood there for another hour as Crosshair told you about the next missions he went on. He explained how he’d hunted his brothers and sister down mercilessly. Following them everywhere he could in hopes of getting rid of them and bringing Omega back to the Empire. He explained how he’d followed them to the shipyard where they were having their chips removed and the resulting incident that gave him his burn scar.
It was also what began his freedom from their hold.
“My chip was damaged after that. So I had it removed. As far as the Empire was concerned, I was so fiercely loyal to them that the chip wouldn’t be needed anymore anyway. “ He couldn’t help but actually chuckle at that. “They underestimated the mental strength of a clone though. It didn’t happen right away. But as the months ticked by I became stronger than the programming. The removal of my chip had disillusioned me to what side the Empire was really on. The more missions I went on and the more orders I was given, the more my mind started to clear.”
However, that realization didn’t come soon enough and he was sent to Ryloth. This was how he’d met Howzer and framed Cham Sandulla for the attempted assassination of Senator Taa. Crosshair explained how he’d been the one to order Howzer to be arrested as well as the men that had sided with the teal clone. The whole time he was already fighting himself to take back control.
“Syndulla’s daughter escaped.” Thankfully. “ Last I heard she was part of the rebellion.”
At least one child he hadn’t killed.
Kamino came next, he explained. Hunter had been captured and brought back to Tipoca to be tortured. Unsurprisingly the others had also returned to save him. It was part of the perfect trap. The Batch had always been loyal to each other. It was both their strength and their weakness. Crosshair explained how he’d used Hunters com to lure the rest of the batch to the city. How he’d finally revealed how he felt betrayed by them as well as disposing of his current squad when they didn’t lower their weapons. After being knocked unconscious by his vod, he’d awoken to a destroyed Tipoca.
Their home was gone.
He’d expected them to turn their back on him once more and leave him there. But the kid, Omega, she wouldn’t let them. Wouldn’t let him stay behind. They worked together to escape the ruins before the city completely sank and at the end, when Omega almost lost her closest friend, Crosshair stepped up and saved him.
“But I could see it in their eyes, they still didn’t trust me.”
He didn’t blame them either.
“I made a stupid decision after that. When they left, I stayed and waited for the Empire.”
Thirty two rotations. He’d waited thirty two rotations for the Empire to come back. That’s when his mind had truly begun to fight the programming.
His first mission back had been with Cody.“It was strange seeing him without his orange paint. It was yet another realization that what we were doing couldn’t be right. Commander Cody. The most loyal clone you could find. Had dimmed his colors.” The mission had gone… successfully. As successful as a mission that ended with the body of the offender being displayed in the town center as a ‘warning’.
When Cody went AWOL after asking Crosshair if what they were doing really was the right thing, it flipped a switch in his mind. When Marshall Commander Cody, the clone paired with Obi-Wan Kenobi, went AWOL something was wrong.
It all came to a head on Barton IV.
“Mayday” He almost whispered while burying his face into your hair. Crosshair didn’t like thinking about Mayday.
You turned then and buried your face in his chest. You already knew about Mayday. But you wanted to hear it all from his point of view. Wrapping your arms around his waist, you squeezed him gently, telling him to continue.
Still, you were unable to look at him.
“When I met Mayday it was just him. The rest of his squad had been killed by anything and everything on Barton IV. Bandits, ice Vultures, and ice wyrms. I don’t know exactly how long Mayday had been on his own at that point. But it had been long enough for him to be pissed off at the Empire.” Crosshair thought about the small shrine Mayday had set up for his fallen men. It was a gruesome reminder of the fate of a clone. Crosshair went on to explain how the depot had been attacked by intruders who’d stolen the precious cargo the Empire wanted.“Mayday and I were the lucky two clones chosen to hunt them down and bring back the cargo. Found them quick enough as well as the cargo.”The cargo that had been fucking infuriating to see. “During the takedown of the bandits an avalanche was triggered. Mayday protected me and was injured in the process.” Crosshair let a long sigh leave him as he squeezed his eyes closed. “It took us days to get back to the depot. Mayday was barely hanging on. By the time we made it back to the depot, he was near death. Lieutenant Nolan spent the time that could have been used to help Mayday to instead reprimand us for losing their precious stormtrooper armor.” Crosshair tightened his hold on you.
“He died in my arms.”
You let out a shuddered breath. The file in Mayday had been so painfully different. All it had said was that he was killed in an attack by intruders.
“I lost it. I killed Nolan. Finally broken free of my programming. I collapsed and woke up in prison. Strapped to a table.”
So that had been it. That had been what he’d gone through. There was still the topic of Saw Garrera. But at this point you were so emotionally drained that you finally couldn’t focus anymore. “I’m so sorry.” You spoke so softly that you weren’t sure he’d even heard you. “I still want to hear the rest but…I think…I think I need a break.” You were so tired. So so tired.
“I understand.” Crosshair released you to step back and allow you to walk away. But you didn’t release him, making him feel confused.
“Please.” You choked out. “Can we please go to bed.”
‘We’? You wanted him to go with you? “We?”
You didn’t speak. Instead only nodding against him. Tears were once again burning your eyes and you knew you couldn’t let him see you like this. It wouldn’t be fair to him. You’d told him you’d listen and still care for him. Crying felt like you were going back on that.
Crosshair wrapped his arms around you once more and held you as he tried to understand why you still wanted to be near him. To go to bed with him and share your warmth. He was a murderer. He’d killed innocent people.
Innocent children.
He’d helped with the subjugation of communities all in the name of the Empire. People who didn’t give two fucks about him and his brothers.
“Okay.” Tomorrow when your head was clear and you’d had time to think and understand everything would most likely be when you changed your mind about him. “Let’s head back to the room.” The sniper moved to guide you back to your waiting cots, but found resistance. “Doll?” He asked gently.
“I want to go back to Pabu. To a warm bed. Our warm bed.” You didn’t want to be here anymore. In this cold place that seemed to only house sadness. Yes, there had been some laughter with Cody and the others inside. But it felt fake. Like a bad patch over a hole in the wall. Get it wet just a little and it would break away, revealing the hole. They were all sad and carrying their own baggage.
‘Our warm bed.’ Why did that make him happy to hear? Now wasn’t the time to feel that way. He’d destroyed your perception of him. Gone was the misunderstood man you thought he was and now in his place stood a monster.
Why would you want to share your warm bed with him?
Why would you want him to go back to the inn with you?
Why?
“Okay.” He spoke again. “I’ll talk to Rex.”
-*-
It was strange. A few days ago you were sitting in this exact seat heading to Crosshair to help him. Your mind filled with worry about him. Worry about what you’d find when the ship landed. Now?
Now you were heading home with a confused heart. Deep down you knew you still cared about him. You still…loved him.
But how? How could you really focus on your love for him when he’d done such terrible things?
Echo stood in the doorway of the cockpit staring at the two of you. He’d made the decision to let Crosshair pilot home instead of doing it himself. It would allow the two of you to be together, even if it was in silence.
Three hours in total silence wasn’t as odd as someone would think. Not when Crosshair was involved. The sniper could easily go days without speaking. But you? It was so odd to see you so silent. You didn’t even look at Crosshair. It was worrying. Echo let out a sigh before turning to head out of the cockpit.
“Tell me the rest about Saw Garrera?” Your voice was soft, barely audible over the hum of the ship.
Crosshair, who was staring straight out of the windshield, looked at you slowly. You were sitting with your knees pulled up to your chin and your eyes fixed out at the swirling blue of the hyperspace jump. “Doll, you don’t ….”
“I do. I want to know why you’re so desperate to find him even after being freed from your chip.” You still couldn’t bring yourself to look at him.
Even when the two of you went inside to ask Rex to take you back to Pabu, you didn’t look at him. You tried, you did. But the moment you even looked at his chest you found your stomach beginning to twist. You couldn’t do it, you just couldn’t.
As much as you just wanted to go to sleep and dream that you hadn’t in fact learned everything you’d learned today, you knew it had needed to happen at some point. There had been no denying it when you saw him in his room a few days ago.
You loved him. You loved Crosshair.
So you knew you needed to know everything about him and that there was a strong chance that what he told you would be horrible. But never had you expected it to be this. Did it diminish how you felt about him?
No.
Deep down you knew it didn’t. But right now, in this moment, you found it so unbelievably hard to look at him and not see a monster. A man forced to kill children. Innocent children. Just the thought made your chest hurt again and you fought back the tears trying to leave you.
It wasn’t his fault. That voice in your head told you.
You knew it wasn’t. It was the Kaminoans for putting that chip in his head. It was the Empire’s fault for activating that chip. It was Saw Garrera’s fault for leaving those refugees behind. Most importantly though.
It wasn’t his fault.
Echo looked back at Crosshair. “I can do that if you want.” He mouthed to his vod.
Crosshair shook his head though before motioning for Echo to leave the room. Only once the door shut did Crosshair finally walk over to you. He knelt on the cold durasteel and took your hand in his.
“Even after I was imprisoned, he continued to be a thorn in the Empire’s and the Rebellion's side.”
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My fucking pc didn't post my reblog and it's been days since I've thought I posted it ;O; SO ! I wanted to say that I at last could read this chapter completely and I was very happy, I loved it !
My dirty mind especially loved the ending, when Hunter got excited and Wren felt more confident because of it, I know the feeling, it's very pleasing 💚👀👌
Patience & Trust: Chapter 4
I Trust You, Completely
Author's Note: I thought this was the chapter where I would write the meeting of Wren and @substantial-exposure's OC, Tulip. But then the words got away from me, and it was becoming too long to get to that point. So that will be the next chapter. This was the set-up to that.
Summary: Set in a modern AU: Wren is a librarian who meets Omega, a twelve-year-old living with her five older brothers. Omega feels Wren and her oldest brother, Hunter, would be good for each other and tries to play matchmaker. Wren's anxiety and shyness make that more difficult than Omega hoped. Wren is based on me and my experiences with anxiety and how it affected my relationship with my husband. This sequel begins in the early days of their relationship. There are still struggles, because her anxiety hasn't magically disappeared. But because of Hunter's patience and Wren's trust, they're able to make it work.
Pairing: Modern AU Hunter x F!OC
Word Count: 4908
Warnings: Mild swearing, talk of anxiety, especially social anxiety and shyness, light kissing and mention of sexual arousal. Modern AU.
Inspiration: My modern AU was inspired by the amazing Modern Batch AU and Modern Fives AU stories by kaydear (Illyria_Lives) on AO3. Not to be overly dramatic, but they changed my life. I borrowed some of their background from those stories, with the author's permission.
Previous Chapter
Patience & Trust Masterlist (the sequel)
Hunter and the Librarian Masterlist (the original)
Dividers by animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Wren was surprised when she received a text Monday afternoon, and especially when she saw it was from Hunter.
H: Hey, Wren! I hope you're good. I wondered what you were doing Friday. I know it's kind of short notice, and you are probably scheduled to work, but I'm going to be off, because we're going to be waiting for a delayed shipment of materials. And I wondered if you would want to come over to our house to hang out.
He knew it was a long shot, but he wanted to try. After finding out that he would have the day off, he thought it would be nice for her to hang out with him at his house. Especially when it would be quieter, because most of his siblings would be at work or school. Wrecker had already said he was going fishing that day, since he didn't have to work. But Hunter would much rather have a quiet time at home with Wren than go fishing with his brother. No offense to Wrecker, of course. And Crosshair would probably be there, but sleeping.
Hunter didn't plan on anything intimate happening, he knew Wren wasn't ready for that. But he thought maybe some snuggling might be a possibility. It had been too long (it had been over a week!) And it would be nice to not have his siblings' eyes on them as they were snuggled up on the couch watching TV.
When Wren saw his text, she was a little surprised. She hadn't expected anything like that. And to take off work, just to hang out? That's not something she normally did. But these were not normal times. She had a boyfriend now (she still couldn't believe that), so she could do things a little differently if she wanted. She had plenty of vacation time she could take. Amanda was always pushing her to take time off. Oh...what the hell!
W: Hey, Hunter. As a matter of fact, I can take the day off. Amanda is always pushing me to take vacation time...I have a lot saved up. So this sounds like a good time to do that. Did you have anything in mind? I mean, should I bring something.
H: Nope, just your cute self. I don't really have plans, I thought maybe we could just hang and watch TV or a movie or something, without the prying eyes of my siblings. Crosshair is the only one who will be here until later in the afternoon. And he'll be sleeping for a big part of the day.
She was just going to ignore that "your cute self" bit, although her face did get hot just reading it, and she's sure if anyone saw her she looked like a tomato.
W: Yeah, sure. That sounds good! What time?
H: Would you want to come around mid-morning? Like 10:00 maybe?
W: Yeah, that would be great.
H: Cool! I'll probably talk to you before then. I just wanted to ask you in plenty of time for you to ask for the time off if you wanted.
W: Thanks, Hunter!
H: Of course, talk to you later!
W: Okay, bye.
Amanda walked by around that time and said, "Now that is an interesting look on your face. What's up? I can't even tell if it's good or bad," and she laughed.
"Well, I think it's good. I'm just surprised. That was Hunter, and he asked me if I would be able to take off work this Friday."
Amanda raised her eyebrows and said, "Why, what does he have in mind?"
"He said maybe we could just hang out at his house." She looked at his texts again. "He said hang out and watch TV or something but without the 'prying eyes' of his siblings." A small smile crossed her face.
"Ooooh, alone time?" Amanda had a teasing tone in her voice.
Wren rolled her eyes and said, "Shut up." But she couldn't help the smile that got a little bigger.
"I'm teasing. But it does sound promising, right?"
"I guess. Yeah. I need to ask Robin if I can take off though."
"Oh she's not going to care. Do it right now. I'm not going to let you put it off until it's so late she can't approve it. Do it." She pointed at Wren's computer.
"You are so bossy!" Wren laughed quietly, but logged into the system where they submit their leave requests. She filled out the request to take Friday off and clicked submit. "Happy?" She looked at Amanda.
"Yes! Very. Thank you!" She laughed quietly, patted Wren on the shoulder, and went back to the front desk.
Wren felt giddy at that point, excited that Hunter wanted her to be there Friday to hang out. She would get nervous closer to time, but for now she was just going to enjoy the fact that he still wanted to be with her. Not that she thought he would have changed his mind overnight, but the reassurance is welcome.
The rest of the week was pretty uneventful. Hunter texted a couple of times to say hi. Wren texted a couple of times for the same reason. They weren't long conversations, just touching base, letting the other person know they were thinking of them. It made the week so much better than the previous one when Wren missed him so much. And she had to assume he wasn't "quiet and broody" either.
On Thursday night, he texted:
H: Are we still on for tomorrow?
W: Yes, definitely!
H: Okay, great. Looking forward to it.
W: Me too.
She could feel it...she had the biggest, dopiest smile on her face. And part of that was because she realized...she wasn't nervous! This might be the first time she was going to be around him when she was not nervous ahead of time. She was actually looking forward to it. They were going to be doing something she was familiar with, just hanging out at home. And she loved watching TV with him, because they would cuddle. And as he said, his siblings wouldn't be there, watching.
Giddy. She was giddy.
Hunter woke up on Friday morning in a much better mood than he usually was that early. He was not a morning person. He went ahead and got up in time to see Omega off to school. Echo had taken care of breakfast for her, as he usually did. Hunter and Wrecker were usually leaving around the time she was getting ready to eat. But today he was able to just sit with her and drink his coffee and eat some toast.
He had told everyone that Wren was going to be coming over to hang out. He only got a little shit from his brothers when Omega was out of earshot.
"Oh, Hunter, playing hooky from work to hang out with your girlfriend?" That was from Wrecker.
"Wrecker, you know why I'm 'playing hooky' from work. We're waiting on the shipment of supplies." He gave his brother an unamused look.
"Yeah, I know. But it's awfully convenient that she was off today as well."
"I told you, I asked her if she could take off, after I knew we weren't going to be working." He was getting exasperated.
"Let it go, Hunter. He's just giving you shit," Echo spoke up.
"I know he is. I just don't want it to seem like I had some grand scheme. I just thought about it after we found out about the delayed shipment and wondered if she might be available."
Wrecker just laughed. "I'm just bustin' your balls! I'm glad you're going to get some alone time. Crosshair will be here, but he won't come out of his room, I'm sure."
Echo said, "I'll be gone most of the day. We're having some special events at the clinic. I'll probably be home around 4:00."
That had been the day before.
Omega was finishing up her breakfast, Tech was getting his coffee ready to go, Wrecker had already left, wanting to get an early start on the fish.
Hunter stood up as Omega did and held out his arms for a hug. "Have a good day, kid."
"Okay. Will Wren still be here when I get home?"
"I'm not sure, but I think there's a good chance of it."
"Good!" As she was getting ready to walk out the door to wait for the bus, she said, "Oh, Tulip's here?!"
She turned excitedly to Hunter. He looked surprised and walked closer to the door, looking out. He saw Crosshair's on-again-off-again girlfriend's red sports car in the driveway.
"I guess she is. I didn't realize that." He was quiet, considering how this might affect his plans for the day.
"So she will get to meet Wren! I wish I was going to be here for that!"
"Well, you know Crosshair and Tulip neither one are early risers, so they might still be in bed by the time you get home." He smiled at her, but he was a little concerned.
"Well, either way, it's going to be fun for them to meet."
"Okay, well, you'd better get out there before you miss the bus, kid." He kissed her on top of her head and opened the door for her. She walked down the stairs and turned around and waved before jogging out to the street. She saw the kid across the street coming out at the same time and waved at them. Hunter turned and went back inside, shutting the door behind him.
He was deep in thought at that point though. He didn't realize Tulip would be in the house today. They never knew when she might stay over with Crosshair. They were on their own schedule. Hunter liked Tulip, and he thought she was good for his brother. He just wasn't sure what their situation actually was. She was nice to Omega though and would take her out shopping or for ice cream now and then. And Omega thought a lot of her, so he appreciated how kind she was to the girl. Especially since she didn't have a lot of women in her life.
He walked into the kitchen. "Did you know Tulip was here?"
Echo said, "Yeah, I heard them come in last night. You're over in your corner in there, so you don't hear as much as me. I could hear them coming up the stairs. But they weren't loud. I just knew she was here. Is that a problem?"
"No, it shouldn't be. They're usually up there most of the day anyway, sleeping. It's just I didn't warn Wren that someone new would be here. I know how she is with meeting new people, so I didn't want to spring something on her. I'll tell her when she gets here."
"Good idea. Now, I need to get ready to go. Would you mind to clean up in here?"
Hunter nodded and said, "Sure, I've got it."
"Thanks, Hunter." Echo went upstairs to finish getting ready.
Hunter had a couple of hours before Wren would be there. He would clean up the kitchen, then hit the shower.
As he washed the few dishes they'd made, he thought about how he would handle Wren being there at the same time as Tulip. It wouldn't be a big deal, he was sure of it. He liked Tulip. He liked how she seemed to be able to put Crosshair in his place more than the rest of them. He really didn't know what their actual status was. There would be long stretches where they wouldn't see her around. But he realized that didn't mean they weren't seeing each other away from the house. Crosshair was very private.
Echo left about five minutes after he went upstairs. He said, "I'll see you later this afternoon, Hunter."
"Okay, have a good day."
"You too, buddy," and Echo winked when he said that. Hunter just rolled his eyes.
After the kitchen was cleaned up, he grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom to shower. As he looked in the mirror, he noticed his eyes. There was something there that he was not used to seeing. Can your eyes look happy? Because he felt like his eyes looked happy. He really was happy.
By the time he got out of the bathroom, it was 9:30. He remembered that he needed to make his bed. He didn't always do that, but he definitely didn't want his bed to be messy when she was going to be there. Not that he thought she would see it, but just in case.
The thought of that gave him butterflies. He wasn't sure what the plan was for their time together, but he just wanted to make sure everything was neat.
After making his bed, he started picking up other things. The house looked okay, but there were some things sitting around that he put away. He took a few things up to Omega's room.
By the time he was finished with all that, he heard a car pull up outside. He looked out the window and saw Wren getting out of her car parked at the curb. His stomach did a little flip.
He waited until she'd reached the porch steps and then opened the door. He could tell he startled her a little bit, so he immediately said, "I'm sorry!"
"It's okay. I was lost in thought," she said as she smiled at him.
He stepped off to the side, holding the door open for her, so she could walk in.
As she was taking off her shoes, he asked her how she was.
"I'm good. Glad to be here." She stood up and after the slightest hesitation, she moved towards him. But she moved slowly enough that if he wasn't interested in a hug, he easily could have backed away or acted like he didn't know what she was doing. But he sure wasn't going to do that.
He held out his arms a little so she could go in for a hug. They stood there, hugging, for what felt like minutes. It was probably only thirty seconds. Her head was on his shoulder, and he rested his head on hers.
"I'm glad you're here too," he whispered. He kissed the top of her head as he pulled back. "I was looking to see what's on TV at this time of day. I'm usually not home on weekdays."
"Me either," she said with a smile.
"Well, there isn't a lot for us to choose from."
She said, "That's okay, we don't have to really watch anything. We can just hang out."
"Well, that's what I was wondering about. I have a stereo in my room." He pointed towards the back of the house. "I wondered if you would want to listen to some music instead. Back there."
Her eyes opened just a little wider, but she did a good job of controlling her expression. He was trying to read her face, to see if she was uncomfortable, but he didn't see anything to indicate that she was.
"Back there, in your room? Like, on the bed?" She was wanting to make sure she knew exactly what he meant.
"Yeah, but only if you want. No pressure! I just thought we could cuddle like we do on the couch, but in a more comfortable place... listening to music...instead of watching TV."
He had an almost hopeful look on his face that wasn't lost on her.
He was quick to add, "We would stay on top of the covers. I don't have an ulterior motive, I swear."
The corners of her mouth slowly lifted as she noticed his nervousness. He didn't get that way very often, that was her thing. So to see it, made her feel like he must really be nervous about this particular thing. She wanted to put him at ease as quickly as possible.
"Yeah, I'd like that. And don't worry, Hunter, I trust you. Completely." She reached out to take his hands in hers, and stood looking at him for a few more seconds.
He smiled at her, and felt a flutter in his chest. He's usually not a nervous guy, but there was something about the way she was looking at him, the complete trust he saw on her face, that caused a bit of apprehension in him.
It was as if she was placing her heart in his hands, fully. And he knew he wouldn't purposely break that trust or do anything to make her regret that, but what if he messed up. He wasn't a perfect guy. He still screwed up. A lot. It took so much effort and time to get through to her, to let her know how much he cared about her. it would be devastating to her if he broke that trust.
He imperceptibly shook his head, clearing out those ridiculous thoughts. She was here, with him, in his house, without his siblings' prying eyes. He didn't want to ruin that by worrying about messing up.
"Okay, good," he finally responded. He dropped one of her hands, but kept hold of the other as the walked towards his room. "Did you want a drink?"
"No, I'm okay, thanks." He felt her lean into him more, and the warmth he felt spread from his head to his toes.
He led her into the small room she was already familiar with from the day she needed quiet away from everyone. She noticed the mirror again and felt her cheeks get warm.
"Okay, I don't really know what kind of music you like..." he began.
"Well, what kind do you like. Or what kind do you have, and I'll tell you which I'd prefer." She stood behind him looking at his CD collection.
"Well, we have some rock here, some newer some older, there's some older country, Ninety-Nine got me interested in that when I was a kid learning to play the guitar-"
"Guitar? You play guitar? Did I know that?"
"Probably not, I don't usually mention it..." he seemed a little embarrassed, and she couldn't imagine why.
"I don't even see a guitar around, do you have one?" She asked that as she was looking around the small room to see if there was a hiding place for a guitar.
He blew out a small puff of air, almost as a wry chuckle, as he walked over to his closet. He opened the door, reached back into a corner she couldn't see, and pulled out an old beat-up acoustic guitar.
Her eyes got wide as she looked at him. He gave her a small smile, but she thought she noticed a little bit of color rising in his cheeks.
"Well, I'm not going to ask you to play for me. Yet." Then she laughed quietly. "But maybe someday you wouldn't mind."
"We'll see. I'm really out of practice." He set the guitar back in the closet and shut the door.
"Okay, how about some of that old country? I haven't heard that kind of stuff in a while. That's what i listened to when I was a kid with my dad's record collection."
He said, "Okay, sounds good." He pulled out a CD and placed it in the player. Some very familiar sounds reached Wren, and she was lost for a second in the past. Hunter could tell she was far away, so he just left her alone and started moving the pillows and blankets around on his bed.
He turned back, and she finally came back to the present, so he motioned towards the bed, with the cutest eyebrow raise.
She gave him a smile and said, "Okay, which side do you want to be on?"
"It doesn't matter to me." So she sat down but then scooted to the far side of the bed. He turned to shut the door. At the sound she looked up at him, and he said, "Is that okay? I can leave it open if you'd rather."
"No, that's fine. Come on," and at that she patted the bed next to her. She turned her back to him, as they had done on the couch. He scooted up behind her, extending his arm around her waist. He also reached down and brought one of the blankets up over their legs.
"Is that okay? You comfy?" He asked.
"Yeah, I'm great." She moved around just a little bit, trying to get the most comfortable position, but then settled. After she did, he moved his head closer to hers, putting his nose in her hair. She could hear him inhale and it brought a smile to her face. She patted his hand as it rested against her waist, then left her hand on top of his.
They laid there like that for quite a while, just listening to the music. She would hum a bit of a song now and then, and he smiled every time.
"Do you think we should set an alarm? Just in case we fall asleep? I'd hate to be in here when Omega came home." Wren sounded a bit worried.
"I'm pretty sure I'll wake up, even if we fall asleep, but I don't have a problem setting an alarm." He reached back to get his phone from the night stand and set the alarm for noon. He showed it to her and said, "Is that alright?"
She nodded and said, "Yep, great."
After putting his phone back on the stand, he put his arm around her waist again, pulling her just a bit closer.
They settled in again, letting the peaceful quiet lull them into a half-awake/half-asleep state.
Wren was enjoying the music, the comfortable bed, the warmth along her back and draped around her. And she felt a sense of calm, once the initial butterflies from being in Hunter's bed WITH Hunter subsided.
She looked at the clock on the nightstand on her side of the bed, and it showed they'd been there 45 minutes. She couldn't believe it had been that long. And there was disappointment at the thought that their time there was almost half over. She started thinking about what an opportunity this was. She was here, with him, in private, at ease, feeling quite comfortable. How long before she would get a chance like this again?
She decided she was going to do it. She wasn't sure what "it" was, but something. Something more than what she had done up to this point. She took a deep breath.
She wasn't sure if he was even awake at this point. His breathing was calm and steady, and it sounded like he could have been asleep, but she still wanted to see what would happen if...
She slowly began to turn over, towards him. His arm around her had loosened a bit, so she was able to turn without too much trouble. She ended up on her other side, facing him. Both of their heads were on the pillow, and his eyes were still closed. She thought he must have been asleep.
So she just stared at him for a while. Taking in everything, since she normally couldn't look at him that closely for that long. His hair had fallen across his forehead and was covering half of his eye. His face was relaxed. It wasn't unusual for him to have the worry crease in between his eyebrows, but it wasn't there at that moment. He looked younger than his age. The weight of his responsibilities that usually showed on his face was gone, and he looked peaceful.
She wanted to reach out and touch his cheek. In fact, she felt her hand twitch, almost as if she wasn't controlling it. But she stopped herself. She didn't want to wake him up if he was asleep.
"What are you doin'?" His gravelly voice startled her and she jumped a bit. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.
"Nothin!" She hurriedly said, looking down, then closing her eyes. If I don't see him, then he won't see me. The thinking of a toddler.
"I could feel you looking at me," he continued, the smile never leaving his face.
She felt her face get hot and she was sure she was blushing at that point. And their faces were so close, he would obviously see it.
"Sorry," she mumbled.
"Hey, don't be sorry. I didn't mind at all." He was quick to reassure her.
She looked up at him again. "You just looked so peaceful. It was nice to see you relaxed and...happy?"
He brought his hand up to her face and moved some hair away from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. Then he brought his hand down and lightly ran the back of his fingers along her cheek.
"Well, I'm glad I look happy, and you can tell. Because I am happy. Thanks to you." When he said that, he tapped her nose with his finger.
She smiled back at him. Then involuntarily, her eyes moved to his lips, then quickly back to his eyes. He noticed, and his eyes travelled to her lips, lingering a bit longer.
She could tell he wanted to kiss her. And she wanted to kiss him. If she could just make herself do it. But that was so hard, to take that step. Yes, she'd already done it once, but it was still so new.
She looked back to his lips and moved her head the tiniest bit towards him. She could hardly breathe, but she was able to whisper, "Would you want to kiss me?"
Without hesitation he said, "Absolutely."
He moved the rest of the short distance between them, his lips touching hers. He didn't push, let her take it at her own speed. After a few seconds, she pressed a little harder, bringing her hand up to his cheek. She thought she heard the smallest groan from him, then he deepened the kiss. He still didn't open his mouth though. He knew better than that. When they needed to breathe, they parted but stayed close enough that their foreheads were touching.
She smiled without looking at him. "That's a nice smile," he whispered.
"Well, that was a nice kiss. I know I've said it before, but you're a really good kisser." She played with some of his hair, not wanting to look into his eyes when she said that. She was still a little embarrassed to be doing this. It was so...intimate.
He chuckled and she felt it vibrate through his chest. "I could get used to these compliments. But I do have to point out, you don't have much to compare me to." He bumped his forehead against hers very lightly.
She laughed quietly, and said, "True, very true. But I think I would be able to tell if you were a bad kisser. And you definitely are not."
She kissed him again, quickly. And again. And again.
He was laughing quietly too at that point, and moved his arm around her back to pull her a little closer.
"Actually, I could get used to all of this," he said, before he kissed her again, with a little more force.
When they parted again, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder, hiding her face. He kissed her hair. She had started to feel a little nervous again, and she knew she should probably stop what they were doing. She looked up at him, quickly kissed him, then rolled back over with her back to him.
He didn't take offense, he knew she still had firm limits, and he had no intention of pushing those. She was in the driver's seat, and he would gladly take whatever she wanted to give him. But he wouldn't pressure her for more.
He put his arm back around her waist, tightening it and pulling her back towards him. And that's when she felt him, hard against her ass. She felt her whole body flush and get warm.
As if he noticed the change in her body, he whispered, "Sorry about that. It will go away in a little bit, but I can let go for now, until it does, if you're uncomfortable."
She shook her head and said, "No, that's okay. I'm fine." She rubbed his top leg letting him know she was okay with things as they were.
"Okay, let me know if you change your mind," he said as he kissed her hair again.
She certainly couldn't admit it to him yet, but she felt a sense of power at how his body reacted to her and what they were doing. She knew it was a totally biological response, and not something he could even control for the most part. Not in a situation like this anyway. But she still liked that feeling, that his body responded to her. HER. Wren. There was no one else here. No pictures of other women. It was her. All her.
She had a smile on her face as they were almost lulled back to sleep by the quiet songs coming from his stereo. They still had an hour to relax and enjoy each other before they should get up. And she was going to try to stay awake so she could enjoy every bit of it.
Taglist:
@transactivecybermemory, @the-hexfiles, @ladysw01, @griffedeloup, @eclec-tech
@523rdrebel, @lightwise, @votedprettybythecommittee, @totallyunidentified, @indigofyrebird
@frostycatblr-fandom-files, @delicioustacocollector, @soaringthroughthegalaxy, @ladysaturnsdust, @antisocial-mariposa
@youreababboon, @merkitty49, @noblelightfighter, @notgonnaedit, @chaicilatte
@feral-ferrule, @adamime, @returnofthepineapple
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At last, I had time to read this chapter and to reblog it ! This was really sweet, they're absolutely adorable ! But Oh, the end 👀 like I know I have a dirty mind, but I was like "oooooh that's interesting !" and I especially loved that Wren felt more confident feeling him like this 💚
Patience & Trust: Chapter 4
I Trust You, Completely
Author's Note: I thought this was the chapter where I would write the meeting of Wren and @substantial-exposure's OC, Tulip. But then the words got away from me, and it was becoming too long to get to that point. So that will be the next chapter. This was the set-up to that.
Summary: Set in a modern AU: Wren is a librarian who meets Omega, a twelve-year-old living with her five older brothers. Omega feels Wren and her oldest brother, Hunter, would be good for each other and tries to play matchmaker. Wren's anxiety and shyness make that more difficult than Omega hoped. Wren is based on me and my experiences with anxiety and how it affected my relationship with my husband. This sequel begins in the early days of their relationship. There are still struggles, because her anxiety hasn't magically disappeared. But because of Hunter's patience and Wren's trust, they're able to make it work.
Pairing: Modern AU Hunter x F!OC
Word Count: 4908
Warnings: Mild swearing, talk of anxiety, especially social anxiety and shyness, light kissing and mention of sexual arousal. Modern AU.
Inspiration: My modern AU was inspired by the amazing Modern Batch AU and Modern Fives AU stories by kaydear (Illyria_Lives) on AO3. Not to be overly dramatic, but they changed my life. I borrowed some of their background from those stories, with the author's permission.
Previous Chapter
Patience & Trust Masterlist (the sequel)
Hunter and the Librarian Masterlist (the original)
Dividers by animatedglittergraphics-n-more
Wren was surprised when she received a text Monday afternoon, and especially when she saw it was from Hunter.
H: Hey, Wren! I hope you're good. I wondered what you were doing Friday. I know it's kind of short notice, and you are probably scheduled to work, but I'm going to be off, because we're going to be waiting for a delayed shipment of materials. And I wondered if you would want to come over to our house to hang out.
He knew it was a long shot, but he wanted to try. After finding out that he would have the day off, he thought it would be nice for her to hang out with him at his house. Especially when it would be quieter, because most of his siblings would be at work or school. Wrecker had already said he was going fishing that day, since he didn't have to work. But Hunter would much rather have a quiet time at home with Wren than go fishing with his brother. No offense to Wrecker, of course. And Crosshair would probably be there, but sleeping.
Hunter didn't plan on anything intimate happening, he knew Wren wasn't ready for that. But he thought maybe some snuggling might be a possibility. It had been too long (it had been over a week!) And it would be nice to not have his siblings' eyes on them as they were snuggled up on the couch watching TV.
When Wren saw his text, she was a little surprised. She hadn't expected anything like that. And to take off work, just to hang out? That's not something she normally did. But these were not normal times. She had a boyfriend now (she still couldn't believe that), so she could do things a little differently if she wanted. She had plenty of vacation time she could take. Amanda was always pushing her to take time off. Oh...what the hell!
W: Hey, Hunter. As a matter of fact, I can take the day off. Amanda is always pushing me to take vacation time...I have a lot saved up. So this sounds like a good time to do that. Did you have anything in mind? I mean, should I bring something.
H: Nope, just your cute self. I don't really have plans, I thought maybe we could just hang and watch TV or a movie or something, without the prying eyes of my siblings. Crosshair is the only one who will be here until later in the afternoon. And he'll be sleeping for a big part of the day.
She was just going to ignore that "your cute self" bit, although her face did get hot just reading it, and she's sure if anyone saw her she looked like a tomato.
W: Yeah, sure. That sounds good! What time?
H: Would you want to come around mid-morning? Like 10:00 maybe?
W: Yeah, that would be great.
H: Cool! I'll probably talk to you before then. I just wanted to ask you in plenty of time for you to ask for the time off if you wanted.
W: Thanks, Hunter!
H: Of course, talk to you later!
W: Okay, bye.
Amanda walked by around that time and said, "Now that is an interesting look on your face. What's up? I can't even tell if it's good or bad," and she laughed.
"Well, I think it's good. I'm just surprised. That was Hunter, and he asked me if I would be able to take off work this Friday."
Amanda raised her eyebrows and said, "Why, what does he have in mind?"
"He said maybe we could just hang out at his house." She looked at his texts again. "He said hang out and watch TV or something but without the 'prying eyes' of his siblings." A small smile crossed her face.
"Ooooh, alone time?" Amanda had a teasing tone in her voice.
Wren rolled her eyes and said, "Shut up." But she couldn't help the smile that got a little bigger.
"I'm teasing. But it does sound promising, right?"
"I guess. Yeah. I need to ask Robin if I can take off though."
"Oh she's not going to care. Do it right now. I'm not going to let you put it off until it's so late she can't approve it. Do it." She pointed at Wren's computer.
"You are so bossy!" Wren laughed quietly, but logged into the system where they submit their leave requests. She filled out the request to take Friday off and clicked submit. "Happy?" She looked at Amanda.
"Yes! Very. Thank you!" She laughed quietly, patted Wren on the shoulder, and went back to the front desk.
Wren felt giddy at that point, excited that Hunter wanted her to be there Friday to hang out. She would get nervous closer to time, but for now she was just going to enjoy the fact that he still wanted to be with her. Not that she thought he would have changed his mind overnight, but the reassurance is welcome.
The rest of the week was pretty uneventful. Hunter texted a couple of times to say hi. Wren texted a couple of times for the same reason. They weren't long conversations, just touching base, letting the other person know they were thinking of them. It made the week so much better than the previous one when Wren missed him so much. And she had to assume he wasn't "quiet and broody" either.
On Thursday night, he texted:
H: Are we still on for tomorrow?
W: Yes, definitely!
H: Okay, great. Looking forward to it.
W: Me too.
She could feel it...she had the biggest, dopiest smile on her face. And part of that was because she realized...she wasn't nervous! This might be the first time she was going to be around him when she was not nervous ahead of time. She was actually looking forward to it. They were going to be doing something she was familiar with, just hanging out at home. And she loved watching TV with him, because they would cuddle. And as he said, his siblings wouldn't be there, watching.
Giddy. She was giddy.
Hunter woke up on Friday morning in a much better mood than he usually was that early. He was not a morning person. He went ahead and got up in time to see Omega off to school. Echo had taken care of breakfast for her, as he usually did. Hunter and Wrecker were usually leaving around the time she was getting ready to eat. But today he was able to just sit with her and drink his coffee and eat some toast.
He had told everyone that Wren was going to be coming over to hang out. He only got a little shit from his brothers when Omega was out of earshot.
"Oh, Hunter, playing hooky from work to hang out with your girlfriend?" That was from Wrecker.
"Wrecker, you know why I'm 'playing hooky' from work. We're waiting on the shipment of supplies." He gave his brother an unamused look.
"Yeah, I know. But it's awfully convenient that she was off today as well."
"I told you, I asked her if she could take off, after I knew we weren't going to be working." He was getting exasperated.
"Let it go, Hunter. He's just giving you shit," Echo spoke up.
"I know he is. I just don't want it to seem like I had some grand scheme. I just thought about it after we found out about the delayed shipment and wondered if she might be available."
Wrecker just laughed. "I'm just bustin' your balls! I'm glad you're going to get some alone time. Crosshair will be here, but he won't come out of his room, I'm sure."
Echo said, "I'll be gone most of the day. We're having some special events at the clinic. I'll probably be home around 4:00."
That had been the day before.
Omega was finishing up her breakfast, Tech was getting his coffee ready to go, Wrecker had already left, wanting to get an early start on the fish.
Hunter stood up as Omega did and held out his arms for a hug. "Have a good day, kid."
"Okay. Will Wren still be here when I get home?"
"I'm not sure, but I think there's a good chance of it."
"Good!" As she was getting ready to walk out the door to wait for the bus, she said, "Oh, Tulip's here?!"
She turned excitedly to Hunter. He looked surprised and walked closer to the door, looking out. He saw Crosshair's on-again-off-again girlfriend's red sports car in the driveway.
"I guess she is. I didn't realize that." He was quiet, considering how this might affect his plans for the day.
"So she will get to meet Wren! I wish I was going to be here for that!"
"Well, you know Crosshair and Tulip neither one are early risers, so they might still be in bed by the time you get home." He smiled at her, but he was a little concerned.
"Well, either way, it's going to be fun for them to meet."
"Okay, well, you'd better get out there before you miss the bus, kid." He kissed her on top of her head and opened the door for her. She walked down the stairs and turned around and waved before jogging out to the street. She saw the kid across the street coming out at the same time and waved at them. Hunter turned and went back inside, shutting the door behind him.
He was deep in thought at that point though. He didn't realize Tulip would be in the house today. They never knew when she might stay over with Crosshair. They were on their own schedule. Hunter liked Tulip, and he thought she was good for his brother. He just wasn't sure what their situation actually was. She was nice to Omega though and would take her out shopping or for ice cream now and then. And Omega thought a lot of her, so he appreciated how kind she was to the girl. Especially since she didn't have a lot of women in her life.
He walked into the kitchen. "Did you know Tulip was here?"
Echo said, "Yeah, I heard them come in last night. You're over in your corner in there, so you don't hear as much as me. I could hear them coming up the stairs. But they weren't loud. I just knew she was here. Is that a problem?"
"No, it shouldn't be. They're usually up there most of the day anyway, sleeping. It's just I didn't warn Wren that someone new would be here. I know how she is with meeting new people, so I didn't want to spring something on her. I'll tell her when she gets here."
"Good idea. Now, I need to get ready to go. Would you mind to clean up in here?"
Hunter nodded and said, "Sure, I've got it."
"Thanks, Hunter." Echo went upstairs to finish getting ready.
Hunter had a couple of hours before Wren would be there. He would clean up the kitchen, then hit the shower.
As he washed the few dishes they'd made, he thought about how he would handle Wren being there at the same time as Tulip. It wouldn't be a big deal, he was sure of it. He liked Tulip. He liked how she seemed to be able to put Crosshair in his place more than the rest of them. He really didn't know what their actual status was. There would be long stretches where they wouldn't see her around. But he realized that didn't mean they weren't seeing each other away from the house. Crosshair was very private.
Echo left about five minutes after he went upstairs. He said, "I'll see you later this afternoon, Hunter."
"Okay, have a good day."
"You too, buddy," and Echo winked when he said that. Hunter just rolled his eyes.
After the kitchen was cleaned up, he grabbed a change of clothes and went into the bathroom to shower. As he looked in the mirror, he noticed his eyes. There was something there that he was not used to seeing. Can your eyes look happy? Because he felt like his eyes looked happy. He really was happy.
By the time he got out of the bathroom, it was 9:30. He remembered that he needed to make his bed. He didn't always do that, but he definitely didn't want his bed to be messy when she was going to be there. Not that he thought she would see it, but just in case.
The thought of that gave him butterflies. He wasn't sure what the plan was for their time together, but he just wanted to make sure everything was neat.
After making his bed, he started picking up other things. The house looked okay, but there were some things sitting around that he put away. He took a few things up to Omega's room.
By the time he was finished with all that, he heard a car pull up outside. He looked out the window and saw Wren getting out of her car parked at the curb. His stomach did a little flip.
He waited until she'd reached the porch steps and then opened the door. He could tell he startled her a little bit, so he immediately said, "I'm sorry!"
"It's okay. I was lost in thought," she said as she smiled at him.
He stepped off to the side, holding the door open for her, so she could walk in.
As she was taking off her shoes, he asked her how she was.
"I'm good. Glad to be here." She stood up and after the slightest hesitation, she moved towards him. But she moved slowly enough that if he wasn't interested in a hug, he easily could have backed away or acted like he didn't know what she was doing. But he sure wasn't going to do that.
He held out his arms a little so she could go in for a hug. They stood there, hugging, for what felt like minutes. It was probably only thirty seconds. Her head was on his shoulder, and he rested his head on hers.
"I'm glad you're here too," he whispered. He kissed the top of her head as he pulled back. "I was looking to see what's on TV at this time of day. I'm usually not home on weekdays."
"Me either," she said with a smile.
"Well, there isn't a lot for us to choose from."
She said, "That's okay, we don't have to really watch anything. We can just hang out."
"Well, that's what I was wondering about. I have a stereo in my room." He pointed towards the back of the house. "I wondered if you would want to listen to some music instead. Back there."
Her eyes opened just a little wider, but she did a good job of controlling her expression. He was trying to read her face, to see if she was uncomfortable, but he didn't see anything to indicate that she was.
"Back there, in your room? Like, on the bed?" She was wanting to make sure she knew exactly what he meant.
"Yeah, but only if you want. No pressure! I just thought we could cuddle like we do on the couch, but in a more comfortable place... listening to music...instead of watching TV."
He had an almost hopeful look on his face that wasn't lost on her.
He was quick to add, "We would stay on top of the covers. I don't have an ulterior motive, I swear."
The corners of her mouth slowly lifted as she noticed his nervousness. He didn't get that way very often, that was her thing. So to see it, made her feel like he must really be nervous about this particular thing. She wanted to put him at ease as quickly as possible.
"Yeah, I'd like that. And don't worry, Hunter, I trust you. Completely." She reached out to take his hands in hers, and stood looking at him for a few more seconds.
He smiled at her, and felt a flutter in his chest. He's usually not a nervous guy, but there was something about the way she was looking at him, the complete trust he saw on her face, that caused a bit of apprehension in him.
It was as if she was placing her heart in his hands, fully. And he knew he wouldn't purposely break that trust or do anything to make her regret that, but what if he messed up. He wasn't a perfect guy. He still screwed up. A lot. It took so much effort and time to get through to her, to let her know how much he cared about her. it would be devastating to her if he broke that trust.
He imperceptibly shook his head, clearing out those ridiculous thoughts. She was here, with him, in his house, without his siblings' prying eyes. He didn't want to ruin that by worrying about messing up.
"Okay, good," he finally responded. He dropped one of her hands, but kept hold of the other as the walked towards his room. "Did you want a drink?"
"No, I'm okay, thanks." He felt her lean into him more, and the warmth he felt spread from his head to his toes.
He led her into the small room she was already familiar with from the day she needed quiet away from everyone. She noticed the mirror again and felt her cheeks get warm.
"Okay, I don't really know what kind of music you like..." he began.
"Well, what kind do you like. Or what kind do you have, and I'll tell you which I'd prefer." She stood behind him looking at his CD collection.
"Well, we have some rock here, some newer some older, there's some older country, Ninety-Nine got me interested in that when I was a kid learning to play the guitar-"
"Guitar? You play guitar? Did I know that?"
"Probably not, I don't usually mention it..." he seemed a little embarrassed, and she couldn't imagine why.
"I don't even see a guitar around, do you have one?" She asked that as she was looking around the small room to see if there was a hiding place for a guitar.
He blew out a small puff of air, almost as a wry chuckle, as he walked over to his closet. He opened the door, reached back into a corner she couldn't see, and pulled out an old beat-up acoustic guitar.
Her eyes got wide as she looked at him. He gave her a small smile, but she thought she noticed a little bit of color rising in his cheeks.
"Well, I'm not going to ask you to play for me. Yet." Then she laughed quietly. "But maybe someday you wouldn't mind."
"We'll see. I'm really out of practice." He set the guitar back in the closet and shut the door.
"Okay, how about some of that old country? I haven't heard that kind of stuff in a while. That's what i listened to when I was a kid with my dad's record collection."
He said, "Okay, sounds good." He pulled out a CD and placed it in the player. Some very familiar sounds reached Wren, and she was lost for a second in the past. Hunter could tell she was far away, so he just left her alone and started moving the pillows and blankets around on his bed.
He turned back, and she finally came back to the present, so he motioned towards the bed, with the cutest eyebrow raise.
She gave him a smile and said, "Okay, which side do you want to be on?"
"It doesn't matter to me." So she sat down but then scooted to the far side of the bed. He turned to shut the door. At the sound she looked up at him, and he said, "Is that okay? I can leave it open if you'd rather."
"No, that's fine. Come on," and at that she patted the bed next to her. She turned her back to him, as they had done on the couch. He scooted up behind her, extending his arm around her waist. He also reached down and brought one of the blankets up over their legs.
"Is that okay? You comfy?" He asked.
"Yeah, I'm great." She moved around just a little bit, trying to get the most comfortable position, but then settled. After she did, he moved his head closer to hers, putting his nose in her hair. She could hear him inhale and it brought a smile to her face. She patted his hand as it rested against her waist, then left her hand on top of his.
They laid there like that for quite a while, just listening to the music. She would hum a bit of a song now and then, and he smiled every time.
"Do you think we should set an alarm? Just in case we fall asleep? I'd hate to be in here when Omega came home." Wren sounded a bit worried.
"I'm pretty sure I'll wake up, even if we fall asleep, but I don't have a problem setting an alarm." He reached back to get his phone from the night stand and set the alarm for noon. He showed it to her and said, "Is that alright?"
She nodded and said, "Yep, great."
After putting his phone back on the stand, he put his arm around her waist again, pulling her just a bit closer.
They settled in again, letting the peaceful quiet lull them into a half-awake/half-asleep state.
Wren was enjoying the music, the comfortable bed, the warmth along her back and draped around her. And she felt a sense of calm, once the initial butterflies from being in Hunter's bed WITH Hunter subsided.
She looked at the clock on the nightstand on her side of the bed, and it showed they'd been there 45 minutes. She couldn't believe it had been that long. And there was disappointment at the thought that their time there was almost half over. She started thinking about what an opportunity this was. She was here, with him, in private, at ease, feeling quite comfortable. How long before she would get a chance like this again?
She decided she was going to do it. She wasn't sure what "it" was, but something. Something more than what she had done up to this point. She took a deep breath.
She wasn't sure if he was even awake at this point. His breathing was calm and steady, and it sounded like he could have been asleep, but she still wanted to see what would happen if...
She slowly began to turn over, towards him. His arm around her had loosened a bit, so she was able to turn without too much trouble. She ended up on her other side, facing him. Both of their heads were on the pillow, and his eyes were still closed. She thought he must have been asleep.
So she just stared at him for a while. Taking in everything, since she normally couldn't look at him that closely for that long. His hair had fallen across his forehead and was covering half of his eye. His face was relaxed. It wasn't unusual for him to have the worry crease in between his eyebrows, but it wasn't there at that moment. He looked younger than his age. The weight of his responsibilities that usually showed on his face was gone, and he looked peaceful.
She wanted to reach out and touch his cheek. In fact, she felt her hand twitch, almost as if she wasn't controlling it. But she stopped herself. She didn't want to wake him up if he was asleep.
"What are you doin'?" His gravelly voice startled her and she jumped a bit. He opened his eyes and smiled at her.
"Nothin!" She hurriedly said, looking down, then closing her eyes. If I don't see him, then he won't see me. The thinking of a toddler.
"I could feel you looking at me," he continued, the smile never leaving his face.
She felt her face get hot and she was sure she was blushing at that point. And their faces were so close, he would obviously see it.
"Sorry," she mumbled.
"Hey, don't be sorry. I didn't mind at all." He was quick to reassure her.
She looked up at him again. "You just looked so peaceful. It was nice to see you relaxed and...happy?"
He brought his hand up to her face and moved some hair away from her eyes, tucking it behind her ear. Then he brought his hand down and lightly ran the back of his fingers along her cheek.
"Well, I'm glad I look happy, and you can tell. Because I am happy. Thanks to you." When he said that, he tapped her nose with his finger.
She smiled back at him. Then involuntarily, her eyes moved to his lips, then quickly back to his eyes. He noticed, and his eyes travelled to her lips, lingering a bit longer.
She could tell he wanted to kiss her. And she wanted to kiss him. If she could just make herself do it. But that was so hard, to take that step. Yes, she'd already done it once, but it was still so new.
She looked back to his lips and moved her head the tiniest bit towards him. She could hardly breathe, but she was able to whisper, "Would you want to kiss me?"
Without hesitation he said, "Absolutely."
He moved the rest of the short distance between them, his lips touching hers. He didn't push, let her take it at her own speed. After a few seconds, she pressed a little harder, bringing her hand up to his cheek. She thought she heard the smallest groan from him, then he deepened the kiss. He still didn't open his mouth though. He knew better than that. When they needed to breathe, they parted but stayed close enough that their foreheads were touching.
She smiled without looking at him. "That's a nice smile," he whispered.
"Well, that was a nice kiss. I know I've said it before, but you're a really good kisser." She played with some of his hair, not wanting to look into his eyes when she said that. She was still a little embarrassed to be doing this. It was so...intimate.
He chuckled and she felt it vibrate through his chest. "I could get used to these compliments. But I do have to point out, you don't have much to compare me to." He bumped his forehead against hers very lightly.
She laughed quietly, and said, "True, very true. But I think I would be able to tell if you were a bad kisser. And you definitely are not."
She kissed him again, quickly. And again. And again.
He was laughing quietly too at that point, and moved his arm around her back to pull her a little closer.
"Actually, I could get used to all of this," he said, before he kissed her again, with a little more force.
When they parted again, she dropped her forehead to his shoulder, hiding her face. He kissed her hair. She had started to feel a little nervous again, and she knew she should probably stop what they were doing. She looked up at him, quickly kissed him, then rolled back over with her back to him.
He didn't take offense, he knew she still had firm limits, and he had no intention of pushing those. She was in the driver's seat, and he would gladly take whatever she wanted to give him. But he wouldn't pressure her for more.
He put his arm back around her waist, tightening it and pulling her back towards him. And that's when she felt him, hard against her ass. She felt her whole body flush and get warm.
As if he noticed the change in her body, he whispered, "Sorry about that. It will go away in a little bit, but I can let go for now, until it does, if you're uncomfortable."
She shook her head and said, "No, that's okay. I'm fine." She rubbed his top leg letting him know she was okay with things as they were.
"Okay, let me know if you change your mind," he said as he kissed her hair again.
She certainly couldn't admit it to him yet, but she felt a sense of power at how his body reacted to her and what they were doing. She knew it was a totally biological response, and not something he could even control for the most part. Not in a situation like this anyway. But she still liked that feeling, that his body responded to her. HER. Wren. There was no one else here. No pictures of other women. It was her. All her.
She had a smile on her face as they were almost lulled back to sleep by the quiet songs coming from his stereo. They still had an hour to relax and enjoy each other before they should get up. And she was going to try to stay awake so she could enjoy every bit of it.
Taglist:
@transactivecybermemory, @the-hexfiles, @ladysw01, @griffedeloup, @eclec-tech
@523rdrebel, @lightwise, @votedprettybythecommittee, @totallyunidentified, @indigofyrebird
@frostycatblr-fandom-files, @delicioustacocollector, @soaringthroughthegalaxy, @ladysaturnsdust, @antisocial-mariposa
@youreababboon, @merkitty49, @noblelightfighter, @notgonnaedit, @chaicilatte
@feral-ferrule, @adamime, @returnofthepineapple
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“I do. And you know what that means.”
“That she wants to feed me to a rancor?” That line made me laugh so much hahaha !! 😂
Oh I'm so happy to read another chapter of this fic, I missed it 💚💚💚
Liar Liar (Part 10/?)
Part 10 - Seeing Double // <<< Part 9
🫧 Pairings: Commander Fox X Female Reader
🫧Chapter Summary: When work is getting too much, you go to 79's to try blow off some steam. But, you find yourself living bitter memories and jealousy.
🫧Warnings: Angst, alcohol mention, light flirting, jealousy, arguing, awkward moments. Dancing, miscommunication, Drama drama dramaaaa (I’m convinced nobody reads these warnings)

The following week was exhausting.
Somehow—Force knows how—Thire and Hound had convinced you to stay.
It had taken hours of back-and-forth, of them wearing you down with reassurances and well-meaning arguments, but in the end, you let them win. Stone, however, remained blissfully unaware of the whole ordeal. Not for lack of trying, though. You’d bet a million credits that he had been pestering Thire and Hound at least a dozen times, demanding to know what was going on.
But, just as Fox had promised, he was too preoccupied with Coruscant’s safety to linger in the office. Not only was Rik Walder still at large, but riots and fires had been breaking out in the lower sectors of Coruscant so his work pile had doubled.
You saw very little of him, only ever catching traces of his presence in the form of an empty caf cup pile steadily accumulating on his desk. Yet somehow, even without seeing him, the weight of everything still lingered.
At least Pia had been keeping you distracted. She messaged every night, checking in, filling the empty space with something lighter. It helped. And with Fox nowhere in sight, the ache in your chest had started to dull.
Unfortunately, the ache in your head was another story.
The systems were a disaster. What you had initially assumed was a one-time mishap with reports and patrol logs had spiraled into an ongoing nightmare.
Errors crept in like clockwork, reports misfiled, schedules jumbled. No one could even work out how it was happening. Technicians were brought in, sifting through the logs for signs of hacking and slicing but nothing. Nada.
Everything was now even triple-checked before uploads, and yet, somehow, the mistakes kept slipping through. And Thorn -bless his soul- was barely holding it together.
He loomed over everyone’s desks like a vulture, giving reminders, breathing down necks. You liked Thorn as a Commander well enough, but if you heard “make sure it’s secure again” one more time, you might throw yourself out the window.
But at least now it was your lunch break. And you could get some peace and quiet. Almost.
“Plans for tonight?” You looked up from your tray in the cafeteria, spoon hovering mid-air, to see Hound and Stone standing in front of you.
“Sleep,” you muttered, eyeing the unrecognisable grey slop on your spoon. “Why?”
“We’re going to 79’s.” Stone rolled his eyes. “I need a break from all these kriffing error checks.”
Your stomach twisted. 79’s. “I don’t know…” You trailed off, letting the spoonful of slop fall back onto your tray with an unceremonious splat.
Hound shot you a knowing look, knowing full well why you didn’t want to go. But Stone, still in the dark, pressed on. “Come on,” he coaxed, grinning. “It’ll be fun. Thire’s going too, though let’s be honest, he’s only going to see your friend.” He waggled his brows.
Your ears perked up. “Pia’s working tonight?” Now that had your interest.
It had been over a week since you last saw her, and the last time you had, you were ugly crying into her arms while devouring an obscene amount of sweet treats. You needed a new memory that was less embarrassing.
You also wanted to know if the two of them ended up on a date, too.
Hound gave you a small nudge of encouragement. “What do ya say? You need a break. Just a few drinks, some bad music, and—” he smirked, “—watching Thire completely lose his cool over Pia.”
You exhaled through your nose, arms crossed. “I’ll think about it.”
“You don’t have to drink,” he added quickly. “Or stay long. But you do need to get out of this place before Thorn gives himself an aneurysm.”
Stone grinned. “You’re coming. I can see it in your face.”
You rolled your eyes, but the thought of a change of scenery and even of normalcy, even for a night was becoming harder to resist. You didn’t want to keep avoiding places just because he had been there. You weren’t about to let Fox ruin 79’s for you.
“Fine,” you muttered, “I’ll go.”
Stone clapped his hands together. “Good. Now you’re making smart choices.”
Hound shot you another look, quieter this time almost as if he was checking in, making sure you were really okay with this. You gave him a small nod. You’d be fine. One night wouldn’t hurt.
Right?
“Oh, and since you’re here—" You barely had time to react before Stone pulled a handful of data pucks from his belt, holding them out like an afterthought. "Can you drop these off with Officer Sinja? The new one?"
Before you could protest, he unceremoniously dumped them onto your tray—right on top of the unappetising slop—then bolted, Hound trailing behind him with a barely concealed grin.
Unbelievable.
Then again, running an errand was still preferable to forcing down whatever questionable meal the kitchen had concocted today. With a resigned sigh, you picked up the data pucks, abandoning your tray altogether.
At least it gave you something to do. Something that didn’t involve system errors, Thorn breathing down your neck, or—
No. You weren’t going to think about him .
Tucking the pucks securely into your belt pouch, you made your way through the corridors, weaving past troopers and officers alike. The station was as busy as ever, filled with the usual hum of voices, boots against durasteel, and the occasional curse from a frustrated officer and new prisoners being escorted to the cells in the lower levels.
It was all fine. Normal.
Until you passed that same vent.
It was shut . But you could have sworn that just for a second, you had seen it shift. Like it had just barely snapped back into place after being moved.
You swallowed, glancing around. The corridor was empty now. Too empty.
You're imagining things. You had to be. Between the stress, the lack of sleep, and the mess of emotions still tangled inside you, it was no surprise your mind was playing tricks. If anything was in the vents after all, it would have been set off in the security alerts.
With a tense inhale, you forced yourself to keep walking, quickening your pace. Maybe getting out tonight really was a good idea.
It isn’t long until you realised you had another problem on your hands that wasn’t the data pucks. The problem was that you had no idea who Officer Sinja actually was.
With a frown, you realised you’d left your datapad in the office, and the idea of trekking all the way back for it just to turn around again made you groan internally. But if your memory served you correctly, Sinja might’ve been that young officer you’d spoken to in the hangar once—back when you were looking for Whisky.
That was as good a place as any to start.
You reached the lift, hitting the button and waiting as the numbers flickered down. The doors slid open, and you stepped inside, selecting your floor. The red lights above blinked with each passing level, and you exhaled.
Then you noticed one light turn green. Someone else was about to join you.
You shuffled toward the side, hoping— praying —it wasn’t a horde of astromechs again. The last time that happened, you’d been wedged into the corner while seven droids piled in, then spent four hours trapped when the lift broke down.
With a small wince at the memory, you kept your gaze down as the doors opened, waiting for whoever was about to step in.
As the door opened, your gaze inadvertently travelled along the floor when you spoke a pair of white boots. And then as your gaze moved up, a deep red stripe along the knee plates.
Instantly, your head snapped up and your eyes lock onto the visor that was probably the last one you wanted to.
Your body stiffened, fingers curling at your sides. He froze, too, hovering at the threshold like he’d just walked into a battlefield unarmed. For a second, neither of you moved.
Then he shifted back a step. “I’ll get the next one.”
His voice was gruff, controlled. But he wasn’t looking at you. His helmet was tilted just slightly toward the floor, like if he didn’t see you, this wouldn’t be happening.
You weren’t sure why you did it. Your body moved before your mind could catch up, and suddenly, your hand shot out, stopping the door from sealing. “N-no, it’s okay,” you said, voice quieter than intended. “There’s enough room.”
Fox hesitated. You swore you felt the weight of his stare even though you couldn’t see his eyes. He glanced between your hand and your face, as if trying to decode something—why you’d stopped him, why you would let him in.
Stiffly, he nodded and stepped inside.
The air in the lift grew heavy the second the doors slid shut.
He reached forward to press his floor button, and you clasped your hands behind your back, hoping he couldn’t see the way your fingers trembled.
The silence that settled between you was thick, stretched taut like a wire about to snap.
The lift hummed. A steady, low vibration beneath your feet.
Then, after what felt like an eternity, he spoke. “How’s your hand?”
The question startled you. You blinked, glancing at your palm—the one you’d burned on scalding caf last week.
“Fine,” you managed, though it came out too high-pitched, too breathy. You cleared your throat. “Uh, the medic put some kind of gel—or spray—on it. I don’t know. But yeah, it’s fine.”
Fox shifted on his feet, rocking slightly on his heels. “Good,” he murmured. “That’s good.”
You nodded, unsure what else to say.
The tension wasn’t budging. It was thick, suffocating, like the walls were about to close in like a trash compactor.
You sucked in a slow breath, then blurted out, “How’s, uh… life?”
Really? That was the best you could come up with?
Fox exhaled, the sound somewhere between amusement and exhaustion. “Same old, same old.”
Except it wasn’t. You heard it in his voice—the weight of something unspoken.
Maybe small talk wasn’t the worst idea. Maybe if you could just talk to him, things would feel less… tangled. You risked a glance at him, but it only made your stomach tighten and heart sink.
“Any luck on that prisoner?”
This time, he did sigh, lifting a gloved hand to his helmet as if pinching the bridge of his nose beneath it. “No. Nothing yet.”
“Oh.” You shifted uncomfortably.
“Are you… worried?” He didn’t turn his head, but you caught the slight tilt of his helmet as he regarded you from the corner of his visor.
“Sure,” you admitted. “From his record, I don’t remember anything particularly pleasant. I just… hope you catch him.”
“Yeah,” Fox murmured. “Me too.”
Are we not there yet?
The silence stretched again.
“Haircut?”
This time you looked at him, raising a brow. “S-Sorry?”
“Your hair… looks different.”
Your hand moves to your hair as if it wasn’t you who had washed, brushed it and styled it this morning. “Uh, no.” You say almost sheepishly. “I’m just wearing it up today.”
“Oh, yeah. Obviously.” Fox swallows, looking away from you.
You inhaled slowly—then regretted it immediately.
He still smelled the same. That warm, familiar scent that clung to your memory, pulling you back to that night in the cab. To the way he’d drawn you close, arm slung over your shoulders, voice murmuring into your ear…
You swallowed hard.
“Any plans this evening?”
His voice snapped you back to the present, and you jolted. “Oh—uh. Yeah. Hound asked me to go to 79’s with him.”
Silence. A few seconds too long.
“He did?”
There was something odd in his tone. Strained.
You suddely realised how that might have sounded. “And Stone,” you clarified quickly. “They both invited me. Y-You could come too.”
Fox didn’t speak at first. Then, briskly, he nodded. “You deserve a break.” He settled.
Something about the way he said it made your chest tighten. You tried to smile, but it didn’t quite reach your eyes. “I guess. Though instead of actually taking a break, I’m running errands for Stone.”
Fox tilted his head—a familiar motion, one you now hated to admit looked adorable on him. “Why?”
You explained the data pucks, and even though you couldn’t see his face, you felt the eye-roll behind his visor. “Could he not do it himself?”
“Obviously not,” you muttered, sighing.
The lift still wasn’t there yet.
“Do you even know who Officer Sinja is?”
“Kind of.” You hesitated. “I think I met him in the hangar once.”
Fox let out a breath and nodded. “You did. That’s him.”
You resisted the urge to shift again. You remembered that conversation now. Sinja had been smooth-talking, arrogant in a way that could be charming or insufferable depending on the day. And you remembered something else, too:
Fox had been watching.
The lift finally dinged.
The doors hissed open, revealing your destination and Fox stepped aside giving you room to pass.
But for a moment, you didn’t move.
And you weren’t sure why.
The air felt different now. The weight of his presence behind you pressed against your skin, a silent question hovering in the air between you both.
Then, just as the door started to close, Fox stopped it with his foot.
His voice was quiet when he asked, “Is this where you want to be?”
The question wasn’t just about the floor. It wasn’t just about the lift.
It was about him .
Was this where you wanted to be? Standing on the edge of something unresolved, pretending it didn’t hurt?
Your breath hitched. Then, softly, you nodded.
“Yes.”
And you stepped out.
You walked ahead, not looking back but you felt his stare on you and you will yourself not to look back.
Although, you find yourself really wanting to.
⋅⋅───⊱༺ 🦊 ༻⊰───⋅⋅
Getting ready for 79’s took longer than it should have.
You stood in front of your closet, arms crossed, debating over what to wear like it actually mattered. It didn’t, really. It was just a night out; a distraction. But something in your gut told you to put in the effort.
Your fingers skimmed over the fabric hanging before you, pausing when they brushed against something familiar. Soft material, deep red.
The dress.
You pulled it from the rack, letting it drape over your hands, the weight of it heavier than it should’ve been. It was the one you’d worn that night. The night with him . The one that never really got to happen.
A sigh escaped you as you ran a hand through your hair. You should have let Pia keep it when you left it at hers. Stars, maybe you should’ve burned it. But… you hadn’t.
And you weren’t sure what that said about you.
“Whatever,” you muttered, shoving it back and reaching for something else.
A top you hadn’t worn in a while. A skirt that felt a little daring (in your eyes, at least). Heels that deserved a night out, even if they’d make you regret it in the morning.
It wasn’t for anyone in particular. Just for you . That’s what you told yourself, anyway.
79’s was alive with its usual chaotic energy by the time you arrived.
Music thumped through the walls, a steady bassline that vibrated under your feet. The scent of cheap alcohol and something fried lingered in the air, mingling with the sharp tang of sweat and polished plastoid. Conversations overlapped, voices rising and falling, troopers crowded around tables, shouting over drinks, some even dancing, playing hologames. or just simply blowing off steam after another long shift.
You moved through the bodies, sidestepping a trooper who nearly sloshed his drink on you, and made your way to the bar. Settling onto a stool, you scanned for a familiar face. It didn’t take long as Pia was in the thick of it, handling a rush of orders.
When your eyes met, she practically lit up, waving so energetically you thought she might knock over the bottle she was reaching for. Instead, she managed to steady it at the last second, shooting you a quick ‘one sec’ before turning back to pour a round of shots.
“A beauty, isn’t she?” You turned to see Thire settling into the stool beside you, his eyes fixed on Pia with such open admiration it was almost laughable.
You grinned. “Always has been.”
Thire exhaled, like he was trying to play it cool but failing spectacularly. “We went out last night.”
“Oh?” You leaned in, thoroughly enjoying his smug expression. “And?”
He smirked, slow and self-satisfied. “It went great .”
Before you could pry for details, Pia finally made her way over, all confidence as she purred, “Hey, hot stuff.”
Thire barely suppressed a grin, straightening. “Hey, you—”
“I was talking to her,” Pia cut in smoothly, glancing your way with a mischievous smirk.
You snorted into your drink, and Thire’s face immediately fell, mouth snapping shut.
Pia, delighted with herself, laughed before leaning over the bar and pressing a kiss to Thire’s cheek. Just like that, his mood rebounded, his smirk returning in full force.
“Hey, you,” he murmured, clearly savouring the moment.
You rolled your eyes. “You two are cute. I hate it.”
Pia winked as she reached for a glass. “You love it.
She slid a drink across the bar toward you with a flourish. “On the house.”
You frowned. “Pia—”
“Nope.” She folded her arms. “As long as I’m working here, you don’t owe me a single credit.”
You sighed, eyeing the drink, then her. “Fine. But I’m buying you food later.”
She considered this, then gave a slow nod. “I’ll allow it.”
Shaking your head, you turned your attention back to Thire. “Stone and Hound here yet?”
Thire rolled his eyes. “They’re outside. One of the new shinies from the 212th had one too many shots and thought he could go round-for-round with a Corrie.”
You snorted. “Let me guess, thought he could hold his liquor?”
Thire smirked. “Poor bastard didn’t even make it past the third shot.”
The three of you fell into easy conversation, drinks flowing. Pia and Thire were perfect for each other, bounced off each other and you had to try and suppress a jealous feeling in your stomach.
Eventually, Thire finished off his drink and stood with a stretch. “Gonna go check in on the lads.”
Before he could step away, Pia grabbed his hand, tugging him back just enough to steal a quick kiss. “Don’t start any fights.”
Thire grins down at her. “No promises.” She swatted his arm, laughing as he disappeared into the crowd.
Alone now, Pia wiped down the bar as the onslaught of clones dwindled before leaning forward against the counter. There was a look on her face, hesitant but knowing, and you could already guess where this was going.
“You can ask if you want,” you muttered, swirling the ice in your glass.
Pia sighed. “How’s the thing with you and Fox?”
You exhaled slowly, staring into your drink. “There is no ‘ thing’ to begin with. I just… feel weird whenever I’m near him.”
Pia arched a brow. “Weird how?”
You hesitated, then told her about the lift; the tension, the awkward small talk, the way Fox had hesitated before stepping inside and how you let him in in the first place. How, for a brief moment, you’d both just stood there when the doors opened, neither of you moving.
Pia, for once, was quiet. You narrowed your eyes. “What?”
She bit her lip, choosing her words carefully. “Don’t hate me because I know how much this upset you… but do you think it’s worth possibly exploring something with him? As Fox?”
You stared at Pia, almost disgusted at the thought. “He lied to me, Pia”
She sighed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I know, I know. And I’m not saying what he did was right, because it wasn’t. But—”
“Oh, there’s a but now?” You huffed, crossing your arms.
Pia gave you a look, the kind that said don’t be difficult , but she pressed on anyway. “We know he didn’t do it to mess with you. He didn’t do it to get you fired. Or humiliate you. Or as some kind of stupid prank.” She shook her head, watching you closely. “He did it all on his own. No one put him up to it.”
You scoffed, looking away and back down at your drink. “Right. And that makes it better ?”
“I just think…” Pia hesitated, then continued carefully, “Maybe he really liked you.”
The words twisted something in your chest, but you forced a bitter laugh. “Doubt it.”
Your mind went back to that night in the refresher—the way you had cornered him, raw and desperate for the truth, asking if any of it had meant something, if anything he said was true. But he had just stood there. Silent. No answer. No confirmation. Not even a single damn word to give you peace of mind.
Pia studied you, but she must have seen the storm in your expression because she softened. “You should talk to him.”
You tensed. “No.”
“Just hear him out.”
“No.”
She groaned, throwing her hands up. “Oh, for kriff’s sake, will you just —”
“What ? ” You snapped, voice sharp enough to cut through the noise of the bar. “Let you and Thire push me into talking to him? Try and set us up again like you’re some kind of miracle workers? Just because your love life is suddenly peachy doesn’t mean I should forgive someone who deceived me and embarrassed me!”
Pia’s expression flickered with hurt and frustration. Then, with a shake of her head, she muttered, “I need to serve someone on the other side of the bar,” and walked away.
The moment she was gone, guilt sank its teeth into you.
You knew she only meant well. She always did. But she didn’t know what it felt like to build a connection with someone, to feel that pull toward them, only to find out it had all been a lie .
Nobody did.
You huffed, rubbing your temples and slouching forward on the bar. Everything inside you felt messy and tangled.
You felt sorry for yourself, sure, but you felt even worse for Pia. Her usual spark, that infectious joy that lit up every corner of a room, was gone. She moved mechanically behind the bar now, polite but muted, handing drinks over with a smile that didn’t quite reach her eyes.
Your gaze drifted across the room, zeroing in on the empty stool near the far end of the bar. That stool. The one Fox had sat at the first night you met ‘Whisky’. You stared at it like it might conjure him if you focused hard enough—but it didn’t. It just sat there. Vacant. And the longer you stared at it, the more your gut twisted with confusion.
Would you ignore him if he were there now? Would you walk up and demand answers? Or would you crumble under the weight of everything you still felt, despite how badly you wanted to be over it? Over him?
Frustrated, you let your head fall into your hands with a groan.
“Can I refill your drink?”
The voice came from behind, a little too smooth to be accidental. You blinked, lifting your head and glancing over your shoulder.
A clone stood there—handsome, of course. They always were. But this one was clearly a shiny. Stark white armour, no markings, no scuffs. Practically fresh out the vat. He gave you a charming smile, the kind that probably worked on half the people in here already tonight.
You lifted your glass, giving it a tiny shake before setting it back down. “I’m okay. Thank you, though.”
He moved to your side, still keeping a respectful distance, like he’d been trained well in the art of not being pushy. “No worries. Just saw you sitting here. Looked like you needed a bit of a pick-me-up.”
You snorted softly. “That obvious, huh?”
“Well,” he said with a playful shrug, “you’ve got that look.”
You arched a brow. “What look?”
He grinned. “The ‘I need someone to come over and distract me from whatever is eating me alive’ look.”
You let out a laugh “You might be onto something.”
He leaned a little closer, his tone lighter. “So… how about a dance? Just one. You look like you could use a little movement therapy.”
You hesitated, glancing down at your half-finished drink, then back toward the empty stool across the bar. The music was loud, the bass thrumming through your chest, and the lingering buzz from your drink made everything just a little warmer, a little fuzzier around the edges.
Screw it. What’s one dance?
“Okay,” you said, pointing a mock-stern finger at him. “But no funny business.”
“Cross my heart,” he said, miming the gesture with a grin.
You let him lead you to the center of the dance floor, bodies pulsing and swaying around you in time with the beat. The music was thunderous, the lights casting bright flashes across the room, and for once, you let yourself lean into it.
The liquid courage you had been served by Pia made your moves smooth, fluid even. As for the Clone, he danced like he knew exactly where the line was and kept it friendly, playful, respectful.
It was exactly what you needed. A distraction. A little freedom.
The clone spun you smoothly with a boyish grin, and as the beat picked up again, he leaned closer and asked with a playful lift of his brow, “Another?”
You hesitated for a breath, eyeing his outstretched hand. He looked so eager, so harmless in his own cheeky little way—and truthfully, the night had already gone off the rails emotionally. What was a little more harmless chaos?
“Screw it,” you muttered and took his hand.
He beamed and pulled you right back into the rhythm, both of you swaying to the beat. This time, though, he dared a little more—his hand found your waist, featherlight at first, just testing. Waiting for the pushback.
You didn’t give it.
His confidence kicked in. The grip on your hip firmed just a little, and his other hand stayed loosely linked with yours as he guided you through the crowd. His voice was warm and easygoing as he leaned in. “You dance pretty well for someone who looked like she was about to cry into her drink.”
You shot him a glare. “Wow. You always this smooth?”
“Only when it’s working.” His grin widened.
“You trying to pick me up, shiny?”
“That depends. Is it working?”
You snorted, tilting your head with faux-seriousness. “A little. But I’m still undecided.”
“Good. I like a challenge.” He winked.
The conversation was easy and natural. His flirting was cheeky enough to be fun without being suffocating. You were actually enjoying yourself—laughing even—as you both leaned in close to hear each other over the pounding bass, your bodies swaying in tandem.
And then you saw him.
Over the clone’s shoulder, you caught a glimpse of red armor moving past the crowd. Fox.
Just off to the side of the bar, leaning against it with his usual practiced stillness, arm braced as he reached for a drink offered by one of the droids. Pia was nowhere near him—and of course she wasn’t. You knew she wouldn’t serve him.
But your body froze.
The clone you were with was still talking but his words came through like static.
Because then she appeared.
A woman. Striking. Stunning.
She stepped up beside Fox with all the familiarity of someone who knew him well. You watch as her hand lands lightly on his forearm, leaning in to speak.
Your stomach twisted.
That sick, lurching ache started in your chest and crawled down your spine. It was a feeling you knew all too well—the same hollow punch you’d felt when you caught your ex sneaking around behind your back.
Except this wasn’t your ex. And he wasn’t yours.
“I’m Whisky, by the way.”
The voice snapped you back like a slap. You blinked, suddenly aware of the clone’s hand still on your waist, his face inches from yours, smiling.
“What?”
He tilted his head, confused by your expression. “My name,” he said, still smiling. “Whisky, ma’am.”
Your world spun.
You simply stare at the clone. Your voice had vanished, like your brain refused to make sense of what he’d just said.
“Is that a joke?” you manage, the words flat and shaky.
He shifts, confused. “Ma’am?”
Completely unaware of the war now erupting inside your head, he blinks at your sudden switch in emotion as you pull away from his touch.
“Did I say something wrong—?”
“I have to go,” you rasp, voice barely holding together. “I’m sorry.”
You didn’t wait for his response. Couldn’t. You turned and pushed through the crowd, shoulder brushing shoulders, limbs catching on others mid-dance. The music was suddenly thunderous, pounding through your chest like your heartbeat was syncing with the bass. Lights flashed, voices shouted, laughter echoed—but it all blurred into a wash of noise that had now swallowed you whole.
You felt like the walls were closing in. Your breath came short. Too many bodies. Too many faces. Too much everything.
You finally broke through the crush at the exit and staggered into the cold night. A gust of chilled air slammed into your lungs, and you gasped like someone who had been drowning.
Your hands trembled as you leaned against the nearest post near the cab bay, chest heaving like you’d just run a marathon. But it wasn’t exertion and it wasn’t the alcohol.
It was the cruel, gut-punch realisation of how fate had twisted the knife.
What were the odds?
Falling for a man who lied and called himself Whisky —only to later dance with the real one . A clone who was bright, kind, flirtatious… and had done absolutely nothing wrong except exist.
You let out a bitter laugh that barely made it past your lips. What’s joke.
But then your mind cruelly drifted to him again. Fox.
The flash of red armour, the drink in hand. The woman beside him. Her fingers brushing his forearm.
Pia’s voice echoed in your head, maddening and far too well-timed. "Maybe he really liked you."
You let out a breathless, humourless huff. “Yeah. Joke’s on me.”
“You alright?”
You flinched, spinning so fast on your heel you nearly toppled over. Luckily you were caught by a hand on your shoulder that belonged to Hound.
He steadied you with ease, his brow furrowed in concern as he took in your sickly expression, watery eyes, and unsteady stance.
“Too much to drink, eh?”
You tried to speak. Tried to wave it off, make a joke, anything . But nothing came.
Then he saw it, your eyes glassy with unshed tears.
“Wait, hey,” he said, voice dropping in concern. “Are you alright?”
You broke.
The emotion hit you like a crashing wave as you stumbled forward and sobbed into your hands, chest heaving under the weight of it all. “I feel so stupid , Hound,” you choked, the tears falling now, unrelenting, hot against your cheeks. “I—I don’t know what I’m doing. I don’t know why I feel so… so…”
But the words failed you. Because how could you even begin to explain it? The betrayal, the confusion, the jealousy, the aching longing for something that might never have been real in the first place?
Hound didn’t say anything. He didn’t try to offer clumsy comfort or tell you that everything would be okay. Instead, he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around you
One strong arm crossed your back, the other settling gently at your shoulder as he pulled you into his chest without hesitation. You collapsed into him, clinging to the warmth and stability he offered like it might keep you from falling apart entirely. His hand moved slowly in comforting circles across your back
You didn’t know how long you stood there like that, locked in a silent embrace under the hazy streetlight glow outside 79’s. But eventually, the storm inside you dulled just enough for you to pull away, still sniffling as you swiped your cheeks with trembling fingers.
You exhaled, shaky and uneven, and looked up into the night sky in a vain attempt to keep any more tears from spilling. “Sorry, Hound.”
“Nothing to be sorry for,” he said simply, folding his arms across his chest. “I don’t like seeing you like this. None of us do.”
You tried to smile, but it didn’t quite make it past your lips. “I don’t think Fox would care.”
But Hound just shook his head slowly, lips pursing in quiet disagreement. “He definitely would.”
You let out a bitter, disbelieving scoff—but nausea coiled in your stomach at the memory of Fox at the bar. The look on his face. The way the woman touched his arm. That stupid, stupid beautiful woman.
“I’d like to believe that,” you said hollowly, “but if he told me? I wouldn’t believe him.”
Hound didn’t push. He only nodded solemnly and raised a hand to signal a cab. “Get some rest, this thing you’re going through will pass.”
When one pulled up, you stepped toward it, but not before snapping a little too sharply: “I’m not going through anything.”
The silence that followed stung.
You closed your eyes, hating how your voice had cracked, how petty it sounded—even to you. “I’m sorry,” you muttered, quieter this time. “I didn’t mean that.”
“I know,” Hound said gently.
The cab hissed open, and just as you stepped forward, he pulled out a handful of credits and handed them to the driver before you could protest. You gave him a small, wordless nod and climbed in.
As the cab pulled away, taking you from a rather terrible evening.
As Hound turned, ready to rejoin Thire and Stone, he stills as he came face to face with Fox.
The commander was standing rigid, eyes locked on the departing cab, his jaw tense and unreadable. A heavy silence settled between them before Fox stepped forward, his tone sharp and bitter.
“That looked cosy.”
Ah. There it was.
Jealousy.
Hound’s face remained calm, but his mouth tightened ever so slightly. “Probably looked the same way you and that civvie looked. You know, the woman at the bar. Same one you were with in the same spot you first talked to her.”
Fox’s face twisted in frustration, already shaking his head. “It wasn’t like that. She was just thanking me. I pulled her out of that apartment fire in Sector Eight the other night.”
Hound raised a brow. “I believe you. She didn’t.”
Fox’s fists clenched tighter as he gave the ground a frustrated kick, scuffing his boot against the duracrete with a low growl that sounded far more dramatic than he intended. “How the kriff am I making things worse when I’m not even with her?”
Hound leaned lazily against the railing beside him, arms folded, watching traffic streak past on the levels below. “I thought you said you talked to her today?”
Fox groaned, dragging a hand over his face. “I tried. I think I said something about her hair.”
There was a pause. “…Her hair ?” Hound’s lips twitched, and Fox didn’t have to look to know he was holding back laughter.
“I panicked, alright?” Fox muttered. “It looked nice and I forgot how to be a person. My brain turned into soup.”
Hound finally let out a low chuckle, patting him condescendingly on the shoulder. “Smooth. Real smooth.”
Fox glared at him but didn’t deny it.
“I just—” he exhaled hard. “Is there even a point anymore? She was dancing with some shiny tonight, probably moved on. And then there was you ,” he added with a bitter edge, side-eyeing Hound. “She had her arms all over you.”
Hound didn’t even flinch. He just slapped Fox on the back of the head.
“ Ow. ”
“She was crying,” Hound said flatly. “She is not into me, she was just upset. And like I told you, she saw you with that civvie at the bar and her whole face changed. She looked like someone punched her in the gut.”
Fox instantly panicked when he heard you was crying, worried that you had been hurt Fox blinked. “Wait… you think she was jealous ?”
“Yeah,” Hound said, nodding. “I do. And you know what that means.”
“That she wants to feed me to a rancor?” Fox guessed.
“That she still cares , idiot.”
Fox went quiet, staring down at the passing speeders below. He chewed the inside of his cheek, thoughts tripping over each other. She cares. She was jealous. She danced with someone else but still cried about me. Okay. That’s good. Terrible. Confusing. But good. Kinda.
“…She’s still pissed at me, though.”
“Oh, that’s a given,” Hound said, clapping him on the back again. “But maybe that’s not a bad thing. Means she still gives a care. And before you ask, no, I am not speaking to her on your behalf.”
Fox sighed, leaning on the railing beside him. “So what do I do?”
Hound raised a brow. “Figure out what you want to say. Then actually say it before you combust.”
Fox nodded slowly, eyes narrowing in determination. “Okay,” he muttered, “but just to be clear… I’m never mentioning her hair again.”

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There is so much happening in there ! 99, then Hunter discussing with Omega and discovering who she is ! 👌
Also I'm so happy that you got back to this fic, I thought about it and I devoured this chapter 💚💚💚
The Defender (ch.12)
Febuwhump 2025 | Day 12 | Prompt: Used as Practice
Read here on Ao3
<< Previous Chapter | Master Post | Next Chapter >>
Rated: G | Words: 2635
Character Ages
Omega (8)
The Batch (Chronological: 4.5 / Biological: 9)
A/N: hello…it’s been awhile 🫠 But I’ve missed this story! (And I’ve missed the Febuwhump deadline, but we won’t talk about that…) I am excited to jump back in…maybe incorporate some Summer of Bad Batch prompts when the time comes 😉
“Cross wouldn’t want ya to do this,” Wrecker says, breath still hitched and wobbling from crying.
Hunter hates that he hesitates, hates that he wants to use what Crosshair would want as an excuse not to go through with it. But Crosshair isn’t here to say what he would or wouldn’t want. No, Crosshair is in a medical bay somewhere on Kamino, maybe dying, and no one is giving them any information. When they went to medical and asked, they were sent away, ordered to stay in their barracks until their scheduled training or meals dictated otherwise. They’d gone back to their barracks to come up with another plan, another solution. Wrecker had begun crying again, the same awful sobs Hunter had walked in on when he returned from training to find Crosshair missing again.
That is when the idea had formulated in Hunter’s mind, so quickly and so clearly that Hunter knew it would work. It had to work. “I’m going back to medical,” he’d announced.
Tech had regarded him critically, pushed his goggles back up. “I do not believe you have the ability or authority to make them change their minds, Hunter.”
“I won’t be going back as CT-9901,” Hunter said with a grin. He reached up and raked his fingers through his hair, pushing the thick curls back demonstratively. “I’ll go back as a reg.”
Tech’s frown deepened and Wrecker had choked out, “You’re gonna cut your hair?”
“It’ll grow back,” Hunter said, trying to sound dismissive; however, the regret chased by shame snuck in just then as he let go of his hair, letting it fall back into place.
“Surely there is another option,” Tech argued.
“With a regulation cut, I look just like a reg,” Hunter said. “It’s the perfect disguise.”
“Yeah,” Wrecker agreed, sniffing and wiping his sleeve across his nose, “but that’s why you grew it out in the first place, isn’t it. It just seems sad to mess up all your hard work.”
It had been hard work, convincing authority figures around him to let him skip getting his haircut at his scheduled time. The Kaminoans strove for uniformity and suffered variation when necessary. The experimental clone units had been that necessity with Wrecker, Tech and Crosshair; however, they prided themselves that at least one of the units had met nearly all their specifications. Hunter leaned into the fact that his enhancement made getting his head sheared regularly caused him physical and emotional distress. In a rare display of empathy, Nala Se had permitted Hunter to let his hair grow out and be kept presentable with scissors instead of a razor. And at last, Hunter could stand apart and together with his brothers.
“What about the voice?” Tech asked. “Perhaps they can help us as they have before.”
“Yeah!” Wrecker agreed. “The voice’ll help us.”
“And what if they can’t? What if they don’t?” Hunter asked, crossing his arms, even as relief cooled the warmth of apprehension under his skin.
“Then you’ll get a haircut,” Tech said simply.
They gave the voice one hour to check in. They waited next to the comm unit, sitting as they’d done that night Crosshair was sent to Nala Se for his injuries. They waited quietly, the only sound Wrecker’s occasional hiccup of a sob. The comm waited quietly too. When the hour was up, Hunter stood and started for the door.
“Cross wouldn’t want ya to do this,” Wrecker says.
Hunter turns back with a forced grin. “He never liked this mop anyways. He’ll be glad to see it gone for a while. A little ‘welcome back to the barracks’ gift, huh?”
“He just says stuff to say stuff,” Wrecker tells him. “He wouldn’t want you to get rid of it because of him.”
“I’m doing it for us,” Hunter says. “Because we need to know if Crosshair is alright. We need to know where he is. And this is the best way we can do that.” Hunter walks out of the barracks.
**
Hunter hates how the electric razor feels against his scalp. The metallic, thrumming whine and vibration makes even the nerves in his teeth ache. But Hunter pushes discomfort aside, sets his jaw, grips the seat of the chair he sits in, and bears it. The worst part of it all, though – the most selfish part, he thinks with an awful twist in his thumping heart muscle – is the soft, whispering sound of his hair falling in large, unforgiving clumps to the floor. What if Nala Se decides to retract her decision to let Hunter grow out his hair once she sees he has it cut of his own volition? Hunter bites the inside of his cheek. It doesn’t matter. It doesn’t.
Hunter distracts himself with thoughts of Crosshair, lying somewhere on a medical cot just out of their reach. Maybe it’s just a simple migraine. Those can be excruciating, Hunter knows, but not life-threatening. However, the Kaminoans didn’t take clones away to medical for migraines. It had to be something worse than that, and Hunter doesn’t want to think about what worse is. Tech probably knows, probably has a theory.
Hunter startles when the clone cutting his hair puts a hand on his shoulder. “Are you alright?”
Hunter frowns, but resists the impulse to duck his head, keeping his back and shoulders straight. “Fine.”
The clone isn’t like the other older clones Hunter has seen around the city. He’s not just older, he’s old. Face creased with lines and wrinkles, body deformed with age. Hunter has seen the clone plenty of times in passing, but they have never spoken. Tech speculated once that the clone was the first clone ever created from the host Jango Fett, and since none of them had any better theories, it was the one they’d adopted.
“You seem worried about something,” the clone continues when Hunter doesn’t say anything else.
“I’m not,” Hunter lies.
The clone steps into his vision. Half the clone’s face is drooping and unresponsive to the grin that tugs up at the other side. It might be the kindest smile Hunter has ever seen…except for Wrecker’s, that is. “You’re one of the little enhanced boys, aren’t you?”
While being called “little” stings a bit, Hunter nods.
“And what do your brothers call you?” the clone asks.
“Hunter.”
The clone’s smile deepens. “That is a good name. I’m called Ninety Nine.” Hunter wonders if it is because he looks like he’s ninety-nine years old; however, the clone adds before Hunter can wonder for very long, “Because my CT number is nine nine zero zero.”
It takes a moment to register the number. “That’s the number before mine,” Hunter says.
Ninety Nine chuckles. “That’s something, isn’t it?”
“You’re an enhanced clone too?” Hunter asks.
“Oh, that was probably the idea,” Ninety Nine says, moving back to his place behind the chair, “it just didn’t work out.”
The electric clippers rev back to life, and the dreaded haircut continues.
“I’m sorry,” Hunter says.
“There’s nothing to be sorry for,” Ninety Nine says. “I might never be useful as a soldier, but I find my purpose in other ways.”
Purpose. Hunter rolls the word around in his mind, the syllables sturdy and striking. He’s heard the word before in training. A soldier’s purpose…the purpose of clones…this unit's purpose… But the way Ninety Nine says it is different. Like something desirable and worthy and discoverable.
“What is your purpose?” Hunter asks.
Ninety Nine does not hesitate a moment to tell him. “Taking care of all my brothers in any way I can.”
That’s my purpose.
Hunter hesitates on the next question he asks, desperately hoping he already knows the answer. “Am I your brother too?”
“Of course you are,” Ninety Nine replies like it is oh, so obvious.
Hunter didn’t know until now that he’d always wanted an older brother.
**
There is only one cadet in the sterile white waiting room when Hunter steps into it. The cadet watches Hunter for a moment, and Hunter watches him, surprised at how different he looks. He has light hair, but not like Crosshair’s. It’s spun with yellow warmth, like the rare day of sunshine that manages to slip between the weeks of storms. His hair is also longer than regulation, not as long as Hunter’s was before, and brushed back, showing off a silver pendant that rests in the middle of his forehead. He isn’t wearing a normal cadet’s uniform either.
By the way the cadet sits, shoulders slumped forward, familiar brown eyes dull and weary, Hunter thinks he has been in this room for a long time, which means he could have seen something. Hunter is mustering up the courage to ask when the cadet looks away.
Hunter swallows. “I’m looking for my brother.”
The cadet’s eyes flicker back to him. “I haven’t seen anyone,” he says cooly, but then adds, “I’m sorry.” His gaze drops to his lap, fingers wrung together like Wrecker does when he’s nervous.
“Who are you?” Hunter asks. “I’ve never seen a cadet dressed like you.”
The cadet sniffs, and it sounds like what Tech does when he’s about to reveal some sort of information that Hunter should have already known. “I’m not a cadet. I am a medical assistant. Please, I cannot talk to you. Nala Se would not like it.”
For the first time in his memories, Hunter’s heart leaps for joy at the mention of Nala Se. “You know Nala Se?”
The cadet glares at his lap and nods.
“Then,” Hunter starts, swallows, and starts again, “Then do you know CT-9904? Do you know where he is?”
The cadet’s head snaps up, eyes wide. He searches Hunter’s face for a long moment, like he’s trying to figure something out. And then, impossibly, he asks, “Hunter?”
Hunter takes a step back. How? How could this random, strange, not-cadet know? But then, he is with Nala Se…but Nala Se only ever uses their CT numbers. Does Nala Se even know their names? “No,” Hunter tells the cadet, and his voice shakes before he can bite back the fear and disappointment that bubbles up. His cover has been blown. All this to get nothing at all.
“You cut your hair,” the cadet says, and the way he says it is reminiscent of the voice coming through the comm unit in the supply closet, in their barracks. The kind way the voice had said, he’s going to be okay…
“You’re the voice,” Hunter says.
The cadet glances back at the door just behind him, then back at Hunter. He puts his hand on the chair next to him. “Do you want to wait with me? I’ll tell you everything I know.”
But Hunter's feet stay planted where he stands. “Is Crosshair alright?”
“I don’t know,” the voice admits. “Nala Se told me to wait for her here and that Crosshair needed surgery.”
“Why would he need surgery?” Hunter asks, “He just hit his head! He was getting better.”
The voice shifts in his chair. “I don’t know.”
“What do you know?” Hunter demands and then regrets it.
The voice’s lower lip trembles, and Hunter hates to think he’s made the voice cry again. “I know that Nala Se is doing everything she can. I do know that.” And even though the voice looks like he might cry, his voice is firm and sure. Maybe even a little angry.
While Hunter doesn’t apologize, he walks forward and climbs up into the offered chair. The not-cadet looks at him, eyes still shiny. “I’m sorry I don’t know more,” he says.
“You can’t know everything, I guess,” Hunter says, grinning a little – hoping it is enough to smooth the harsh words over. “You are just a medical assistant after all.”
The voice blinks, surprised, then offers a tiny twitch of a smile back.
“Do you…have a name?” Hunter asks, “Or should we just keep calling you the voice?”
The voice shifts in his chair. “Omega.”
“Don’t you have your own batch? Why watch us all the time?” Hunter asks next.
Omega frowns and looks away. “Kind of…Nala Se moved them out of the lab.”
“So why not watch them instead?” Then it hits him. “Wait…you mean us?”
Omega’s eyes go back to the door again then return to meet Hunter’s. “No one can know, Hunter, that I’ve interfered. If Nala Se finds out…” Omega sucks in a breath, cutting the sentence off. When Omega speaks again, his voice is barely a whisper, but Hunter hears him clearly, “I just can’t lose you all again.”
Guilt coils up in Hunter’s stomach. Forgetting one of their own seems impossible, and yet…how can Omega remember them, but none of them remember him? Did Nala Se do something to their memories? Had they been reconditioned? But why would Nala Se do that to them and not Omega? Maybe Omega’s enhancement is more useful in the labs than as a soldier?
“How–” Hunter begins, stops, scowls at the floor. It feels awful to say out loud that he doesn’t remember the cadet sitting next to him when he so clearly cares about and remembers him. He tries again, “Why would Nala Se separate us?”
“Well, I’m not exactly a normal clone,” Omega says.
“Neither are we,” Hunter shoots back.
Omega tips her head. “True…but I’m more different. I’m an unaltered female clone.”
Hunter gapes. “Wait…you’re a girl?”
He’s relieved when Omega smiles instead of looking offended that he’s thought she was a boy all this time. How could Hunter forget he has a sister of all things – what had the long necks done to them?
“It’s okay that you don’t remember me,” Omega tells him softly. “You were really little when you left the lab.”
It’s like she can read his mind. Maybe that’s her enhancement? Is that possible? Tech would know…
“But you remember us,” Hunter says.
“I’m an unaltered clone. I don’t have accelerated aging. I was older than you when you left the lab, even though we look the same age now. It’s strange. Nala Se had me study a module about it.” Omega shrugs. “But it’s still strange anyway.”
Hunter can think of a hundred more questions to ask, but the words that come out are, “I’m still sorry we don’t remember you.”
“It was for the best,” Omega tells him. “That’s what Nala Se says. But now I’ve ruined everything.”
Before Hunter can ask what she means, the door slides open. Omega and Hunter startle, Hunter jumping to his feet. Nala Se steps into the room, looking down at them with an all-too familiar reproachful gaze. “Omega, what is the meaning of this?”
Omega glares at Hunter. “This cadet sat next to me and said my uniform looked funny,” she tells Nala Se.
Hunter tries to think up something to say, an excuse to give, but Nala Se does not give him the chance.
“You should not be here. Return to your unit immediately,” the Kaminoan hisses at him.
“Yes, ma’am,” Hunter says. He keeps his eyes down, careful not to look back at Omega, and turns to walk out of the waiting room. He is halfway across the room when Omega speaks up.
“Is CT-9904 alright?” Omega asks Nala Se.
“His condition is stable. He will be monitored for the night and returned to his own unit. Come, we will finish my rounds.”
Hunter keeps his pace steady. Through the waiting room, out of medical, into the main halls. He wants to run as fast as his legs will carry him. His brothers have waited long enough. But drawing attention now might hurt Omega. He doesn’t know what Nala Se would do to her, but he won’t risk it. He has another sibling to protect now.
And protecting them is his purpose.
Up next...
Prompt: “I don’t trust anyone else.”
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Okay, this is adorable ! I really love this AU, it always makes me feel good to see them in our world 💚💚💚
The Batch Family: The Fourth Day of April
A peek into Echo's life on April 4th through the years.
Part of my AU "The Batch Family" [Collection Masterlist]
Word count: 3.6k | Batch ages: Multiple
Note: Time to explore a bit of Echo's life! Though he loves his brothers, he definitely has more of an independent side that grows as he does. I grinned like an idiot writing each one of these scenes. 💙
7 months
"Echo! What are you-- oh my gosh. Jaster! Come here! Look! Look at Echo! Look at you, big boy! Yes, you're such a big boy now! Yes, yes, yes. Jaster!"
Echo held on to the edge of the couch, one set of chubby fingers clinging to the fabric as he stood for the first time. His mommy jumped and squealed around him in delight, so of course he followed suit. His grin widened to reveal one budding tooth, front and center. He giggled and moved his feet to mimic her dance.
Unfortunately, the movement caused him to lose his balance. His fingers couldn't hold on as he wobbled backward and landed on a diapered bum.
"What is it? What's going on?"
His daddy's voice came around the corner while his mommy wailed.
"Ohhh you missed it! Are you okay, baby? You okay?"
She rushed over to him, rubbing his back and putting her face next to his. Echo wasn't going to cry, but his mommy didn't have her smile anymore. He stopped smiling, too.
"Arla, don't hover," his daddy said.
"I'm not,” she said, but still moved away. Just a little bit. She dropped her hand from his back.
Echo looked from his mommy to his daddy, both watching him intently. He wanted to see them smile again. He reached his hand out toward the couch.
"That's it, little buddy," said Daddy.
"Yes! Yes!" said Mommy.
Echo scooted himself closer until his hand grasped at the couch. He was slow, but he finally pushed himself up again.
"You did it, Echo!"
"Look at you! My big boy! Ahead of your milestones!"
"Arla..."
"What? He is!"
Echo was delighted they were smiling again. He laughed and flung his head on the couch, giggling while his mommy and daddy tickled and cooed and rubbed at his back.
Eventually he fell back on his bottom again but he kept on smiling.
- - -
5 years old
"Okay, who remembers the plan?"
Echo joined his brothers on the front stoop and looked back at Mom. Tech and Hunter raised their hands eagerly so he did, too.
"Hunter. What's the first step?"
"We wipe our feet!" He demonstrated the action, quickly rubbing his shoes on the doormat. The others crowded around him to do the same, elbowing and knocking against each other's backpacks in a frantic, whining mess. But Echo stepped back. He knew that was not the first step.
"Nuh-uh-uh," Mom patiently chastised them. "You're forgetting the most important part. Echo?"
"We have to line up!" he said, beaming when Mom nodded in affirmation.
The pushing and shoving from the others continued as they fought for their place in line.
"I got here first!"
"No I did!"
"Move!"
"Mom, he stepped on foot!"
Echo looked between them and Mom, waiting for something to be done, but she only folded her arms and watched them tussle. He folded his arms, too. Or rather, he wrapped his full arm around his middle and rested his stubby arm on top.
Eventually the chaos settled down as Hunter stood his ground on the mat and the others fell back behind him. Mom stepped in and put a gentle hand on Echo's shoulder and guided him forward, right behind Hunter.
"Hey, no cut-sies!" Wrecker began to whine but Mom silenced him with a look.
"There's no such thing as cut-sies with your brothers," she said evenly. "It doesn't matter who's first. This is all your home, you will all get inside no matter the order."
Echo nodded while the others didn't seem to be listening. Wrecker was still bumping into Tech playfully while Crosshair seemed to be eating a booger. Hunter wiped his shoes again.
"And now we wipe our feet!"
"That's right," Mom agreed. "One-by-one, wipe your shoes on the mat and go inside. And then what happens. Wrecker?"
Wrecker stopped messing with Tech and looked sheepishly back at Mom. "Okay, I'll stop."
"What's happens when you go inside?" she repeated.
Wrecker, never one to keep still, shuffled around in a circle. "We... we... we have to... um..."
"Shoes," Tech whispered next to him.
"We... we... we put our shoes... we put our shoes away...." He spun in a circle again.
"Away where? Tech?"
Tech pulled himself up to his full height, like an army man standing at attention. "In our cubbies."
"That's right. The cubbies you decorated yesterday. And what else goes in there, Crosshair?"
Echo peered down the line at his quiet brother, who seemed to just be chewing on his whole finger now.
"Pak-pak," he slurred around his finger.
"Backpacks, yes. Okay." Mom clapped her hands together. "Are we ready?"
Everyone shouted yes, though they weren't quite in sync.
"Okay..." Mom leaned over Hunter to unlock the door. "Go!"
Hunter wiped his feet and marched into the house. Echo followed just behind. He found his cubby tucked in the new bench Mom had gotten, between Hunter's and Tech's. He sat on the part of the bench right over his cubby so he could take off his shoes. Crosshair was the only other one who did it that way; the rest of his brothers sat on the floor and tugged them off.
Once Echo had gotten his shoes off, he crouched down and pulled out his cubby. Mom had written each of their names in Sharpie, but they'd been able to add whatever decorations they wanted to the clear plastic bins. He had chosen the spaceship stickers for his and had stuck them in a neat line right across the top. And even though it had been sticky and gross, he had painted his one hand blue and left a handprint just to the side of his name.
"I did it! I finished first!" Hunter jumped up and down.
"It's not a contest..." Mom sighed while rubbing his hair. "But good job."
Echo shimmied off his backpack and plopped it into the bin next to his shoes. He pushed it back under the bench and skipped to stand next to Hunter.
"I'm done, too!"
The others joined shortly and Mom pulled out a book of stickers from her purse.
"Well done, boys! As promised, you each get a new sticker for following the plan today. And if you can follow the plan every day for the rest of this week, you'll get another sticker."
There was some more scuffle as they crowded around and picked out their new stickers, and then hurried over to find the perfect spot to stick them on their cubbies. Echo, though, held on to his.
"I like mine just the way it is," he said.
Mom pulled him into her side and gave him a kiss on top of his head. "And I like you just the way you are, my darling. Never stop being a good boy, okay?"
Echo nodded and nestled into her side as they watched his silly brothers.
- - -
Ten years old
"Alright, who's next?"
Coach Gregor helped Tech as he dismounted from the rope and turned around for the next kid in his class to try the climb. His smile faltered upon seeing only two left, and the discomfort did not escape Echo's notice.
"Uh, Riyo, your turn," said Coach as he held out his hand for her.
The girl rushed over in excitement and Echo hung his head in embarrassment. The rest of the P.E. class, who had all had their turns at the long-awaited rope climb, were now milling about on the other side of the gym. His brothers were playing some sort of freeze-tag game. He knew he should've joined them long ago, but for some reason he stayed rooted to his spot in the line, watching every one of his classmates try their hands at it.
Riyo was able to pull herself up a few times, past where Coach's arms waited in case of a fall. She squealed in delight and then gently lowered herself back until he could help her down.
"Good job!" he praised and offered a high-five. Her ponytail bobbed as she skipped off to join the others.
Coach looked over at Echo with a sad smile.
"I'm sorry, kid," he chuckled nervously, running a hand behind his neck as he walked over. "I didn't realize how many arm-heavy activities I'd planned for the semester."
True, Echo had been sitting out of a few P.E. exercises lately. Dodgeball, crab soccer, their field trip to the tennis courts. But he hadn't cared as much about those. Coach had let him be his assistant referee and blow on his whistle, which was pretty cool. But the rope climb... that was a big deal. It was only allowed once a semester and everyone in school talked about it. He'd even practiced with his brothers at home, on a rope they'd tied to a low-hanging branch in the backyard. Well, he'd held on with his one arm and dangled for a bit, which Hunter had assured him still counted, so he basically had practiced just like them.
"But next week I was thinking we'd play kickball, weather's supposed to be nice..."
"I want to try, Coach," Echo interrupted him. He was scared to speak up but did it anyway. "I want to try to climb the rope."
Coach looked surprised and gave out another squeaky chuckle. He looked over at the rest of the class, all caught up in their own games, and then back at Echo, who was trying his very best to look brave. Coach then looked back at the rope for a moment and seemed to have an idea.
"Okay, bud. Let's do it."
Echo let out a breath. "Really?"
"Yeah. I got a plan for you. Come on up."
Echo gave a quick grin full of equal parts relief and excitement. Then he got serious and rushed over to where Coach was kneeling by the dangling rope.
"Okay, take hold of the rope up here and stick your foot out right here."
Echo did as instructed, grasping the rope just above his head and dangling his foot next to his teacher's bent leg. Coach wrapped the bottom part of the rope around his foot and then gently pushed his knee downward.
"See how the rope becomes taught with pressure? That'll help you stabilize. Once you kick off the ground, you'll put your other foot below it. Then you'll be able to push up on the rope until your arm bends. Here, I'll help you get started."
Coach stood behind him and held onto his sides. After a three-second count, Echo jumped up. Coach held him so he could maneuver his feet and push himself up, just like he'd been told.
"See, now you can reach up on the rope. Let your legs do the work for you."
Echo gulped as he looked upward. The rope jiggled whenever he moved; it didn't feel all that sturdy. But he trusted Coach and gave it a shot. With his breath held, he let go of the rope and quickly reached up to grasp it again.
"Yeah, just like that! You okay?"
Echo let out a breathy laugh. "Yes. I want to keep going."
"Okay. I'm going to let go of you a little bit. See if you can take your own weight."
Echo felt the hands at his sides relax. They still hovered nearby, but he definitely had to hold on tighter and use his own muscles now. The rope twisted and jiggled some more, but with Coach right behind him he didn't panic.
"Good. Good. Now, move your legs up. Keep the rope wrapped around your foot."
Echo sucked in another breath and went for it. He pulled up his legs, really feeling the strain in his arm as he held on tight. The rope came out from under his foot and then he got scared again.
"It's okay. Use your feet. Get it back."
Echo dangled from the rope as he fought to get it between his feet again. He finally did and was able to rest as the tension took some of the weight off.
"Now, push yourself up again."
He pushed. He was so much higher now. His stomach was facing Coach's head.
"Hey look! Echo's climbing the rope!" He heard one of his brother's voices calling out from behind him, then came the sound of pounding feet as everyone ran over to watch.
"Whoa, look at Echo!"
"He can do it!"
"Go Echo!"
"You got this!"
"That's my brother!"
With his classmates cheering him on, Echo swallowed another lump of nerves and looked upward with more determination this time. He was no longer trying to climb the rope; he was doing it.
"Push and reach," Coach reminded.
Echo moved his legs up, keeping the rope between his feet this time, pushed, and reached above. The crowd roared their approval.
"I'm doing it! I'm doing it!" he said with a grin as he looked down at everyone. His brothers gave him extra loud cheers.
He nodded and tried it again. Legs up, push, reach. Legs up, push, reach. He was now past Coach's hovering hands, further than a lot of his other classmates had made it. Hunter and a few others had gone all the way to the top, of course. He didn't think he could go that far. But he wanted to push just a liiitle bit more.
"You doing okay, bud?" Coach called up to him. "You'll need to come down the same way you went up, so don't wait until you're tired."
"I'm okay," he said quickly. "I can do one more."
"One more," Coach agreed.
Echo took a few breaths. Legs up... uh oh. The rope slipped away again. He whimpered a bit as his arm took all of his weight. Gasps and cries came from the audience, making him feel even more alarmed. He wiggled along with the rope, flailing his feet desperately.
"Don't panic." Thankfully Coach's voice reached him through the hollering of his class and the blood pounding in his ears. "Stay calm. You can do it. Just like you did before."
Right. Just like before. He could do it again. He flicked his feet a few times and managed to catch the rope just as his hand started to slip. He quickly wrapped it around his foot and heaved a sigh of relief when he could finally rest on it.
The crowd started cheering again and even Coach joined them with an atta boy! Echo decided he'd proven enough. He had done it. He had climbed the rope, with one arm, all by himself. It was time to get down now.
"Slowly push your legs down and lower your hand," Coach guided him down. Echo followed the directions a few times until he was back in reach of Coach's waiting arms. He let the man take hold of his sides once more and carry him back down, safe on the ground.
All of his classmates rushed toward him, but of course his brothers got there first. Wrecker covered him in a massive hug, lifting him up and jumping a little. Hunter and Tech and Crosshair all grasped various parts of him and jumped for joy as well.
Echo didn't stop smiling for the rest of the day.
- - -
Fifteen years old
"So... you like anyone?"
Rex bounced the basketball over and Echo scooped it up. He dribbled it a few times before twisting it in his hand and sending it toward the hoop. It bounced against the backboard and fell through the net.
"Not really," he confessed as his friend grabbed the ball and looked for a new spot to throw from. "You?"
"Amber's kinda cute. From home room."
Echo nodded and watched as Rex went for a layup.
"I think Riyo likes you," Rex grinned as he dribbled the ball back.
Echo's eyes went wide. "Really?"
"Yeah. She always says hi to you."
"She's just being nice."
"No, she likes you."
Echo shook his head as he took the ball and lined up another shot.
"What, you don't like her back? She's kinda cute."
"Are you going to say that about every girl?"
Rex shrugged. "Just the cute ones."
"You mean the kinda cute ones?"
Rex rolled his eyes and chased after the ball. Echo hadn't made the shot, it had bounced off the rim and out into the street. Rex caught it and jogged back over.
"Speaking of... does your sister still like Hunter?"
Rex sighed dramatically. "No, there's some new boy at her school she likes now. Thank god. That was getting old."
Echo laughed. "Yeah. Hunter was worried she'd start stalking him once she got to high school next year."
"Oh hey, I almost forgot!" Rex had been aiming but brought the ball back down as he remembered. "You know my friend Luke? He invited some friends to go camping with him and his dad once summer break starts. He said I could bring someone. A lot of his friends are older than me so I won't know a lot of people. You wanna come?"
Echo lit up at the idea. He'd never gone camping before. "Yeah! That'd be so cool. I'll have to ask my mom of course."
"Of course." Rex hesitated as he seemed to think of something else. "Um... I mean, I guess I could ask if it'd be okay for your brothers to come, too."
Echo felt his face heating up. He knew it would be rude for Rex to intrude on Luke’s trip with five extra friends, not just one. And besides, Echo knew Rex wasn't really friends with all of them. He mainly just hung out with him. And sometimes Hunter would join, but they never did anything just the two of them.
But Echo also knew that his brothers, Hunter especially, would freak out if he went on a trip like this without them. They had a few different things after-school, like his debate team and all of Tech's random hobbies. But they all played soccer. They spent their lunches together and their weekends and their summers. Everything they did, they did together. This would be the first time Echo did anything without them. And honestly? He kinda liked the idea.
"No, it's okay," he reassured Rex. "They don't have come."
"You sure?" Rex looked skeptical.
"Yeah. They'll be fine without me."
He wasn't really sure if that'd be true, but the more he thought about it, the more he wanted to do this. His own thing. With his own friend. Maybe Mom could help the others find their own things...
- - -
Twenty years old
"Hey, Hunter."
Echo gave an apologetic smile to his friends as he excused himself to take his brother's call.
"I want a dog."
Echo frowned while he looked for a quiet place outside the cafe to talk. "What?"
"A dog."
"No I heard that part. What do you mean you want a dog?"
"I mean I think it'd be really cool to have a dog."
Echo moved the phone away so he could sigh privately.
"And... why are you calling me about this?"
"What do you think? Should I do it?"
Echo scoffed. "I think you should do whatever you want and stop interrupting my day with pointless phone calls."
He cringed at his own scolding tone but it was hard not to get sassy with Hunter these days. His brother seemed to be getting needier the further into their adult lives they got.
"I just wanted your opinion, sheesh." He could tell Hunter was trying to play it off but was likely stung by his words.
"You could've texted," Echo tried to keep his tone more even.
"Yeah, well, I miss talking to you." Silence. Echo didn't have anything to say to that. "It's been a while."
This time Echo let his sigh be heard in the phone. "You could've gone on that cabin trip Mom put together in February. You all canceled last minute."
"Is she upset?" Hunter sounded ashamed.
Echo shrugged even though he knew Hunter couldn't see. "Hard to tell with her. You know how it is. Maybe you should call her... I'm sure she'd love to talk to you about dogs."
"I just, I feel bad..."
"Hunter. Call Mom. Get the dog. I'll... talk to you later. I promise."
They tied off the call and Echo returned inside. He felt annoyed by Hunter's call, which then made him feel guilty, which then made him annoyed again.
But then he caught sight of his table of friends... Rex at the head, listening so respectfully to what everyone had to say. Fives, with his arm comfortably slung over the back of Ahsoka's seat, their combined laughter heard across the cafe. Howzer, Fireball, and Nemec, newer friends that felt like they'd been in his life forever. And Riyo, who felt like someone he was just getting to know despite actually having been around for a while, with all the unexpectedly pleasant ways she could make him blush.
He let go of those conflicting feelings about his family, his shoulders lowering as the tension released. He wasn't sure what his future held; that was actually what they were all trying to figure out today. Jobs, internships, post-grad plans. The Peace Corps was the leading idea but they were researching a few others, seeing what they could collectively do to make the world a better place. And that was what made him smile now. The future, and his family, would take care of themselves. Right now, he and his friends would take care of everything else.

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Ooooh I didn't see that one ! It's very good, I especially loved the moment where Hunter and Echo were pushing Crosshair to do something better, that was funny 💚
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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This show, as TCW, made me want to draw again, and I got into cosplay more seriously, now I'm in a little association of clone cosplayers, as a cadet. TBB has it's flaws (let's be a little bit objective), but honestly, it's still my favorite show of all time 💚
I can’t believe it’s been a year since we said goodbye to the Bad Batch.
I want to use this post so everyone can reblog with either telling everyone what you loved about the show, your favourite characters via gifs, fan art and fan fic recs (credit the creators). Maybe even your own art and fics! Use this space to show off your cosplays, conventions you’ve been too, any merch. Literally anything Bad Batch related to keep Clone Force 99 alive! 🩵
No pressure tags: @eyecandyeoz @arctrooper69 @raevulsix @im-no-jedi @probadbatch @itsjml @talesfrommedinastation @nunanuggets @photogirl894 @griffedeloup @starrylothcat @returnofthepineapple @agenteliix @badbatcher @cwarssimp @forbiddenwaves @jetii @kryptoknight123 and whoever else wants to join in!
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I rarely got flowers in my life, but I think this is absolutely adorable 💚💚💚
Perfectly Plucked
🫧 Pairings: Tech X Female!Reader
🫧 word count: 3.2k

Plot: Omega mentions to Tech that you love flowers, and luckily enough for him, you love him also.
Warnings: Fluff, safe for work, female reader (she/her), idiots in love, first kiss, nervous Tech.
A/N: it’s been a while since I wrote something cute with my darling, Tech 🩵
“So, what’s the plan?”
Omega’s voice is filled with mischief as she sways from side to side in the co-pilot’s seat, her eyes locked on Tech.
Tech doesn’t immediately respond. His fingers tapped lightly over the datapad, scanning through the incoming reports. But when Omega’s voice cut through the steady hum of the Marauder, his eyes lifted briefly, landing on her as she swayed back and forth in the co-pilot's seat. “Meaning?”
Omega leans forward, her grin widening as she tilts her head toward the viewport, pointing with her chin toward the object of their conversation. “You know... her,” she says in a teasing tone, her eyes sparkling with barely contained excitement. “Are you going to ask her out?”
Tech’s expression faltered for a split second—his eyes widened, just enough to give him away—before he quickly averted his gaze, pretending to focus on the datapad once more. “I’m not sure what you mean.”
“Oh, you definitely do. We’ve alll seen how you look at her. It’s pretty obvious.” Omega replies, rolling her eyes dramatically before jumping to her feet.
“I do not ‘look’ at her.” Tech mutters, his tone defensive. “I simply observe. That is all.”
Omega arches an eyebrow, a knowing smirk tugging at her lips. “Sure, ‘observe.’”
She pauses, tapping her chin thoughtfully as she begins to pace the cockpit.. “You could always make her something. You know, something nice and romantic! A gadget of some kind.” Then she frowns. “Although that doesn’t scream romantic.”
Tech looks up with a sigh. “Of course they are not. They are tools for beneficial use. And I do not believe she requires anything like that.”
Omega halts, then leans against the control panel, “Okay, maybe not gadgets,” she says, “But flowers might work. People give flowers all the time as romantic gestures.”
Tech blinks, his mind racing as he processes the suggestion. “Flowers?” His voice carries a hint of skepticism. “Why would she need flowers? They have no functional use. I would know if she had an interest in... what was it she said, ‘botanical remedies’?” He gives a small, self-assured smirk, as though this topic was already discussed between the two of them. “She tends to consult me on those matters.”
Omega rolls her eyes once but grins, “It’s not about the practical use, Tech. It’s about the gesture. Besides, she loves flowers.”
Tech’s brow furrows in thought. He glances over at you through the viewport, seeing you sitting outside the Marauder and methodically cleaning and refurbishing your armour.
His mind memorises Omega’s point, you were interested in flowers or any fauna.
Omega watches his expression change, a gleam of victory in her eyes. “You should really pay attention when she watches those holo-romcoms. You’d see how much she likes the idea of flowers.”
Tech’s fingers tap thoughtfully against his datapad, but his attention has clearly shifted. “I suppose that is true,” he murmurs, as though the idea of flowers suddenly isn’t so far-fetched after all.
Omega, sensing her triumph, beams. “So you’ll do it then? You’ll get her flowers?”
“No,” Tech answers quickly, looking back at his datapad with feigned disinterest. “I do not appreciate your attempts to manipulate me into admitting feelings. Again.”
She chuckles, remembering the long conversation she had chewed his ear off about flying being a ‘feeling’.
“So you do admit it?”
Tech shoots her a pointed look, his tone sharpening just a little. “Omega.”
She raises her hands in mock surrender, backing away with exaggerated slowness. “Alright, alright,” she sings. “But I know she would appreciate it. You just have to admit it.”
Tech huffs, his lips pressing into a thin line. He watches you for a moment longer, his mind still running through the possibility, before he mutters under his breath, “I’ll consider it.”
Omega’s eyes twinkle, her work clearly done. “Perfect.”
The warm, refreshing breeze threaded through your hair as you leaned back against the crate, letting yourself savor the simple pleasure of open air. Sure, it wasn’t exactly a luxurious beach chair on a pristine coast like you had been craving, instead it was a beat-up crate on an overgrown forest floor. Though after days cooped up inside the Marauder, it felt like paradise. Even if the company inside was great. More than great, really.
Your mind wandered, inevitably drawn to a certain member of the squad. You caught yourself smiling, and immediately cringed, pressing a hand over your face.
"Why do feelings suck?" you muttered under your breath, shaking your head at yourself.
After a few minutes, you sat up and surveyed your armour with a satisfied smile. You had to admit, you were really good at keeping it looking brand new. Gathering the pieces in your arms, you headed back toward the ship, still riding the lazy warmth of the afternoon.
You were halfway up the gangplank, not paying attention, when you collided with something - someone - solid. You grunted, stumbling back as a few pieces of your armour clattered to the floor.
“Oh stars, sorry, Tech!” you blurted out as you realised what happened, rubbing your forehead where you'd bumped it against him.
"Not to worry, I was not looking where I was going either," he said smoothly, though there was a softness to his voice that made your cheeks warm. Stars, he really got to you.
You quickly crouch to gather up the pieces of your armour, and Tech mirrors your movements without hesitation. His gloves brush against your fingers as you both reach for the same piece, and for a heartbeat, neither of you move. The slightest spark shoots up your arm, and judging by the way Tech’s hand stiffens just a fraction, you pondered wishfully if he felt it too.
True to form however, neither of you say anything about it. You clear your throat and pull your hand back, allowing him to pick up the last piece.
Once everything’s collected, Tech takes it and puts your armour in the Marauder. You move to step around him, but Tech moves at the same time. You both shuffle right. Then both to the left. You stifle a laugh, glancing up at him helplessly as you try again — and again — failing miserably to find your way past.
“We look ridiculous,” you mutter, half-laughing as you impulsively reach out and grab his shoulders to steady him and yourself.
His body goes stiff beneath your touch, as though uncertain what to do, and his adorable wide eyes blink down at you behind his goggles.
“Hold still,” you say through a grin, guiding him gently aside. He lets you manoeuvre him into place without a word, though you hear him clear his throat a little.
You finally step through the doorway into the ship, peeking back at him. “What were you up to, anyway?” you ask casually, hands on your hips
Normally, Tech would answer any question with straightforward precision, but today... today he falters. “I, ah... was merely seeking... additional reference material. For research purposes.” His voice, usually so confident and clipped, wavers strangely. It’s so unlike him that you tilt your head in suspicion, narrowing your eyes in a playful squint.
“Oh?” you say slowly, intrigued. “What kind of research?”
His mouth opens — and then promptly shuts again. He adjusts his goggles unnecessarily, his hands fidgeting at the edges of his belt. Definitely suspicious.
Your curiosity only grows. “Well, if you need help,” you offer lightly, “I’d be happy to join you. I wouldn’t mind stretching my legs.” But then you realise, “Actually, I don’t want to leave Omega on her own-”
You barely finish speaking when a voice pipes up right behind you, startling you.
“I can look after myself, you know,” Omega says, clearly having been eavesdropping the entire time. She crosses her arms proudly. “I’m not a little kid anymore.”
You and Tech both turn toward her. “Not going to start the ship up and fly away without us, right?” You tease.
“Well I can’t promise that” Omega teases, looking between the two of you. “But I’ll do my best to resist.”
“Alright then,” You nod, allowing her to stay behind but then look to Tech to get his verdict.
“I suppose we will not be long.”
“Great!” Omega chimes, “You two can enjoy your date - uh, I mean…”
You stare at her, wide-eyed and mortified at her slip (if it even was) of her tongue.
Tech’s ears burn under his goggles, shooting her a look that you don’t see. He straightens his posture, clearing his throat.
Soon after giving Omega one last warning not to do anything disastrous on your outing, you fall into step beside Tech as he leads the way off the ship.
He doesn't say much at first and you don't push about why he was oddly quiet. You’re quite content for a moment to simply walk through the warm, open air and the forest ahead looks inviting. And being with Tech was such an added bonus.
“So, what exactly are we doing?” you ask after a short while, glancing over at him. “You never did tell me what kind of research this was.”
He pushes his goggles up his nose, fingers twitching on a small device in his hand. “It is a standard environmental survey,” he says quickly, “Nothing particularly noteworthy.”
You squint at him, reading him like a book. “You’re a terrible liar, Tech.”
“I am not lying,” he says, his tone stiff. “I am merely withholding certain specifics for operational efficiency.”
You bite back a smirk but let it go, following him deeper into the trees.
The forest itself hums with quiet life around you. The soft chirping from unseen creatures and the faint trickle of a nearby stream was tranquil. The trees tower overhead, their bark a deep reddish-brown, had wide canopies of green and gold leaves that flutter gently in the breeze.
If Pabu didn’t exist, you would actually consider having a home here.
After a few more minutes of walking, you watch as Tech slows and veers off the beaten path. He stopped at the edge of a rocky clearing and looked over a bed of wildflowers that had tiny blossoms in vivid colours that sway.
He activates the device in his grasp with a quiet beep and starts scanning the flowers.
You lean against a large boulder nearby, resting your chin on your arms as you watch him work. His brows are knitted in focused concentration, a tiny crease forming above his nose.
Honestly? Adorable.
“You’re really invested in this ‘environmental survey,’ huh?” you tease lightly, smiling.
He doesn’t glance up. Instead, he carefully kneels and inspects a cluster of bright yellow blooms. He selects one, pulls a small pair of pliers from his utility belt, and snips the stem.
“What’s that one?” you ask whilst he holds the flower delicately between his gloved fingers.
He looks up at you, and there's something almost shy in the way he offers the information. “It is a part of the aurelia family, a plant known for its versatile healing properties," he explains. "It is particularly effective in creating salves for minor abrasions, something you once mentioned a preference for, if I recall correctly.”
You blink, caught off-guard by the thoughtfulness that he remembered a conversation you had with him quite a while ago now.
Before you can find the right words, he steps closer and offers the flower to you. “I would like you to look after it,” he says simply, placing it carefully into your hand quite quickly and looking away.
You cradle the delicate bloom as if it were made of glass. “I’ll guard it with my life,” you say with a mock-seriousness, but your heart thumps a little faster all the same.
Tech merely nods, satisfied, and turns to continue walking. You follow behind, hand still clutching the bright flower like it was something far more precious than just a plant. Well, to you it was anyway. You loved flowers.
You walk in easy silence for a while, the forest thickening around you as the path narrows.
You're still cradling the yellow flower carefully in your hand when you notice Tech slow again, his scanner flickering softly. He kneels by another patch of blooms — this time a cluster of small, delicate flowers in a soft shade of your favorite colour. You watch as Tech examines them, but instead of scanning them like before, he hesitates. His hand hovers for a moment before he plucks one gently between his fingers, standing up and turning toward you.
Without a word, he steps close, the flower dangling loosely in his grasp. His expression is unreadable behind his goggles, but there’s something almost... tentative about his posture.
You tilt your head, curious. “What’s that one?” you ask, smiling.
Tech visibly stiffens. His mouth opens, but whatever explanation he had seems to falter halfway through forming. “It does not possess any notable medicinal properties,” he admits, adjusting his grip on the flower. “It is... actually scientifically insignificant.”
You blink at him, confused. “Then why did you want me to hold it?”
For a second you swear you see Tech’s composure crack. He shifts awkwardly, looking anywhere but at you. “I considered it might be useful for... cross-referencing petal structure... for research purposes,” he says, far too quickly and far too technically to the point it sounded weird.
You narrow your eyes in mock suspicion, catching on that there’s definitely more he’s not saying. “Uh-huh. Sure,” you say, voice light but you can’t ignore that your heart beats a little faster. Did he want to give it to you… because he wanted to?
He seems to be silently warring with himself. His fingers twitch like he’s about to hand you the flower after all but at the last second, he stops.
Without another word, Tech then turns and — in a move so uncharacteristically flustered it makes you bite back a laugh — he tosses the little flower into the underbrush as he walks away.
You stare after him, baffled and amused in equal measur. Definitely suspicious.
Tech continues gathering flowers as you both wander through the forest, stopping here and there to snip a stem or examine a petal with meticulous care. You gave up asking about each one after the third or fourth as it became obvious he was just handing them to you without much explanation.
Instead, you quietly let him do it, your arms gradually filling with an array of blossoms: soft yellows, rich blues, gentle lilacs, vivid reds. The bundle was chaotic and beautiful.
After a while, Tech finally straightens and looks around the clearing with a satisfied nod. “This will suffice,” he announces.
You stop beside him, brushing your fingertips over the petals lightly, inhaling the gentle, sweet scent. “You picked a really pretty bunch for your research,” you admit softly, smiling over the bouquet at him.
Tech adjusts his goggles with a slight nervous twitch to the motion. “Yes, well...” he starts, voice a little stiffer than usual. “In truth, I would prefer you to keep them.”
You blink, surprised, lowering the flowers slightly to peer at him more clearly. “Keep them?”
He shifts on his feet, clearly uncomfortable but forcing himself to explain. “Omega mentioned that you appreciated flowers. She also suggested that they were considered a... romantic gesture. More appropriate than, say, a customised multitool.” He clears his throat, rapidly gaining momentum as he continues rambling.
“You wanted to get me flowers?” you interrupt softly, the words slipping out before you can stop them.
Tech freezes mid-sentence of his tangent. His mouth opens and closes once — then he nods, sharply, as if resigning himself to it. “Yes. That was the intended outcome.”
Your cheeks burn so hot you swear Tech could probably feel it. You hug the messy bouquet a little tighter to your chest, heart thudding so hard it drowns out the hum of the forest around you.
Tech, seemingly unaware of just how much he’s affecting you, blunders on, still trying to justify himself as if he really needed to. “Initially, Omega suggested a handcrafted gadget. However, after observing flora within the holo-romcoms you frequently view, I concluded that a floral gift might have a statistically higher probability of being well-received, despite its lack of practicality—”
You’re barely listening anymore. You’re too busy staring at the ridiculous, wonderful bouquet in your hands, and the man who meticulously gathered every single stem just to give them to you.
“So... there was no research,” you say, your voice catching slightly.
Tech hesitates, then tilts his head slightly, almost sheepish. “No, not exactly,” he admits.
You bite your lip, trying and failing to hide the grin spreading across your face.
Thinking for a split second, you pull a small flower from the messy bundle — a delicate little thing with soft pink petals — and step toward him. Tech watches you with a sort of curious stillness, almost like he’s bracing for whatever strange human interaction he’s about to experience for the first time. A soft tenderness he yearned for you.
Carefully, you tuck the flower into the side of his goggle band, the bright bloom resting just above his ear. You step back to admire your handiwork, smiling. “There,” you say lightly, “now you look even cuter.”
Tech blinks, his hand automatically coming up to touch the flower like he’s not sure it’s really there. He tilts his head, studying you as a small, almost hesitant smile curling at the edges of his mouth.
“That would suggest that you found me ‘cute’ beforehand.” He exhales through a deep breath he didn’t know he was holding.
You meet his gaze, feeling daring. “Maybe,” you say coyly with a shrug, the word slipping out in a playful lilt.
Something shifts between you. Tech’s smile lingers, but it’s gentler now. His hand drops back to his side, but he takes a small step closer, close enough that you can smell the faint, clean scent of him — old leather, warm metal and tools, and something sharper underneath, something just him.
Your heart thuds painfully against your ribs.
Neither of you speaks. The forest seems to go quiet, the golden leaves above stilling like even the world around you doesn’t want to interrupt.
Slowly, carefully, Tech raises his hand, fingertips brushing against your arm like a silent question. You don’t pull away. If anything, you lean closer, your bouquet pressed tight to your chest like it’s the only thing keeping you anchored.
“Would it... be acceptable,” he says, voice almost a whisper now, “if I—?”
You don’t even let him finish. You nod, once, fast and certain.
The distance closes naturally. His gloved hand slides up, cupping your cheek with a reverence that makes your breath hitch. You tilt into him instinctively, and when he finally, finally leans in, his kiss is as careful and deliberate as everything else he does. A featherlight brush of lips at first, testing the waters, before deepening ever so slightly as he feels you melt against him.
It’s sweet, and a little clumsy, and absolutely perfect.
When you finally pull away, you’re both smiling genuine smiles that don’t need words to explain.
The flower you tucked behind his goggles is a little crooked now, and somehow, that just makes it even better.
🫧 Masterlist
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