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starrylothcat · 8 months

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The Bad Batch Ask You to Live With Them Headcanons

Pairing: Individual Bad Batch x GN Reader.

Warnings: Fluff, fluff, fluff. Smooching. Everyone is happy on Pabu AU. 🫶

A/N: This is just some silly fluff I wrote at work today. It was hot AF and I’m still sweating so I apologize for any errors, not really proofread.

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Scenario: You and The Bad Batch have been settled on Pabu for some time. Long-held feelings between you and your Batcher finally had the opportunity to blossom as you eased into a peaceful island routine. You are happy, your love for one another secure and strong.

You’ve discussed moving in together, but island life is calm and your lives are no longer in a rush. You haven’t made that leap in your relationship quite yet, but little did you know your Batcher had plans…

Hunter

You were sitting on the beach, the sun’s last rays catching the calm sea as stars twinkled into view.

Hunter’s arm was wrapped around you, holding you close against him, his head leaning on yours.

“You know that cottage we walk by every day, the one with the garden?” Hunter mumbled, gently tracing his fingers up and down your arm.

“Yeah…I’m surprised no one has moved in there yet. It’s in a perfect location.” You murmured, his fingers putting you in a relaxed trance.

“It is perfect.” He said, his smokey voice lulling you further into a relaxed, carefree state. “I can’t wait to see what you do with the garden.”

You shifted your head to look at him, confusion in your expression, his fingers stopping their caress.

“Omega wants to try to plant meilooruns.” He met your gaze. “And she’s already picking out decorations for her room.”

“Hunter…” you started. “What are you saying?”

Hunter pressed his forehead to yours. “It’s ours. If you want.” He ghosted his lips across your own. “All I have to do is give the word to Shep.”

Your breath hitched.

“Hunter, you mean, that cottage…? It’s really ours?”

He nodded, gently tracing his fingertips across your cheek, the fading sun reflecting in his honeyed eyes.

“I love you, and Omega does too. We’ve spent so much time on the run, never knowing what comes next. It’s time…to put it behind us. Settle down for good. And I want you to be part of that. But if you’re not-“

You grabbed the collar of his shirt and tugged him in for a passionate kiss, his arms immediately pulling you close to him.

“Hunter, yes.“ You beamed, breaking the kiss. “I love you, too.”

Hunter smiled, nuzzling his nose against yours, never having felt so content in his entire life, excited for this next chapter in your relationship.

Echo

You had just closed up your shop and were waiting for Echo. He promised to take you out tonight and told you he was planning something special.

He met you at your shop, kissing you deeply as his hello.

“Hello to you, too.” You giggled, slightly flustered at his kiss as he looped his arm with yours. “Where are you taking me tonight?”

“It’s still a surprise, mesh’la.” He winked, leading you down a a few quiet roads.

“There aren’t any restaurants up here.” You gave him a look, having no idea what he had planned.

Echo didn’t say anything, the evening lights flickering on throughout the island, casting warm glows onto the street.

A few more turns and Echo stopped. You stood in front of a cottage, a soft glow of light coming from the front windows.

“Echo-“ He just smiled, leading you up the cobbled path to the home.

“Echo, if your idea of a date is breaking and entering…” you teased, still confused as to what was going on.

Echo chuckled, opening the door to the cottage, surprising you that it was open.

“Just trust me, mesh’la.”

You stepped inside, gasping slightly. The cottage was empty, save for a blanket that was spread on the ground in what would be the living room.

A few candles were the only light source, highlighting the picnic that was spread across the blanket, and two empty glasses for the bottle of wine that sat in the middle of the spread.

You looked at him, still just as lost as before.

“It’s not much, but I figured we should celebrate the first night in our house.”

You opened and closed your mouth, processing his words.

“Our…house? Echo, you mean…?”

He wrapped his arms around you, hugging you tight.

“I love you and…I want to spend every moment together. Build a life…together. I saw this cottage was available and talked to Shep. It’s ours if we want it.”

Tears clouded your vision as you kissed him, overwhelmed by his words. You nodded excitedly against his lips, your heart ready to burst with joy.

“Me too, Echo. I love you. I want to build a life with you, too.”

He smiled, wiping the tears from your cheeks.

“Let’s crack open that wine then, shall we?”

Tech

Tech had been busy as of late, which is normal. He always had some project or idea that was occupying his mind.

But you knew something strange was going on when he kept hiding his datapad from you, or quickly pushing flimis under other piles of half-worked on gadgets whenever you walked into his room.

Finally, you decided to ask what he was working on, and what has been so intensely engrossing his mind the last few weeks.

“Can I ask what it is you’re working on?” You queried as you lounged on his bed in his room, watching him work.

He turned to you, and it looked like he was hesitating, and almost nervous to say something.

He let out a breath and fully faced you.

“We’ve been together romantically for some time now…” he started. “And we are happy, correct?”

You raised you eyebrow, nodding. “Yes, of course Tech. I love you.”

“As I you.” He stated. “So I have been pondering of what should come next, and I determined it was time to begin the next phase of our relationship, if you agree.”

Tech held out his datapad toward you as you stared at him, wondering what he was going on about.

“I began investigating homes we could share. There are plenty of available cottages throughout the island which I have researched thoroughly, though none are up to my standards.”

Tech adjusted his goggles as heat began to flush your cheeks.

“So, I took it upon myself to explore ways on how to build one myself.”

Your heart fluttered at his words as you sat up completely. “Tech, you want to build us a house?”

“Precisely. If you want to cohabitate with me, that is.” The last part of his statement came out quiet, as if he wasn’t sure of what your answer would be.

You peeked at the datapad, which had blueprint schematics of a cottage, all designed by him.

You looked back at him, not stopping the large smile on your face as Tech fidgeted, waiting for your response.

“Tech…” you said softly. “Yes, I’d love to live with you. I want it more than anything.”

You watched as his shoulders seemed to relax as you set down the datapad, closing the distance between the two of you.

Tech took your hand, his thumb gently tracing over yours.

“Of course, I’ll need your input on the final design, but I think you’ll approve of what I have so far.”

You smiled, leaning into him, his other arm holding you close. “As long as I’m with you, it’ll be perfect.”

Wrecker

Wrecker was giddy, practically dragging you down the road as he picked up his pace.

“Wrecker, where are we going?! Wait a sec, you’re walking too fast!” You could barely match his strides.

“You’re gonna love it, I promise! We are almost there!”

After another turn down a street, Wrecker finally stopped at the end of a row of small cottages.

“Here!” He exclaimed loudly, gesturing to you to follow him.

“Wrecker, what is this?!” You gasped, out of breath.

“It’s our new house! I know we talked about having our own place awhile ago and…here it is!” Wrecker excitedly tugged you in through the front door, your mind trying to play catch up to what he was saying.

You stepped inside, Wrecker eagerly pointing to different areas of the cottage.

“The windows in the kitchen are big, so we can have a great view while we cook together. That was the first thing I thought of…” Wrecker blushed as he turned, pointing to the door that led to a back patio.

“Oh, and look at the porch! Ya can grow all the herbs you’ve been wanting to! And wait until you see the view out the bedroom window-“

Wrecker stopped, noticing how quiet you were being.

You were gazing around the empty house, your mind spinning with surprise and happiness.

You were moved at Wrecker’s excitement and having a home to call your own, with him, not expecting this in the slightest.

Tears were sliding down your cheeks, and you didn’t even notice until Wrecker’s large hand was gently wiping them away.

“Mesh’la, I’m sorry, I got carried away. If ya aren’t ready I understand, or if ya don’t like this cottage we can-“ Wrecker sighed, thinking he ruined everything. “I’m sorry if it’s too much.”

You looked up at him, smiling.

“Wrecker, this is more than I could have ever wanted. I love this. I love you.” You placed your hand over his that was now cradling your face. “I want this.”

Wrecker smiled, relief washing over him.

“Now, tell me again about the kitchen?” You laughed, happy tears still running down your face as Wrecker kissed your cheeks, laughing with you in your new home.

Crosshair

You were laying with your head on his chest, listening to his heartbeat as you almost drifted off to sleep, Crosshair’s arm keeping you close to him.

You noticed he had been a little on edge today, restless and fidgeting more than usual.

You suggested a nap, which he agreed to.

He continued to be restless, though, not able to get comfortable as you laid on him.

“Want to go for a walk?” He grunted, shifting under you.

You lifted your head, blinking a few times. “Sure.” You smiled sleepily, sitting up from your laying position.

You often went on walks in the evening, a ritual you began not long after you became a couple.

You walked quietly under the full moon, the streets silent. Crosshair’s hand found yours, enjoying one another’s presence as you strolled through the winding avenues.

You let Crosshair lead the way, and you walked up into a cluster of cottages that you often passed by on your walks.

You’ve mentioned before how you like this part of Pabu, this subset of cottages getting the best view of the sunset.

Crosshair suddenly stopped, still grasping your hand.

“Is everything ok?” You asked, wondering why he stopped so suddenly.

He looked at you as he lifted your hand, turning your palm up, his silver hair almost indistinguishable from the moonlight casting down on the two of you.

“I was going to wait until tomorrow, but here.”

Crosshair placed a small key in the center of your palm, closing your fingers around it.

“Crosshair, what is this?” You asked softly, confused as to what he was doing.

“It’s ours.” He stated. “The one with the blue door.” You glanced behind him at the cottage with said blue door.

You focused back on him, trying to piece together what he was saying, his expression unreadable.

“What do you mean?” Your voice quivered, clutching the key.

“You know what I mean, doll.” His tone was soft. “It has the best view of the sunset. I made sure of that.”

You practically jumped at him, swinging your arms around him and crushing yourself into his chest, tears pricking at your eyes.

“Crosshair, I-“

He leaned his head on yours, his lips brushing against your forehead. You didn’t need to finish your sentence.

“It’s ours, now?” You whispered.

“As of yesterday.”

You looked up at him. “How did you know I’d say yes?”

Crosshair smirked, his lips close to yours. “You did, didn’t you?”

You smirked back, his lips capturing yours in the moonlight in front of your new home.

Taglist: @littlemissmanga @secondaryrealm @sinfulsalutations @anxiouspineapple99 @secretthegriffin @idontgetanysleep @starqueensthings @dystopicjumpsuit @wings-and-beskar @dreamie411 @aconstructofamind @coraex @multi-fan-dom-madness @freesia-writes @kashasenpai @wanderer-six @blueink-bluesoul @the-cantina @king-chaos-world @wolffegirlsunite @523rdrebel @dukeoftheblackstar @pb-jellybeans @sleepingsun501 @sunshinesdaydream @din-miller

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archangeldyke-all · 4 months

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I feel like if Vika had a baby she wouldn’t baby talk and have full on conversations with them. Like she’ll tell the baby how whiskey prices went up and how “fucking stupid” it is, or she’ll talk about some new kid at her job and how “the fucker” can’t do anything right LMAO

sugar u r the smartest person i know

men and minors dni

you and everyone who meets the baby talk to her like anybody talks to a baby, cooing and exaggerating and using an exaggerated baby voice.

your typical conversations with your kid for the first year of her life go something like 'awe, do you have a poopy? sweet baby made a big poopy.' or 'can you say: mama? mmmma mmmma?'

sevika, however, talks to your kid like she's an old friend.

you'll catch her feeding your daughter baby food, scooping up the goop that falls down onto her chin as she chats. "fuckin' silco was gettin' on my last nerve today. would you be pissed if we revoked his 'godfather' status? i know he spoils you, but i think we could find a suitable replacement, someone who doesn't have their head stuck up their ass. he thinks he runs the fuckin' place, he forgets we're co-owners. co. that means both. you're so lucky you don't have to work, you know that? you've got it made, kid, shit, you don't even have to feed yourself."

or, after you've had a long day at home with the little fucker, who's been screaming her head off and refusing to latch onto your tits to drink, you overhear sevika talking to her as she gently dances her around the living room. "you gotta give your mom a break, kid. i know you're probably sicka breast milk, but it's important you drink it, it's got all kindsa good shit in it that'll make you strong. like this, see?" she asks as she flexes the arm not holding your daughter. "keep drinkin' your milk and you'll be as strong as me in no time. well, you'll have to have a pretty strict workout regiment too, it's not all genetic. though, don't tell your mom, but i'm glad you've got my build-- she's a little wimp. you're strong like me. she hates it 'cause you came out so big 'n tore her pussy apart comin' out but i think it's great. you'll be a great athlete once you figure out the whole walkin' thing..."

or at bathtime, while she's got your baby in the sink, gently shampooing the two or three hairs on her head, you're guaranteed to find her catching your daughter up on the latest drama on the soap opera she swears she doesn't watch. "i know, it's fuckin' crazy! but, then, get this, molly, the homewrecker from season three? she shows up pregnant, swearing it's travis' kid! mind you, this is all at a funeral-- at shepard's funeral!" your daughter coos. "oh, shepard's the one who came out gay in season four but then decided to marry miriam in season five, because she needed her greencard." your daughter coos again, and sevika takes this as understanding. "right, you remember. anyways this pregnant bitch molly comes marching in while we're all crying because shep's dead, and she's like 'everybody look at me and my big fat belly!' turns out? she's stuffing her stomach with blankets..."

the funniest thing is that your daughter seems to understand it all, blinking up at sevika with big, interested eyes, absorbing her every word, cooing when she's silent, like she's responding to sevika's commentary.

after a while, it starts to rub off on you, and pretty soon, both you and sevika are talking to your little girl like she's an adult.

it's all fun and games until she starts talking, and her first words are 'fuck' and 'mama' and 'dickhead' and 'milk'

taglist!

@lesbeaniegreenie @fyeahnix @sapphicsgirl @half-of-a-gay @ellabslut @thesevi0lentdelights @sexysapphicshopowner @shimtarofstupidity @love-sugarr @chuucanchuucan @222danielaa @badbye666 @femme-historian @lia-winther @gr0ssz0mbi3 @ellsss @sevikaspillowprincess @leomatsuzaki

#sevika #sevika imagine #sevika arcane #sevika x reader #sevika x you #soft sevika

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wanderer-six · 1 year

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Golden Hour (for @starrylothcat)

NSFW (MINORS DNI)

AN: This is a gift for @starrylothcat as thanks for reading over my veRY long fic for the clone fic exchange--THANK U SO MUCH AGAIN and I really hope I did this prompt justice to thank u properly ahh HUNTER IS SUCH A DOLL and indulging in island life with Hunter ohhh what a dream skldhfls PLEASE ENJOY and thank u so much again ♥♥

Relationships: Hunter x Fem Jedi!Reader

Summary: You and Hunter have always harbored feelings for one another, but the galaxy always had something more pressing for the two of you to focus on. Now that you've arrived on Pabu, it seems you finally have a chance to be honest with yourselves and share how you truly feel... nerve-wracking as that may be.

Warnings: sweet to start, leading to smut (oral m! receiving, unprotected piv sex) (@starrylothcat said "I’m ok with some smutty smut kissy kissy too" aND I HOPE THIS ISNT TOO MUCH SMUTTY SMUT KISSY KISSY slkdhflkdsh)

Word Count: 3.5k

After months of running from the Empire, after years of war, Pabu was a dream.

The setting sun painted the calm, sprawling ocean warm orange and red. Standing outside the little bungalow you’d been staying in, the breeze rolling through your hair, you felt like the star of some sappy holovid–certainly a far cry from the role of Jedi General that you used to play.

The scene reminded you of the sunset over Coruscant, memories from back in your youth when you’d actually been able to enjoy such a sight. Having the time–the freedom–to enjoy it again now… you weren’t sure how to feel.

Pabu really was a dream. But much like your fondest dreams, you struggled to grow too attached, knowing you’d inevitably wake up. You always did.

Still, it was nice to pretend, even if it couldn’t last. You had a quaint home, your beloved squad (who had found plenty to enjoy about the island, themselves)... why couldn’t you be happy, just for a little while?

“I was wondering where you’d run off to…”

A bitter smile formed on your lips. Whether he knew it or not, he was one of your lingering reservations.

Hunter ascended the stone stairway, making his way to your side and leaning against the half-wall of the balcony.

“Mind if I join you?” he asked.

“Seems like you already have,” you teased.

Hunter chuckled. His gaze turned out to the ocean, but yours remained on him for a moment. Though he looked perfectly at peace, you could feel a buried tension within him through the Force.

“This place sure is something, isn’t it?” he remarked.

“Yeah,” you nodded, “it’s nice, finally getting a chance to relax. We all needed it.”

Hunter hummed in agreement, before falling silent. Still, he wouldn’t–or couldn’t–meet your gaze. With the way his eyes darted, and his lips pursed, you could tell he struggled with what to say next. The silence overstayed its welcome, until finally, he spoke.

“You know, being here has me… thinking about things.”

“Oh?”

You hated this game you played with one another, this dance around a truth that both of you pretended not to know. With your Force sensitivity and his heightened senses, you shared an understanding of one another that no one else could comprehend. On the battlefield, it made working in tandem a breeze. Off the battlefield–where it was just the two of you with no distractions–it made denying this thing between you nigh impossible.

You only wish one of you would be brave enough to spit it out. And though the thought gripped your heart with panic, Pabu clearly filled Hunter with courage.

“I think Shep was right,” he sighed. “If there was anywhere I’d want to lie low and settle down, this would be it.”

You nodded, your gaze falling.

“We could certainly do worse,” you noted, though your disheartened expression didn’t match your words. You knew he couldn’t stall forever. You only wish you had any idea of how you’d respond once he broached the subject.

Quiet fell over you again, the gentle island breeze deafening in comparison. You waited for Hunter to speak, not bold enough to break the silence yourself. Eventually, you heard not his voice, but a frustrated sigh.

And to your utmost surprise, his gloved hand boldly took yours.

Face burning red, you looked up at Hunter–only to find him looking back at you, brow furrowed and eyes intense. You could feel his heart racing through the Force, but he didn’t falter, braving his fears to hold your gaze. That was the man you would gladly lay down your life for.

The man you had fallen in love with.

“Listen… I know this won’t be easy to hear–it’s certainly not easy to say,” he began, straightforward and blunt now, “but… we need to talk. About us.”

Just as he promised, it wasn’t easy to hear. You pouted slightly, though you kept your eyes on his.

“What about us?” you feigned.

Hunter narrowed his gaze.

“You know what.”

Though panic tried to bubble up in your chest, Hunter’s hand squeezing yours anchored you in the moment.

“If there was ever a time for us to try being more than what we are now, this is it,” he pressed.

Despite his vote of confidence, doubts still nagged at the back of your mind. You pursed your lips, grappling with your words.

“I don’t know, Hunter…” you mumbled.

Hunter stepped closer to you. He faced you now, and you faced him in turn. Gently, he took your other hand into his grasp, keeping his eyes focused solely on you.

“Look… I know you’re scared–and believe me, I’m scared, too,” he sighed. He frowned, his eyes pleading with you as he continued. “But what scares me more is the thought of going my whole life never showing you what you really mean to me.”

Moving even closer, his lips mere inches from yours, he set a hand gently on your cheek. Despite your words of hesitation, you leaned into his touch with ease. His thumb ran along your cheekbone as he gazed upon your face with such affection and warmth.

“I’m not going to force you to do anything, but if you’re willing… I want to try,” he said. “You’re worth it. We’re worth it.”

Having heard your whole life that forming attachments would lead only to suffering, the fear that possessed you in that moment made every bit of sense. Still, you knew that Hunter was being truthful to say you were not alone in your worries. From both the clones’ training and his own reservations, the thought of forming ties with you filled him with fear, all the same. Yet, he wished to brave that fear for you. It was one of many things you loved about him–that he could look fear in the eyes and push through it without question.

And if you could brave a thousand droids to keep him safe, you could brave this unknown–especially if he braved it with you.

Swallowing your fear, you closed the distance between you, pressing your lips to Hunter’s as you’ve longed to for years now.

Hunter didn’t waste a moment, readily sweeping you into his arms as the kiss deepened. His hands gripped at your waist as though he feared losing hold of you somehow, but with your arms draped over his shoulders, hands tangled in his hair, you made it clear you were there to stay. On this beautiful island, with the love of your life… where else would you rather be than here?

When at last you broke away, your eyes fluttered open, relieved to see Hunter smiling back at you. He pressed his forehead to yours, and you beamed.

“Can’t say how long I’ve wanted to do that,” he grinned.

“Not as long as I have, I bet,” you teased.

Hunter dotted a small peck on your lips, before heaving a sigh–not of frustration this time, but one of content. For a moment, you simply held one another, basking in the glow of the sun and the warmth of your love. After a while, you went to speak again, but before you could, the lanterns around you flickered on, illuminating you and the rest of the island as dusk faded to night.

“Guess that’s my cue,” Hunter chuckled. “I should get going, but… I’m glad we’re on the same page.”

Hunter stepped away from you, but couldn’t go much further–not when your hands took hold of his. He looked back at you with surprise, only to find you pouting… and blushing.

“I… I want you to stay,” you murmured.

Hunter’s eyes went wide, but soon enough, he found his confidence–confidence made much worse by your bashfulness. It was rare for him to have a leg up on you, and he seemed eager to enjoy it while he could.

“Well, I’d love to, but… it’s getting late–I need to get back to my bungalow,” he sighed dramatically. His grin widened as he continued. “That is… unless you think there’s somewhere else I could sleep…”

You tilted your head, narrowing your eyes at him and frowning. Your expression told him all he needed to know: stop being such a smartass and stay the night. Unable to resist you, he chuckled, drawing you closer and pressing a kiss to your forehead.

“All right, all right; I’ll stay,” he conceded. “You won’t hear me complaining, that’s for sure…”

Smiling again, you kissed him once more, keeping his hand in yours as you led him toward the door of your place.

, , ,

When you went inside, a small feeling of comfort came over you at the sight of your little bungalow. By all accounts, it was barren, save for the furniture that Shep and the locals had been kind enough to supply you with. You’d strewn around a few knick knacks you’d picked up in your travels with the Batch, along with some decorations you’d bought on Pabu itself. But even lightly decorated, it was the closest thing to a home you’d had since the Jedi Temple on Coruscant.

“Nice place,” Hunter teased, looking over the ‘nothing’ that comprised your humble residence. “Lived here long?”

As you locked the door behind you, you rolled your eyes. You turned to him with a smirk, draping your arms around his neck once more.

“Actually, I just moved in,” you answered, grin widening as his hands found your hips. “In fact, I was thinking just this morning about how it could use some breaking in…”

Hunter looked you over, his expression caught somewhere between love and lust.

“Heh… I think I could lend you a hand there,” he chuckled.

Boldly, Hunter lifted you into his arms, prompting you to wrap your legs around his waist as he met you in another kiss–though one far hungrier than what you’d shared before. He carried you over to the bed, laying you down on the plush white covers before parting from you with a kiss on the forehead.

“Here, let me get these out of your way,” he said, getting to work removing the bulky armor pieces that he wore even over his so-called civilian attire. You watched him intently as he shuffled piece after piece onto the floor, until at last the clothes beneath were all that remained. When he reached for the bottom of his shirt and peeled it off over his shoulders, he met your gaze with a smirk.

“Enjoying yourself?” he asked.

With a bright smile, you could only nod. You and Hunter had caught glimpses of one another in various states of undress before–living aboard a ship as cramped as the Marauder was bound to lead to that. But watching him strip fully before you–and for you, at that–thrilled you far more than an absent glance at his shirtless figure as he left the shower. No, at last, he was finally yours to see… though “seeing” was far from all you wished to do.

Now stripped to just his pants, Hunter returned to you, his lips finding yours again with ease. His body felt hot against your skin, but when his fingers trailed beneath the hem of your shirt, you shivered. You had gotten in the habit of dressing down on Pabu, enjoying the warm sun and cool breeze of island life. But while it made Hunter’s job of undressing you that much easier, it left you feeling that much more vulnerable.

Gently, Hunter worked your cropped shirt off your shoulders, his lips parting from yours as the fabric crossed between the two of you. Seeing you bare before him, Hunter’s eyes widened. A blush flooded your cheeks, and you looked away, ready to make a snarky remark about his staring. But when his hands found your chest, your words left you, replaced with a shaky whimper.

“Hunter…!” you gasped as his fingers sunk into the softness of your skin. Though rough from years of combat, his hands treated you so carefully. His caressing filled you with warmth, and you could tell he was enjoying himself just as much.

“I just can’t believe how beautiful you are,” he remarked. With a chuckle, he added, “And I can’t believe I’m finally lucky enough to tell you.”

With one parting kiss on your lips, his mouth moved down your body to lavish your breasts with attention. He latched onto one of your nipples, holding it gently between his teeth as his tongue swirled around it. You could hardly handle the sensation, short of breath with every purse of his lips against your skin, but it seemed he still had more in mind.

One of his hands trailed slowly down your stomach, slipping beneath the waistband of your shorts. Pressing lightly, but still firmly enough to drive you crazy, he began tracing tight circles on your panties–right over the place you craved his touch the most.

“Hunter!” you gasped again. Between his mouth and his fingers, it was no wonder your face burned. “Kriff, Hunter…”

His eyes practically glowed in the low light, doing nothing to help your flustered state when they peered up at you. He plucked his lips from your chest, smirking that awful smirk as he continued teasing you with his fingers.

“You’re already soaked,” he whispered, lips pressed to your ear in a way that far from helped the matter. “I’m guessing you’ve been hoping for this as much as I have…”

While any other night you’d be content to lose yourself in this attention, he guessed correctly–you had been hoping for this as much, and as long, as he had. Which meant, unfortunately for him, that you were far from ready to give in.

Mustering up your strength, you threw your weight around him, rolling him over so that he rested beneath you, with you straddling his hips. Though his eyes went wide, you smirked down at him, running a hand through that beautiful, long hair of his.

“Where do you get off, showing me all this attention?” you purred, fingers tracing down his muscular chest.

Finding a smirk to match yours, Hunter tugged you closer by your hips. Between your legs, you could feel just how achingly hard he’d grown.

“I think you know where,” he snarked back.

Rolling your eyes, you backed off of him, pulling his pants down to his thighs as you went. When his length was finally exposed to you, you could hardly contain your excitement. You took hold of him, delighting in the way his expression turned when you began to stroke his shaft.

“Ah… just like that,” he breathed, losing himself in the rhythmic pumping you spoiled him with. Though he seemed to enjoy this plenty, you had other plans in mind.

“Hm… just like this?” you asked, your playful tone causing him to raise an eyebrow at you. Boldly, you leaned in closer to his length. “But what about this?”

Before he could speak, your lips pressed against his tip, catching his words in his throat. With a swirl of your tongue around his head, you opened your mouth, taking his cock inside and sucking on him. The precum that flowed from his length coated your tongue, and you readily coaxed more from him with every bob of your head.

Hunter’s breath hitched in his chest, and his moans only made you more eager to please him. While one of his hands gripped at the white comforter beneath him, the other tangled itself in your hair, keeping it out of your face so he could watch your lips descend on his cock over and over. Each time you’d glance at him, the hunger in his eyes made you ache between your hips.

When your lips met the base of his cock–when you felt the tip probe against your throat–Hunter gasped.

“Fuck, cyare!”

His hand tightened in your hair, pulling your mouth from his length with an unceremonious pop. When you looked up at him, you found his eyes half-lidded with lust, a red haze tinting his tanned cheeks.

“Ride me,” he begged, a rasp in his voice that sent a shiver through your body.

With a wordless nod, you straddled his hips, aching to be filled by him just as he ached to fill you. You lined him up with your opening, only hesitating when you felt his hands settle on your hips. He flashed a smile at you–one you matched with ease.

Then, carefully, you set yourself down on his length. You descended with agonizing patience, until you finally bottomed out against his hips. His cock filled you so perfectly, your walls gripping him as though you might never let him go. Not that he wanted to go anywhere–judging by the way he clung to your hips so hard you worried they might bruise, he seemed content to stay buried inside of you for the rest of time.

“Mm, Hunter…” you breathed. With your hands planted firmly on his shoulders, you started to ride him, whimpering as you moved. “I didn’t think you would feel this good.”

Through his breathless moans, he chuckled.

“You didn’t?” he teased.

You bit your lip and grinned back at him.

“Is it so hard to believe you could surpass my every fantasy, Sergeant?” you asked.

Hunter smirked. “I guess not…”

Catching you by surprise, Hunter thrusted against your hips as you rode him, nearly knocking the air out of you and filling your eyes with stars.

“But then again, I think you know better than to underestimate me.”

In no time at all, you found yourself limp against Hunter’s chest, face buried in the crook of his neck. His arms held you firmly against him by your waist as he pounded his cock into you over and over, dizzying you with delight. As he fucked you, he pressed his lips to your head, whispering sweet nothings against you between his labored moans.

You’re beautiful.

I’m all yours.

Let me take care of you, cyare.

And take care of you he did. By the time you neared your peak, you lay beneath him, your fingers raking down his toned back. The tension mounted between your hips with every thrust, made worse with his thumb drawing rhythmic circles on your clit.

“Hunter,” you moaned between languid kisses on his neck, “I’m close…”

“Me, too,” he sighed. “Where do you want me, love?”

You gazed intently into his eyes, your forehead on his.

“Inside,” you whispered without a moment’s thought.

With a nod, Hunter’s lips met yours, and he buried himself in you over and over until you could scarcely handle it. Breathless, your chest seized. You grasped onto him, nails digging into his skin as your orgasm overwhelmed you. Waves of ecstasy rippled through your core, your cunt fluttering around Hunter’s cock in such a way that fulfilling your desire was all but an inevitability for him. He filled you with his cum, your name parting from his lips as he met his end.

For all the battles you had endured at his side, you had never once seen Hunter this breathless. He trembled, held up by just his forearms, looking into your eyes with all the love in the galaxy. Only once he’d met you in one last loving kiss did he pull out of you, collapsing at your side and drawing you into his embrace.

The two of you shared in silence once again–though this time, not one filled by an unspoken tension between you. Instead, it was one of understanding, of comfort. A silence shared between two souls who understood one another, finally laid bare after hiding for so long.

Eventually, you smiled, giggling quietly–much to Hunter’s amusement.

“What’s so funny?” he smirked, squeezing your hips playfully.

Looking up at him with bright eyes, you bumped your nose against his.

“Nothing. I just… can’t believe it took us this long,” you confessed.

Hunter chuckled. “Believe me: if I’d known you would react like that, I would’ve worked up the courage to say something a long time ago…”

Rolling your eyes, you draped your arms over Hunter’s shoulders, luring him in for another soft, sweet kiss.

“Well… I’m just happy we’re trying now,” you sighed.

Though you had more to say, a quiet yawn interrupted your thoughts. Hunter helped you beneath the covers, plenty worn out himself. By now, night had fully fallen over Pabu, and the quiet back-and-forth of the tide beckoned both of you to rest.

“I’m happy, too,” Hunter said, voice hushed as his fingers worked soothingly through your hair. “Even if it’s hard to admit… I think we both deserve it.”

With a warm smile, you nestled against Hunter’s chest, adoring the way his body kept you warm and protected from the night air.

“I do, too…” you mumbled, fading fast now. “Good night, Hunter… sweet dreams.”

Hunter smiled, closing his eyes with his lips pressed against your head.

“Yeah… sweet dreams,” he whispered.

AN: Thank you for reading!! I feel like this fic got away from me LOL but nonetheless I hope you enjoyed we love soft Hunter mwah mwah!~~✨✨

#tbb x reader #the bad batch x reader #the bad batch x you #hunter x reader #hunter tbb #tbb hunter x reader #Hunter/Reader #reader insert #reader #W6Fic

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dragonrider9905 · 22 days

Text

Midnight Dances

Summery: You and Wrecker have a dance at midnight; accidental spilling of feelings. Warnings: None that I can think of; pure fluff.

Celebrating You Prompt List

Celebrating You Masterlist

@rinksu-no-joo here you go!!!!!! Thank you so much for taking a chance on my writing!!!! I really hope you enjoy this little drabble :) I never wrote Wrecker before this so I hope I did him justice. I really enjoyed doing it. He's such a sweetheart! Without further ado, I present....

It was nearly twelve.

You looked at the chrono on the wall of the Marauder and sighed, sinking further into your seat and settling your head in your rest-folded arms, being careful of the long tails that fell from your head. The ship was quiet. The air was still and warm. The summer waves just outside your walls softly rolled onto the beaches of Pabu and you could hear from the open door the soft whooshing of water and swaying of trees. A soft breeze whispered through the night inviting you out.

If montrals could twitch with delight, yours would be. You didn't know where the Batchers were, but you knew they were safe and happy like they ought to be. They’d gone to dinner at Shep’s again so you figured they were still there. You stayed behind to enjoy the time alone while you still could. You loved the boys but sometimes being around them ALL the time could be a bit much…especially if you wanted to spend time with just one of them…Sometimes being alone helped you forget the loneliness you felt.

Smiling to yourself, you straightened. Time be darned, you’d go for a walk! Pabu was always gently lit with warm light and on a night like tonight, so perfect and still, why not?

You pushed yourself up in a heartbeat and skipped down the stairs of the Marauder, an alluring adventure awaited!

You always enjoyed being out at night on the island. The cold light of the moon and the warm lights of the fire danced on your orange skin in such a way you'd always felt beautiful. The odd mixtures of light illuminated and highlighted the markings on your face. The teal and ocean blue almost looked green and purple in the deceiving truth of certain angles. Lines of two strips that ended in swirls landed where most human eyebrows were. Three diamonds centered on your forehead while thin lines swirled in and around them, retreating to your hairline, crowning you like a princess. On your cheeks, two distinctive but simple swivels that matched your head tails made their way from your temple across your cheeks, stopping right before the chin. You'd like to think the moonlight made you look like a sprite while the fire made you a fierce warrior.

At least, that's how you hoped a particular someone viewed you.

The Veranda was beautiful at this time of night. It was empty but not devoid. Instead, life sprouted from everywhere! Flowers and trees and music! Music? Where was that coming from?

“Shep thought some strings would be a good way to celebrate the beginning of swordfish season. Whatdaya think?”

Nearly jumping out of your skin, you yelped.

“Wrecker!”

“Haha I knew where to find you. Miss me yet?”

Yes, actually.

You smiled bashfully.

“I–”

Wrecker cut you off before you had a chance to finish.

“Well I missed YOU. Dinner was great, as always, but the company wasn't the same without ya. So I thought I'd find ya. Having fun all by yourself?”

You hummed. “Yes, but, I'd have more fun if you joined me.”

“Great! What are we doing?”

You paused for a moment. When by yourself, you usually liked to think and look at the stars or the nature around you. You rarely got to spend time alone with Wrecker to know what to do with only him. Omega or one of his brothers always trailed along. You’d often dreamed of the chance but never got it. You came up with so many scenarios and now you couldn’t recall one.

You doubted you'd get any thinking in, that weren't thoughts of Wrecker. Plus, if you were going to be alone —together—, you should do more than just think! You should do something! Something that could involve talking! You loved talking to Wrecker. He was always cheerful, finding any way he could light those around him in a glow of happiness. Making you laugh when you were down and giggle in delight when you were happy.

What would be a good idea….?

Think think think. Come on! Think of something fast.

Wrecker waited expectedly and patiently, like he always did with you when he asked you a question that made you pause and consider. His head was cocked to the side and a crooked smile graced his face. He looked like he was enjoying something immensely but you had no idea what. He started rocking back and forth from his heel to his toe in a very impish manner. You had to say, you loved that about him.

Wait…something about the movement…

Then a lightbulb went on.

“Say big guy, wanna dance?”

You held out your hand, cheeks pulled upward in the tightest grin you could make.

“It'll be fun! Trust me!”

Wrecker hesitated

“I, uh,” Wrecker rubbed the back of his head uncertainly, “I don’t know how to dance.” His face turned red and he looked away, embarrassed.

“Oh come on, I’ll teach you!”

“I don’t want to hurt you. Stepping on your feet…I’m too big and clumsy and…” he trailed off. “I’d do some damage.”

By the look of complete and utter disappointment on his face, you could tell he wanted to. Wrecker was an open book and you could read him like a page lit by the Tatooine suns…for almost everything. The only thing you couldn’t tell was how he felt about you.

That was irrelevant though. Right now, what mattered was he wanted to dance.

But he didn’t want to hurt you.

Sweet, considerate Wrecker. Always thinking of others.

You hummed thoughtfully, cocking your head to the side in thought, your head tails swaying with the motion. An idea struck and a smile spread across your face into your eyes.

“I got an idea.”

Lifting to your tiptoes, you delicately stepped onto the tops of his steel toed shoes. Your feet, the fraction of a size of his, fit perfectly on top.

You were close to him. Closer than you'd ever been before. You were practically in a permanent hug and you were grateful for the armor he was wearing so he couldn't feel how hard your heart was beating. It wouldn't take Hunter's enhanced senses for anyone to notice at that range without the chesptlate’s obstruction.

Taking a deep breath, you gently guided one of Wrecker's hands to your waist and the other, you weaved your fingers through his, squeezing softly in assurance.

“Ok, now just let the music guide you. Lift your left foot and step forward. Lift and step to the side. Lift and step back. Good! See!…there! We're dancing!”

Wrecker swayed slowly to the music, fully concentrating on the steps he took lest he'd knock you over and you both would lose your balance. But he held on firmly, like a rock in the sea. Never once did you doubt. Never once did you feel you'd sink. Never once did you think you'd crash and burn because you were on a cloud of heaven being carried away by its angel.

It was slow. Not even good, clumsy almost. But it was perfect.

After a few moments of silence, you decided to say something.

“So, Wrecker, do you believe in love?”

Well that was stupid. Cringing inwardly and repressing an eyeroll to yourself, you felt your face flood with heat. Looking down to let the moment pass, you nearly missed his response.

A quiet “yes.” Almost a whisper. A very uncharacteristical tone in his voice that made you look up.

“Good.” You smiled at him. “It’s a beautiful thing. Ever think you’ll fall in love?”

Silence.

Well that was stupid.

“But I have to say,” you continued to cover your blunder, “love at first sight doesn’t exist.” You rolled your eyes and continued. “That’s just some silly notion a card and gift store made up so they could sell holofilms.”

Wrecker did a full stop. He lifted his head as if surprised, leaning back so as to look you in the face, searching your eyes and questioning your soul.

“Then how else do I describe the feeling I got when I first saw you?”

It was your turn to stare agape.

“Wait…You…love me?”

“Apparently not, according to you.”

Time froze around you. The birds stopped chirping their early morning calls, the ocean silenced it’s waves for you, and the wind stopped its whispers.

“You love me.” The words came out confident but only in a hushed voice. The realization settling into your bones. You nodded, tears coming to your eyes, then you laughed.

“You love me?” You nearly shouted this time, throwing your arms up and around Wrecker’s neck.

Your laughs wrapped you both in a blanket and broke the spell around you. Wrecker wrapped his arms tighter around you and spun with a laugh of his own.

Setting you down, he placed a kiss on your forehead.

“I do. I love you.”

You could shout for joy, but that wouldn’t be a good idea considering the lateness of the hour. Instead, you cuddled closer to him, tightening your embrace.

“I love you too, Wreck. So, so much. You made me so happy.”

Wrecker rested his head on yours, careful of the tips that rose gracefully from your head, and started the steps you taught him again. After a moment of silence, he spoke:

“Say, I like dancing lessons. Maybe we can learn more tomorrow night?”

“Sounds perfect to me.”

Dividers by @djarrex and @ve-ti-ver

#the bad batch #tbb wrecker #tbb wrecker x reader #bad batch wrecker #wrecker and reader #wrecker and you #wrecker x reader #dragonrider9905 follower celebration #dragonrider9905's 100 follower celebration #celebrating you #follower celebration

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baejax-the-great · 1 year

Text

“Do you think this is my original bellybutton?”

Kaidan reluctantly opens his eyes, his face scrunching up as he parses the question. “What?”

Shepard points, as if that will help. “My bellybutton. Miranda had to reconstruct so much of me, so much of my skin, that I don’t know what’s new and what’s old.”

“Does it matter?”

“No… but it’s weird, right? I mean the bellybutton had already served its purpose. It’s not like she was using it. There would be no reason to give me another one if I lost the first one.”

“Go to bed, Shep.”

“I mean, there’s no way Alliance intel bothered to write down somewhere that I was an innie instead of an outie. What if she had gotten it wrong? How weird would that be? Die as an outie, wake up as an innie with a vestigial bellybutton reconstructed purely for aesthetic reasons.”

“Innies are more common.”

Shepard isn’t even listening. “I mean when’s the last time you saw a model with an outie? You’d notice something like that.”

Kaidan turns over and ignores his insomniac commander.

Shepard pokes him. “You think that’s part of the Cerberus agenda? Perfect the human race by increasing the proportion of innies to outies? Prejudiced bastards.”

Kaidan sighs. “You really want to know my thoughts on the Cerberus agenda?”

“I do. I really do.”

“I think that the most effective thing you could do right now to thwart it is to go the fuck to sleep.”

#mass effect #kaidan alenko #kaidan #shepard #shenko #is it mshep or fshep?#you take your pick #brought to you by #I was drawing shepard's bellybutton and went down a WEIRD thought train rabbithole #ficlet #oh shit i did gender Shepard #lmao showing my cards #okay fixed it back to gender ambiguity

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stars-n-spice · 26 days

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Thoughts on s3 ep11!

Fucking hell you guys,, this episode,,

I have too many thoughts so I'm going to hit the main ones so I'm not bent over my laptop crying as I type this up for like ten minutes,,

just know that the entire episode had me like this though

ok, screaming and spoilers under the cut-

Why does the Batch have THE worst luck in the world huh?? Hunter decides to go live on Pabu, Empire comes and snatches up Omega. Hunter decides (rightfully so) to leave Pabu to not jeopardize the people there. The Empire comes and fucks up everything AND Omega gets taken away AGAIN.

I just want something GOOD to go well for them for ONCE. Is that too much to ask for??

Also Clone X being able to do what he did because both Phee and Wrecker were arguing with droids??

Omega putting Tech's glasses and Lula in the museum made me burst out into tears. For some reason that made me think that Tech really is dead (as much as I don't want to believe it). I think it was a beautiful send off (even if everything went to shit right after) and after that touching send off I kinda want Tech to stay dead, as bad as it hurts

Them showing us shots of Pabu and all the residents (with the clone cadets and Shep and Lyana) all happy and living their best life before the storm was so fucked up

Hunter why are your senses so out of wack huh?? And how come no matter what your hair stays dry?? Fucked up world we live in.

Ok but if Tech IS alive and IS Clone X,, this episode is so much fucking worse and angsty if that's the case,, having him come back and do all of that to Pabu?? Oh my god,, I hate it so much

Hunter taking down those stormtroopers was hot as fuck though

OMEGA SACRIFICING HERSELF FOR PABU??? FUCK OFF SHE IS A CHILD DON'T MAKE HER GO THROUGH THIS SHIT!!

Cannot tell you how much distress I was in during the second half of the episode,, oh my god,,,

The PAIN on Crosshair's face and in his voice when Omega brought up the idea of turning herself in?? That's going to haunt me forever man,, just,, fucking,, ouch

Oh man,, I was so worried that he wouldn't be able to get the tracker on the ship because of his hand tremors but no it was because of the FUCKING stormtroopers

The absolute devastation Crosshair must've felt in that moment,, I've never seen so much pain on a helmeted character's face oh my god

THINGS ARE JUST GETTING SO MUCH WORSE FUCKING HELL!!

how do you think Wrecker and Hunter are going to react to this huh??? they're going to be fucking LIVID oh my god and Crosshair is probably going to blame himself and they're (Hunter more so) is going to blame Crosshair and then we'll be back to square one fucking AUUGHHH

IF ECHO WAS HERE NONE OF THIS WOULD'VE HAPPENED

#im not ok #this episode was devastating #bye lula #bye tech's goggles #bye maurader #fucking UGGHH #i have a headache #i need to go lie down #sigh #tbb #tbb s3 #tbb spoilers #tbb s3 spoilers #tbb omega #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #clone x #pabu

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just-here-with-my-thoughts · 2 months

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Day 22: Human Weapon / Worked Themselves to Exhaustion

@febuwhump prompt Alt 4: Human Weapon @badthingshappenbingo prompt: Worked Themselves to Exhaustion

Fandom: The Bad Batch Characters: Omega, Crosshair, Hunter Set when they are all living happily on Pabu Word Count: ~2440 Read Here on A03

Synopsis: Omega wants to celebrate her friend's birthday, and finds out Crosshair's thoughts on the subject.

100% inspired by the fact I baked cupcakes for Season 3 launch day

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Crosshair leaned against the kitchen counter, watching Omega through eyed narrowed in suspicion. The clone girl was up to her elbows in ingredients, packets and boxes discarded messily around her as she focussed with forceful concentration on the large mixing bowl.

Omega’s hands, arms and apron were all streaked with powdery white debris from where she had tipped the bag of flour with too much enthusiasm, and she spread the mess to her face when she tried to wipe her hair out of her eyes with the back of her arm.

“I don’t know why you’re going to all this trouble,” Crosshair said with a deprecating edge of boredom to his voice. “What’s the point?”

He reached out and snagged a party snack from a nearby platter, cubes of cheese and pineapple skewered neatly on wooden cocktail sticks. Omega smacked his retreating hand with the back of her mixing spoon; he grinned unrepentantly and held her gaze whilst devouring the dainty snack and turning the cocktail stick in his mouth like a toothpick.

“Crosshair! Those are for the party guests!” Omega scolded, putting down her current utensil and whisking the platter out of Crosshair’s reach.

Crosshair merely shrugged, licking the batter residue of her assault from his hand before folding his arms.

“And the point is, it’s Lyana’s birthday! We’re going to celebrate. I told Shep I would make the cake.”

“You don’t know how to make cake,” said Crosshair bluntly.

Omega grit her teeth and returned to her bowl, starting to mix again. “That’s why I’m following a recipe,” she told him, in the tone of voice one uses with someone struggling to grasp a simple concept.

Crosshair scooped up a broken eggshell and inspected it. It had taken Omega five minutes to fish the remnants of the shell out of the cake batter earlier when she had misjudged the force needed to crack the egg into the bowl.

“Still don’t see why you’re bothering,” he said, turning to toss the eggshell into the bin with precision accuracy. “It’s not like Lyana’s ever going to do something like this for you.”

“Why not?” said Omega grumpily.

“You’re a clone,” was Crosshair’s flat reply. “Clones don’t have birthdays.”

Omega paused in her task, looking up at him with wide brown eyes.

“Birthdays are a stupid nat-born tradition,” continued Crosshair, glaring about at the mess in the kitchen. “All this fuss over one day. They get older every day, and yet make such a noise about marking this one day in particular.” He jabbed a finger in Omega’s direction. “You don’t have a birthday. Lyana is never going to make cake for you. So why bother doing this for her?”

For a moment Omega just stared at him, mouth hanging open in shock as she processed his unexpected diatribe. Then she returned to her mix with renewed ferocity, scraping the spoon along the edges of the bowl and scooping the batter out into the waiting cake tin.

“We get decanted,” she said, a little crossly. “That’s like being born.”

Crosshair barked a bitter laugh. “What are you going to do, celebrate your decanting anniversary?”

“I could!” Omega snapped back, fixing him with a glare before returning to levelling the cake batter. “We all could! Some of Echo’s reg friends from the 501st do. I heard him talking to them about it. They invited him to Coruscant, but he couldn’t go because Tech was upgrading the Marauder.”

Crosshair sniffed and tightened his arms across his chest. Omega didn’t miss the defensive movement, or the way his shoulders rose towards his ears with ill-concealed tension.

Taking a deep breath, Omega shook her thoughts and concentrated on the next step in the cake procedure. She carefully sheathed her hands in the protective heat-mitts before opening the oven, and even more carefully lifted the cake tin down onto the wire shelf.

When she straightened up she took the mitts off and threw one of them at Crosshair.

“Why don’t you want to celebrate your decanting day?” she asked, in that special voice he knew she saved for when she wouldn’t back down from a fight. “What’s so bad about it?”

“For starters, I’m an elite clone commando, not a child,” Crosshair drawled, and the second mitt followed the first. Crosshair dodged, but didn’t break a smile. His face had settled into a familiar frown that they had been seeing less of of late, and Omega paused and walked round to stand beside him instead.

“You can tell me, Crosshair,” she said, leaning her shoulder against his side. He didn’t respond immediately, so she let her head rest against his upper arm as well. “Why don’t you want to talk about your decanting day?”

Crosshair huffed and shrugged her off, so she returned to standing, looking up at him expectantly. His gaze was fixed straight ahead, teeth clenching hard around the toothpick as he chewed on his answer.

“I don’t know about the regs,” he said at length, voice soft and sibilant above the hum of the oven, “but for enhanced clones, your decanting day anniversary was a day for the Kaminoans to take you and test you, measure you, make sure you were developing as expected…” He trailed off, shaking his head sharply as though it could dispel the memories. He scrunched his eyes shut, head dropping forwards. “It was a convenient day for them to check you were on target. If you weren’t performing adequately, or if they found a defect…”

When he trailed off Omega reached out tentatively, trying to rest her small, messy hand over his. Crosshair flinched his hand out of reach.

“We were designed to be human weapons,” he hissed through clenched teeth. “Decanting day was when they performed their quality control checks.”

Omega could see the tremor that had set up in his tall frame, and made another attempt to capture his hand. This time she twined her sticky cake-batter fingers through his, taking his arm from where it was folded across his chest and letting it drop between them as they stood side by side, both looking forwards at the messy kitchen counter rather than at each other.

“I’m sorry that you had to be scared of that, Crosshair,” she said softly, giving his hand a gentle squeeze as she spoke.

Crosshair’s fingers twitched in return. He didn’t return the pressure of her hand, but it was something, and at least this time he wasn’t trying to pull away.

“We’re on Pabu now,” Omega continued, her voice lighter. “No more tests. For any of us.” She gave a small smile. “Just Lyana’s birthday party.”

Crosshair grunted a noise that might have been agreement. Then he took his hand back from hers, wiping the stickiness off on her shoulder.

“Ew, Crosshair!” Omega protested. “I’m wearing an apron for a reason!”

“You should clean up this mess before Hunter gets home,” said Crosshair, gesturing at the kitchen. “Maybe wash the flour out your hair too.”

Omega heaved a sigh, brushed her hands down the front of her apron, and began to clean up.

“Crosshair, the cake… it’s stuck…”

Crosshair peered over with feigned disinterest. Omega shook the cake-tin hard, only for the top of it to break away and land in a fragmented pile on the cooling rack, whilst the base stayed resolutely stuck inside the cake tin.

Omega gasped in dismay and turned the tin over, inspecting the damaged remains of her baking attempt. Crosshair picked up the datapad she had been using, skimming the recipe.

“Did you remember to grease the cake tin before you poured the batter in?” he asked drily.

Omega groaned, covering her face with her hands. “I’m going to have to do the whole thing again.”

“Looks like it.” Crosshair checked the chrono on the datapad. “Better hurry it up, too. You haven’t got long before the party.”

Reluctantly, but with a sense of urgency, Omega began to retrieve the baking ingredients and equipment she had so carefully stowed and washed up. Crosshair watched with the faintest smile as she began the process again.

Lyana’s birthday party went late into the night. Long after the children were dozing the adults sat and talked and drank and laughed.

Omega curled up at the end of Lyana’s bed, both girls chatting before conversation lapsed into sleepy yawns, and eventually quiet. Omega was vaguely aware of the door opening, and being lifted from her position on top of Lyana’s covers and held close against a warm, familiar torso.

“Kid’s tired out,” came Hunter’s voice, his usually gruff tone softened with a smile.

“Worked herself to exhaustion baking two birthday cakes,” came a snarky, sibilant reply, and Omega smiled into Hunter’s shoulder at Crosshair’s presence.

The gentle swaying motion of being carried against Hunter’s body was enough to keep her lulled at the edge of sleep, but the cool night air tugged at her consciousness to stop her dropping off completely. Omega nestled closer to Hunter’s chest and kept her eyes closed as she listened to the brothers talk.

“Omega wants her own birthday celebration,” Crosshair told Hunter after a while. He sounded dubious as he said it.

Hunter breathed a snort. “What for?”

“That’s what I said. She said we should celebrate our decanting day anniversary.”

A ripple of tension passed through Hunter’s body. Omega stilled her breath, listening to the way his heart-rate spiked. Her fingers curled a little in his scarf, and she hoped he hadn’t noticed she was awake.

“Hardly a day to celebrate,” muttered Hunter.

Omega felt them slow to a halt. She risked peeking one eye open, trying to see what was happening. Hunter was staring distantly at the dark ocean around the island, and Crosshair was stood beside him with one hand on the back of his brother’s shoulder, thumb rubbing soothingly up and down the nape of Hunter’s neck.

“You’re still here,” he murmured. The hand stilled, then squeezed his shoulder.

“Almost wasn’t,” breathed Hunter softly.

Crosshair’s voice was neutral. “I know.”

A few moments of silence. Then Hunter drew a shuddering breath and started walking again.

“So Omega wants a decanting day party.”

“Yeah.”

A short head-shake.

“I don’t know. It brings back a lot of memories.”

They stopped again. Now Omega felt herself being lifted from Hunter’s arms, before Crosshair gently laid her down on a bench.

She opened her eyes and watched as Crosshair returned to his brother, folding both arms around him and drawing him into a close embrace. Hunter buried his face in Crosshair’s shoulder, hands grabbing fistfuls of his brother’s shirt, and Cross stroked one hand through Hunter’s hair, humming soothingly.

“We’re on Pabu now,” he whispered, and Omega recognised her own words. “No more tests. For any of us.”

Crosshair tilted the mixing bowl towards Omega, an annoyed scowl on his face. “Is this mixed enough?”

Omega rolled her eyes and pushed the bowl back to him. “No! Look, you can still see lumps of butter, and all these sugar crystals. It has to be beaten properly.”

“What does that even mean?” growled Crosshair in annoyance.

“It means mix until smooth and fully combined,” Omega told him patiently. “When that’s done, you can add the eggs.”

“At least I’ll remember to grease the tin,” the sniper muttered as he returned to beating the mixture. Omega leaned her elbows on the counter, watching him with a smile.

“Why did you decide you wanted to learn to bake, anyway?” she asked cheerily.

An uncharacteristic flush spread across Crosshair’s cheeks and he narrowed his eyes, concentrating fully on the task in front of him. “No reason,” he said, a lie so obvious it made it hard to question.

Crosshair’s impatience was clear as Omega talked him through the rest of the recipe, including turning up the temperature on the oven in the hope that the cake would cook faster. Omega rescued the situation when she smelled the charcoal scent of burning batter, turning the oven back down and opening the door to let the curling smoke escape.

Crosshair glared at the finished cake, blackened round the edges, as it cooled on the wire rack.

“It’s awful,” he declared in annoyance.

“It’ll be fine once you cut these bits off,” said Omega, sawing at the burnt sections with a knife. “Or, you could start again–”

“This one will be fine.”

Crosshair tracked Hunter down to the docks, where the former sergeant was helping unload the fishing vessels as they came in. He grabbed his brother without explanation, pulling him to one side.

“What’s the matter, Crosshair?” asked Hunter, concerned, a feeling which only grew when Crosshair refused to meet his eyes.

“I made this for you,” muttered the sniper sullenly, extending a shallow card box about a foot across. Hunter took it with a puzzled look.

“Open it then,” snapped Crosshair, turning away and folding his arms. His frame was written with the kind of tension that spoke of protecting vulnerabilities, and Hunter raised his eyebrows in soft amusement.

Cracking open the box lid did nothing to ease his confusion. “You got me a cake?” he asked, then recalled his brother’s words. “You… made me a cake.”

He lifted the lid all the way off, inspecting the trimmed edges, still crusted with a small burnt sections here and there. The top of the cake had been messily iced with an uneven layer of buttercream, but on top of that in a contrasting icing colour was a very precisely piped version of his familiar half-skull tattoo.

“It’s stupid,” said Crosshair quickly, like he needed to insult his own creation before Hunter could. “But I thought…”

He trailed off, then fished a toothpick out of his pocket and chewed on it anxiously.

Hunter waited for him to continue, and when he didn’t he prompted, “What did you think, Cross?”

Crosshair huffed in annoyance, glaring out over the sea as he spoke. “It’s your decanting day,” he muttered. “I thought… maybe if I made it special, maybe if you had a cake, like a nat-born birthday… then it’d be a nicer thing for you to think about than remembering the year you were almost decommissioned.”

Hunter looked at the cake for a moment, then up at his brother, a soft smile touching the corners of his lips.

“Did you bring a knife to cut it with?”

The relieved exhale Crosshair gave released some of the tension from his frame. “You… you want to eat it?”

Hunter grinned and nudged his shoulder to his brother’s.

“Yeah,” he said, “but only if I can share it with you.”

#febuwhump #febuwhumpday22 #febuwhumpalt4 #human weapon #badthingshappenbingo #worked themselves to exhaustion #posting at quarter past midnight #because anytime after midnight is technically febuwhump day 22 morning #the bad batch #tbb fanfic #tbb hunter #tbb omega #tbb crosshair #omega and crosshair #hunter and crosshair #baking cakes on pabu #what more can you want

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girafficparka · 3 months

Text

Untitled WIP I’ve been working on off and on to help with writers block for a different fic. I kinda really liked it so here ya go!

Inspiration: mass effect 3 owes me a decent shep/garrus/kaiden love triangle, and I plan to collect.

~~~

“I don’t know what you’re in the mood for tonight, Shepard. But Vega insists that we watch something called…Hard Death?” Garrus was saying as he entered her cabin. He was reviewing the title of the vid on his omni-tool. “Scratch that. Die Hard. He said it was a traditional human holiday vid, so I thought…Shepard?”

He stopped short when he looked up and caught Shepard staring at him, silently, from her couch. Humans weren’t exactly the easiest species to read - they were expressive, but often he could never figure out what each of their hundred of expressions meant - but he’d like to think he knew Shepard pretty well. She looked…stricken.

“Shepard?” he repeated, fully entering her cabin and approaching her. He went to sit next to her but she held up a hand to stop him. He paused at an awkward angle, halfway between standing leaning down to sit next to her. She stood up, standing in front of him with her hands fidgeting before her. He had never seen her look so…nervous.

“Shepard,” he repeated, for the third time, his voice soft. Confused. “Talk to me.”

“I…I have something to tell you and I don’t…want to.”

Well this was new. Shepard wasn’t afraid of anything, least of that being talking.

Thoroughly confused, he asked, “Ok?”

Shepard stared up at him and pulled her lower lip into her mouth, biting it. He’d seen her do that before, in a very different circumstance. Here it was just further proof that she was worrying. Panicking. “You are starting to freak me out a little bit here, Shepard.”

Shepard released her lip with a POP and raised a hand, running it through her fringe - er, hair. Judging by how it was sticking up she had been doing that for awhile.

“Are you hur-” he started, reaching out a hand to touch her face.

“Kaiden came by. A little bit ago.” Garrus’ hand froze. He didn’t know why, but the way she had said it…made him feel cold. He waited for her to continue, dropping his hand. Shepard’s green gaze followed it’s movement before she dropped her own hand from her hair. Her eye flicked between his for a moment before she let out a harsh breath, turning away from him to pace.

“He…said he wants to try again. After that bullshit he pulled I almost threw him out. But…he seemed…sincere. He kept bringing up Ilium and the SR1 and…uggh.”

Garrus remained silent, and frozen, where he had paused near the couch.

“I didn’t tell him yes. But I did…agree to a date. One date. We never got closure after…I died. Not really. And I wasn’t sure if we - you and I I mean - were still, I mean you’ve been back no the Normandy for a month and we haven’t even talked about…oh my god, I’m rambling. I never ramble.” Shepard stopped her pacing, turning to look at Garrus. “If you tell me not to go I won’t go.”

That pulled him out of stasis. “What? Why is that my decision?”

And it was an easy decision.

No.

Don’t go on a date with Kaiden spirits fucking forsaken Alenko. He had his shot, and he blew it. It was Garrus’ turn now. But what had he been doing with ‘his turn’? (and how pissed would Shepard be if she could read his thoughts right now). Movie nights, quips across the battle field, platonic if lingering touches as they hung out in the battery. She was right, he’d been back on board the Normandy for a month and he had nothing to show for it. He’d had a chance - a hundred chances - to bring up how he felt about her but he hadn’t. She’d always seemed so stressed, so harried. He hadn’t wanted to burden her, to pressure her. He’d let her take the lead on their reconnection. She’d been friendly, so he’d been friendly. And every two minutes there was some damn crisis - a dalatrass to bribe, a galaxy-changing medical marvel to facilitate. He’d wanted to be the calm at the center of her numerous storms. And now it sounded like she’d been waiting for him to-

“We were, you know, together recently. So I thought-”

“Seven months ago.” Garrus clarified, unsure why he was bringing up the time frame.

“Huh?”

“We were together seven months ago. And we thought we were going to die.” What was he talking about? Why was he saying this?

Why did he sound so cold?

His tone tripped Shepard up. She suddenly looked less frantic. She stopped wringing her hands, and was looking at him with an expression he could not even begin to interpret. “You’re right. We didn’t make any promises to each other. You aren’t…responsible for me, nor I you. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have asked you about this. I guess I just…wanted to make sure you and I are…good. If I do this - the date with Kaiden, I mean.”

Garrus needed to swing by the medbay - there was a pain in his gut that had to be from something physical - a bullet wound his medi-gel had somehow missed?

Tell her to not go out with him. Fucking idiot, tell her!

“We are good Shep. You go on that date - or not! Whatever…whatever you want. We are good.” Shep? Where the hell had that come from. “If that’s all, I got to go - guns to calibrate, you know-” Garrus began making his way back through the door. He paused at the doorway just as Shepard called.

“What were you…saying about a movie?”

“Uh, oh that? Nothing. I’ll tell you later. See you in the morning, Shepard.” And before he could say something embarrassing, or pitiful, he left.

As he made his way to the elevator he stumbled. He felt off-balance - like the artificial gravity had abruptly been turned off. What had just happened? What the hell had just happened? He felt a sick, heavy feeling rolling along his veins, originating from somewhere deep in his gut. As the doors slid open on the crew deck, Garrus had had the chance to examine the sensation coursing through his body, finally setting in his chest like a heavy weight.

Jealousy.

~~~fin, for now~~~

#mass effect fic #mass effect fanfiction #shakarian #shlenko #garrus vakarian #kaiden alenko #commander shepard #shepard x garrus #shepard x kaidan #femshep x garrus #garrus x shepard #garrus my beloved #kaiden my beloved #trying something #mass effect

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xentari94 · 16 days

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I don’t usually read much from Screen Rant but- that whole article on how Tech could very well be 100% alive as cx2 just boosted my fucking morale so much. Like- I know it’s stuff that’s already been gone over but still… no matter how many times I’ve heard it, hearing it again is what keeps me hopeful.

Tech, sweetheart, come back beautiful we need you 😭🧡🙏🏻

I know it’s gonna hurt like hell to see him so lost, and I don’t know if he’ll ever be able to get back to where he was pre fall, but I have faith he’ll be okay.

I honestly think now that this is what they meant when there had to be a consequence from going against Tarkin. It had nothing to do with Tarkin, and sacrifice doesn’t always have to signify death. Tech’s alive, but the possibility is high that he’s lost a part of himself. Along with this marking the end of his days as a soldier, the only thing he’s ever really known.

This isn’t a happily ever after. Happily ever after would be Tech recovers fully and as much as I hate to admit it, I don’t see that happening. I want it to happen, but realistically… I mean the show could take it either way. But this could be what is supposed to be the bitter-sweet ending. Everyone lives, but each has been individually changed, and not all positively as such in Tech’s case.

And that is why I too feel like it will be partly Omega who finds a way to help him because of what Tech once told her. It will be far from easy, and he’ll need all his family, but as a whole they find a way to adapt like they always have.

I don’t think they will return to Pabu, not because they wouldn’t be welcomed back, I believe even Tech would be even after what’s happened if Shep were ever to find out it was him as cx2. I don’t think Shep would blame him for something that Tech did not want.

They wouldn’t want to put Pabu on the radar again. So that steady life Hunter wants for Omega might not be reachable with who they are, always having to remain on the run, but that’s okay. As long as they have each other, Phee as well because I see them all grouping after this, then the future isn’t bleak. There’s promise. Hope.

#the bad batch #tbb #tbb tech #tech lives #tbb cx 2 #my hopes are eternal #I do not know the meaning of the words ‘giving up’#tech is alive #I feel it 🧡🧡#and I’m standing on the no one’s going to die hill #they’ve all been affected in some way none of them got away unscathed they don’t have to die to prove a plot point

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electrikworm · 19 days

Text

We'll find her

In the immediate aftermath of Omega giving herself up to the Empire, Hunter confronts Crosshair.

Content warning: Nothing I can think of

We probably won't get to see any of this in the show, so I wanted to write something short.

Read on Ao3

Dread claws it's way deep into Hunter's chest as he climbs the numerous steps leading to Shep's house two at a time. Something feels horribly wrong. Hunter's suspicions are only further confirmed by the Empire's ships leaving.

They wouldn't go if they hadn't gotten what they wanted.

Hunter can't seem to run fast enough, heart beating against his ribs like it wants to break them. Batcher sprints along side him, looking blissfully unaware of the gravity of the situation.

Lungs burning, Hunter opens the door to their friends house. He knows Omega won't be inside, can't stop the way his blood runs cold as he scans the room and doesn't spot her.

Lyana's knelt on the floor next to Wrecker, who's laying on the couch, still out cold. AZI-3's hovering nearby.

“Where's Omega?” Hunter burst out, panic lacing his words.

Lyana looks at him, fear and worry twisting her expression. The look says more than anything she or the medical droid could say.

“Hunter.” A voice, Crosshair's voice, says from behind him. Hunter snaps around, futile hope once again dashed as he spots his brother standing alone. Hunter can't help the annoyance he feels. He steps out through the door, closing it behind him. What ever discussion he's about to have with Crosshair isn't one Hunter wants to have in front of Lyana. He won't risk scaring her more.

“Where is she Crosshair?”Hunter hisses, voice low. Crosshair just stands there, helmet hanging loosely in his hand, vacant look in his eyes. “What happened?”

“Omega...” Crosshair forces out.

“Where is she?” Hunter snaps, shoving Crosshair for emphasis. Batcher immediately pushes herself between the brothers as Crosshair staggers backwards a few steps.

The sniper takes a shaky breath, Hunter can hear the way he swallows dryly from a good meter away. “Plan 99.”

The tears that had steadily been building in Hunter's eyes spill across his cheeks. “Why didn't you stop her?” He yells, pushing past the lurca hound to grab his brother's shoulders. “You were supposed to keep her hidden! Safe!”

Crosshair's eyes narrow. “She wouldn't listen to reason!”

“You should have tried harder.”

Crosshair shoves Hunter off, glaring. “Don't touch me.” He hisses, voice breaking.

“You let them take her!” Hunter steps forward, not fully sure what he intends to do, only knowing that the fear and anger building in his chest is letting itself be known one way or another. Batcher brushes against his legs again, whining softly.

Crosshair flinches, air catching in his throat. “I didn't!”

“They're taking Omega back there, back to Tantiss,” Hunter snaps, “because you let her sacrifice herself!”

This time, Crosshair's the one to push Hunter. “I didn't just let them take her! There was a plan...” His voice falters and gives out as he talks. Hunter clenches his fists.

“What plan could ever justify Omega giving herself up?” Crosshair looks pained at Hunter's words. “There's no telling what they'll do to her this time!”

Hunter steps forward again, Crosshair looking like he might do the same as well. From years of living with his vode, Hunter can tell things are about to get ugly. Batcher seems to be able to tell too, barking a couple times at both of them.

The door to the Hazard house sliding open with a hiss makes them both stop dead in their tracks, heads turning to look at it. Hunter expects to see Lyana poking her head out, no doubt disturbed by the argument outside.

Instead, it's Wrecker in the doorway. He looks like he's just barely managing to stay upright, eyes half lidded, pupils flicking erratically between his brothers.

“Th- The... Marauder.” Wrecker slurs, gesturing vaguely in what he must believe is the ship's direction. His expression is pinched with pain, his breathing laboured. Every word seems to take enormous effort to force out. “Under attack.”

As their vod steps forward weakly, both Hunter and Crosshair rush to try and steady him. He's already fallen to his knees when they get to him, but they stop Wrecker from hitting his head on the floor. Wrecker's body is almost limp against them holding him up by his shoulders, crouched closely next to him.

“Calm down.” Crosshair has the same concerned tone to his voice Hunter has hear him use countless times as they grew up.

“Wha- Wha's happ'ning?” Wrecker's voice falters more with every word, his breathing becoming barely more than gasps. “Omega?” His eyes are suddenly wide open as he frantically looks about, starts trying to get up.

“Wrecker, no.” Hunter tries, emotions painfully obvious in his voice. He and Crosshair have to fight to keep a grip on their brother, stop him from hurting himself. The weak way Wrecker pulls against them holding him is concerning. He doesn't seem to hear them, Wrecker's own word becoming progressively panicked and unintelligible.

As Wrecker takes a particularly unsteady breath, his head suddenly drops forwards and he goes completely still. The world goes almost silent, if Hunter couldn't hear his brother's hearts beating hard and fast. Crosshair mutters quiet encouragements as he checks their largest brothers pulse, like he's trying to keep Wrecker from dying through telling him not to. Hunter should just tell him that he can still hear Wrecker's heart, but the words die on his tongue.

“I tried to make it clear to him that standing up in his state would do him more harm than good.” AZI-3 states, hovering his way out of the house followed closely by Lyana. The girl's eyes are wide, terrified.

Crosshair glares at the droid as he starts lifting Wrecker's arm to sling it across his shoulder. Hunter wordlessly helps him, their combined effort getting Wrecker back onto the couch with relative ease.

The twisted ball of anger in Hunter's chest fully transforms to worry as he watches Crosshair adjust Wrecker's motionless form on the piece of furniture barely big enough to accommodate him. Batcher bumps her snout into Wrecker's limp hand, making small, sad noises as she fails to get any response from the large clone.

“His vitals remain stable.” AZI-3 informs them. At Crosshair's request, the medical droid also fills them in on the damage Wrecker sustained. Burns, broken ribs and some embedded shrapnel. Lyana shudders as AZI explains how he removed pieces of the Marauder from Wrecker's skin.

“I'm glad I didn't have to watch that.” She mumbles under her breath.

According to AZI-3, Wrecker's burns could have been a lot worse if he hadn't landed in water. It's a small mercy, but Hunter will take anything at this point.

Hunter sits on the floor near Wrecker's legs, hit by a sudden wave of exhaustion. “The plan, what was it?” Hunter asks, turning to look at his kih'vod. Crosshair cringes at Hunter's question, looking pained by the thought.

“I was supposed to tag the ship taking Omega.” Hunter already knows what Crosshair's going to say next. “I missed.” Crosshair's voice cracks and he closes his eyes, tears threatening to fall across his cheeks.

Of course Omega would suggest something so risky, with such a high chance of going wrong. Hunter wants to be angry at Crosshair, his betrayal still fresh even if they've started to work through it. He can't truly find it in himself to hold this against his kih'vod.

It's been bothering Omega more and more. She blames herself for so much, despite every attempt they've made to assure her she's not at fault. The truth is, nobody could have stopped Omega, even if the thought sickens Hunter.

“I know what you're thinking.” Crosshair says, focusing on their unconscious brother rather than looking at Hunter. He's got a hand placed carefully on Wrecker's shoulder. With the other, he occasionally checks his brother's pulls or if he's still breathing. “If you're going to accuse me of missing the shot on purpose, or still working with the Empire, just get it over with.” A tear drops from Crosshair's face onto Wrecker's chest plate.

Hunter's chest hurts at his little brother's defeated tone. “We're going to find her, Cross. We won't stop until we've got her back.”

Disturbing batcher from her spot at Wrecker's side, Hunter moves closer to Crosshair, putting his hand on his brothers arm. Surprise crosses the sniper's expression, but morphs to something closer to determination.

“We'll find her.” Hunter repeats. “Together.”

#tbb #tbb crosshair #tbb hunter #tbb wrecker #tbb season 3 #tbb spoilers #the bad batch #my writing #nobody's having a good time #I had a good time writing out their mental anguish though #I am not prepared for ep 12

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lifblogs · 19 days

Note

We need Hunter getting mad at Crosshair for going along with Omega's plan. I beg of you.

Beg, and it shall be delivered! Look, I needed this so badly too, istg. Word Count: 870 READ ON AO3

The Empire was leaving Pabu, troopers going back to their gunships, the gunships returning to the attack cruiser.

That could only mean one thing.

Hunter’s heart leapt into his throat as he looked skyward, and he couldn’t breathe.

No, no…

Putting his helmet on, he and Batcher ran towards the village and their spiraling steps. He’d seen lights up there a moment ago, fighting. Was Crosshair okay?

Maybe everything’s fine.

In his gut he knew he was wrong.

Even though Hunter ran as fast as he could it was as if his body couldn’t move fast enough. He was in one of those nightmares where no matter how hard you tried to move, you barely could, and the pain descended upon you. Batcher raced beside him as if she knew that something was wrong, too.

Too much time passed between his crawl onto the beach and his ascent to Shep’s home.

Hunter wanted to lean against the door as he took his helmet off and caught his breath, the muscles in his legs and core burning. Batcher ran in, and nudged Wrecker, who was thankfully awake now.

Crosshair leaned against the wall, head down, body tense.

Omega was nowhere in sight.

Hunter refrained from grabbing Crosshair as he demanded, “Where’s Omega? What happened?”

Crosshair clenched his jaw, lips pulled into a thin line. It was impossible to not notice that his right hand was trembling.

Wrecker lifted his head, tears in his eyes, to tell Hunter, “She’s—she’s gone.”

Hunter’s helmet fell from his grasp, clattering against the floor.

His heart that had climbed into his throat seemed to drop into his feet, and he nearly collapsed. His world was spinning. He couldn’t breathe, didn’t even know what air was, what his lungs were for.

Batcher held him up by leaning her weight against his legs, and Crosshair had reached out a hand to grab him.

He met the sniper’s eyes, vision blurry, nose already stuffing up.

“Crosshair—“

“She decided to sacrifice herself, to be taken to save us. To save Pabu.”

If this were any other situation Hunter would be so proud of her. But this wasn’t any other situation.

The Empire had his daughter.

A tear fell and anger crowded his vision.

He shoved Crosshair, who didn’t even put up a fight. “You were supposed to protect her!” He shoved him again, Crosshair colliding with the wall, and before he knew what he was doing he threw a punch.

The pressure of his knuckles against Crosshair’s face hadn’t felt good enough, not as his vision seemed to go red, his heart pumping hard, blood rushing in his ears.

“You’re a traitor!” he cried. “You’re a filthy, stinkin’ traitor!”

Hunter tried to punch him again, and his fist was stopped by Wrecker.

“Whoa, whoa, whoa, calm down.”

Hunter struggled to get his fist out of his grip.

“Calm down? You want me to calm down while Omega is currently sitting in an Imperial ship heading to Tantiss?”

“It was her decision,” Wrecker argued. “I don’t like it either, but we have to respect that decision.”

Hunter was so tired, more tired than he should be. He knew Wrecker spoke sense, yet his hurt wanted to explode, to leave his body with violence.

Yet, the longer he stood there, panting, seeing the pain on their faces, the guilt on Crosshair’s, he knew they were right.

He stumbled back as Wrecker released his fist, having sensed the fight leaving him.

Hunter fell to his knees, Batcher letting out a sound between a moan and a whine as she nuzzled his face. Lost, Hunter wrapped an arm around her, and hid his face against her hide.

“Is there any way we can track her?” he asked, after a long moment of crushing silence.

Crosshair let out a hiss through his teeth, like he was truly in deep pain. “We tried. Omega’s comm was taken, and I… tried firing a tracker on the ship.” Hunter winced, bracing himself for what came next. “I missed.”

He bit his bottom lip, body tensing and shaking, trying to hold in his pain.

This wasn’t Crosshair’s fault.

“I’m sorry, Cross,” he murmured, eventually raising his head to try and meet his eyes. “I let my anger get the better of me. You’re my brother, and… I know how much you care for Omega.”

He just gave him a nod. A nod from Crosshair was the equivalent of forgiveness.

Hunter felt the pain inside condense into a tight, dense, black ball in his chest. It sent lightning shooting out from it, but now it was in check. His anger had a real target, a purpose.

This was the Empire’s fault.

They had chosen to do this to Omega. Crosshair wasn’t to blame. Omega wasn’t to blame.

He rose, against all odds, the pain condensing even more till it was like a star that sucked in everything around it. But it left him whole enough to lead.

He put a hand on Crosshair’s shoulder, the other reaching up to Wrecker’s. Frantic determination ran through him, and as he met their gazes he saw their resolve (even with Crosshair’s trembling hand).

“We’re going to get her back. We’ll bring her home.”

#star wars #the bad batch #the bad batch spoilers #the bad batch fanfiction #tbb #tbb spoilers #tbb fanfiction #angst #fanfiction #writing #my writing #ask #evilwriter37 #3x12 fix-it fic #fix-it fic

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sinfulsalutations · 1 year

Text

𝕒 𝕨𝕒𝕣𝕞 𝕙𝕠𝕣𝕚𝕫𝕠𝕟 (𝕚𝕟 𝕪𝕠𝕦𝕣 𝕒𝕣𝕞𝕤) ⋆*･ﾟ 𝕔𝕝𝕠𝕟𝕖 𝕥𝕣𝕠𝕠𝕡𝕖𝕣 𝕨𝕣𝕖𝕔𝕜𝕖𝕣

➼ ᴘᴀɪʀɪɴɢ ☆ ᴡʀᴇᴄᴋᴇʀ x ꜰ!ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ

➼ ꜱᴜᴍᴍᴀʀʏ ☆ ᴅᴇꜱᴘɪᴛᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ʜᴇᴀᴅ ᴏᴠᴇʀ ʜᴇᴇʟꜱ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴠɪʟʟᴀɢᴇ ꜰʀᴜɪᴛ ꜱᴇʟʟᴇʀ ᴏɴ ᴘᴀʙᴜ, ᴡʀᴇᴄᴋᴇʀ ʜᴀꜱɴ'ᴛ ʜᴀᴅ ᴛʜᴇ ᴄᴏᴜʀᴀɢᴇ ᴛᴏ ꜱᴛᴇᴘ ᴏᴜᴛ ᴏꜰ ʜɪꜱ ᴄᴏᴍꜰᴏʀᴛ ᴢᴏɴᴇ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ʟɪᴛᴛʟᴇ ᴀɴᴅ ᴀꜱᴋ ʜᴇʀ ᴏᴜᴛ. ʟᴜᴄᴋɪʟʏ, ʜᴇʀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘᴇꜱᴋʏ ɪɴᴛᴇʀᴠᴇɴᴇʀ ᴘʜᴇᴇ ɪꜱɴ'ᴛ ɢᴏɪɴɢ ᴛᴏ ʟᴇᴛ ᴛʜᴀᴛ ꜱʟɪᴅᴇ.

➼ ᴄᴏɴᴛᴇɴᴛ ☆ ᴛᴏᴏᴛʜ-ʀᴏᴛᴛɪɴɢ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰ, ᴍᴜᴛᴜᴀʟ ᴘɪɴɪɴɢ, ɪᴅɪᴏᴛꜱ ɪɴ ʟᴏᴠᴇ, ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴀ ʟᴏᴛ ᴏꜰ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰʏ, ᴄᴜᴛᴇ ᴛʀᴀꜱʜ, ꜰɪʀꜱᴛ ᴋɪꜱꜱ, ᴡʀᴇᴄᴋᴇʀ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ꜰʟᴜꜱᴛᴇʀᴇᴅ ᴀɴᴅ ᴘʜᴇᴇ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴀ ᴘᴇꜱᴋʏ ᴍᴇᴅᴅʟᴇʀ

➼ ᴡᴏʀᴅ ᴄᴏᴜɴᴛ ☆ 8.3ᴋ

➼ ᴘᴏᴠ ☆ ᴛʜɪʀᴅ ᴘᴇʀꜱᴏɴ

➼ ꜱᴏᴜɴᴅᴛʀᴀᴄᴋ ☆ ꜱᴜɴꜱᴇᴛ - ᴄᴀʀᴏʟɪɴᴇ ᴘᴏʟᴀᴄʜᴇᴋ, ɢʟᴜᴇ ꜱᴏɴɢ - ʙᴇᴀʙᴀᴅᴏᴏʙᴇᴇ, ʙᴀᴅ ʜᴀʙɪᴛ - ꜱᴛᴇᴠᴇ ʟᴀᴄʏ

⋆ ★ ᴡᴏᴏᴏʜ, ɪ ꜰɪɴɪꜱʜᴇᴅ ɪᴛ! ᴛʙʜ ɪ ᴡᴀɴᴛᴇᴅ ᴛᴏ ᴘᴜᴍᴘ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏᴜᴛ ɪɴ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴀ ᴅᴀʏ ᴏʀ ᴛᴡᴏ ʙᴜᴛ ɪ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴋᴇᴘᴛ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ᴇᴅɪᴛɪɴɢ ᴀɴᴅ ɪᴛ ᴇɴᴅᴇᴅ ᴜᴘ ʙᴇɪɴɢ ᴡᴀʏʏʏʏ ʟᴏɴɢᴇʀ ᴛʜᴀɴ ɪ ᴛʜᴏᴜɢʜᴛ ɪᴛ ᴡᴀꜱ ɢᴏɴɴᴀ ʙᴇ… ʙᴜᴛ ɪᴛꜱ ᴏᴋᴀʏ, ᴛʜᴀᴛ'ꜱ ᴀ ɢᴏᴏᴅ ᴛʜɪɴɢ ɪ ᴛʜɪɴᴋ! ɪᴅᴋ, ɪ ʀᴇᴀʟʟʏ ʟɪᴋᴇ ᴛʜɪꜱ ᴏɴᴇ, ɪᴛꜱ ᴊᴜꜱᴛ ᴘᴜʀᴇ ꜰʟᴜꜰꜰʏ ɢᴏᴏᴅɴᴇꜱꜱ ᴡɪᴛʜ ᴍʏ ᴄᴜʀʀᴇɴᴛ ʙᴀᴅ ʙᴀᴛᴄʜ ʙᴏʏꜰʀɪᴇɴᴅ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴏɴᴛʜ ᴡᴇᴇᴋ ᴅᴀʏ ʜᴏᴜʀ. ɪ ʜᴏᴘᴇ ʏᴏᴜ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏ ʀᴇᴀᴅɪɴɢ ɪᴛ ᴀꜱ ᴍᴜᴄʜ ᴀꜱ ɪ ᴅɪᴅ ᴡʀɪᴛɪɴɢ ɪᴛ

⋆ ★ ʀᴇᴀᴅ ᴏɴ ᴀᴏ3 ⋆*･ﾟ ᴛᴀɢʟɪꜱᴛ ꜰᴏʀᴍ

When the warm glow of the late afternoon sun is peaking through translucent windows, the thought crosses his mind again. It isn't one that's new, not in the slightest, but it still disrupts Wrecker's normal thought of thinking every time. It being, how pretty she looks under the orange sunset.

And before he can gain real sense, and stop himself from doing something crass (see: actually going down to visit her), that primal thought inside of him overtakes any higher critical executive functioning. She might just be his fatal flaw.

“I think I'm gonna, uh, go down to the village,” Wrecker croaks, only half believable, pushing his large frame up from where he reclined on a large chair Shep had provided just for him.

"Are ya' sure?" Wrecker asked the mayor when he'd brought it down from his house, his large hands finding themselves at the top of the chair head. Kriff, it was soft.

"Of course!" Shep insisted with a warm smile. "I want to make sure you boys feel at home. Comfortable too."

The sweet town leader was kind enough to provide Wrecker and his siblings their own quarters; their relief mission on Pabu had stretched far longer than what they expected, due to the damage the tidal wave had inflicted on a large part of their island; but despite the batch’s tendency to never linger for too long in one place, none of them minded.

Hunter especially needed the break from the constant running from the relentless Imperials and bounty hunters, and he enjoys watching Omega make friends with the locals and finally flourish and socialize like she was supposed to at her age.

Tech had also enjoyed taking initiative in the beginning, creating plans and tasks and lists upon lists of things to do to help restore Pabu to its original form ('perhaps even better with my expertise' he boasted once). And over a few weeks or so, he even stopped acting like Phee’s advances were discomforting, though everyone already knew how he felt.

And Wrecker on the other hand... well, he didn't hate it there. Not at all. The food was fantastic and the views never got old, no matter how many times he watched the sun peak over the water. But something, someone else from Pabu had found a permanent spot in him. So perhaps if they were to leave, he'd find himself more attached to the place.

“Why?” Tech asks before Wrecker can turn the knob and push the door open. He turns his head to his brother, whose legs curl up to his chest with his data pad resting on top of his knees. “We’ve already completed the required tasks for us today. And we don’t require any groceries.”

Wrecker's lips seal shut and he stammers out the next words, his hand coming to fiddle with the hem of his pockets.

“I, uh, felt like going on a walk,” He lied, gesturing with his hands to the outside. “It’s really nice out, you know?”

Tech squints, interrogating his brother with his eyes. Wrecker hisses in a breath, but Tech fixes his goggles and shrugs before his brother had to make up some excuse.

“I suppose,” He says, looking back down at his data pad. “Enjoy your walk.”

“Thanks, vod,” Wrecker says quickly before he exited the claustrophobic conversation and out into the open, salty air. When the sun hits his face, tingling his senses and heating the stretch of his skin that wasn't covered in the cloth of his civvie clothes, he closes his eyes ever so slightly, basking in the sun like a kitten in a sunbeam, before looking down. Their temporary home lay just beside where Shep and Lyana reside and had a path that led to almost anywhere on Pabu. It was easy to get lost, and Wrecker certainly did, even after spending lots of time there, but he’d managed to memorize a few routes; most notably, the route to the heart of the village and market.

No one pays too much attention to him as he walks through the village; it's quite a new phenomenon. His dwarfing stature, striking scars that covered most of his face, and cybernetic eye always caught the eyes of passing civilians. But now, as his brothers stayed longer and helped restore the place to its original beauty, they’ve become somewhat locals; admired, even.

The kids especially adored Wrecker. Hoards at a time watch with awe as he carries heavy loads around like they weigh less than a baby tooka, and ask him questions upon questions about his ‘funny-looking’ appearance and unique abilities.

"Wow... he's like a bantha!"

"You think you could teach us how to do that?"

Omega’s friends always ask for him to join them if they're to go out and snag some local desserts from the bakery, and of course, he couldn’t refuse; if there were two passions he held, it would be children and food.

“Wrecker!”

Well, maybe he had three passions.

He whips around in the direction the sweet, hummingbird-like voice came from, and sees her only a few feet away, smiling wide. Her hair, tied back as slick as possible, still had a few stands slipping out and framing her face in a way that was so enticing. With her stained orange apron untied and loosely hanging over her body, it was hard to see most of her, but he could imagine what he might see if it were tied. The pinch of her waist, the soft curve of her hips, everything that made him so shamelessly floored every time she was around.

Before it could be too creepy, his eyes moved away, looking at the three crates she carried; one she had perfectly balanced on her head, and the other two she pinned to the sides of her waist, gripping the bottom of them like a lifeline; one slip up, and it would all crash down.

Wrecker raises an eyebrow at the sight, chucking lightheartedly and without any malice laced in.

“How are you doing?” She asks, eyes wide. Wrecker frowns.

“...Good,” He said, still looking at her. “Why are you carrying so many crates?”

She blinks, and her mouth falls open ever so slightly, gazing up at the crate being expertly balanced on her head.

“Oh!” She begins loudly, looking back at him with the same smile that melts his heart. “I got new shipments this afternoon, so I’ve been bringing them in all day.”

He gawks, but she doesn't blink.

“Without any help?” He asks urgently when he realizes she's being serious, upset at the image of her carrying all these shipments in by hand without asking for any assistance from anyone, from him especially.

Her eyebrows droop, eyes still wide as she pouts.

“Well, I, I didn’t know if you’d want to help, and I thought you might be busy, so…”

The mere suggestion of that baffles him more than he leads on.

“Oh, that’s karking nonsense, peach,” He says, slipping in a nickname for the extra measure as he takes two crates off of her and stacks them on top of each other before holding them firmly to his stomach. “I’ll always be able to help you out.”

The gesture makes her smile, the corners of her eyes crinkling with delight as she moves to stand beside him.

"I'm glad," She says softly, just for the two of them to hear. "Thanks, Wrecker."

Wrecker's cheeks dust a light pink, and he looks away for a moment to try and let his face cool down again.

"No problem," He says, coughing slightly to cut through the silence until he'd be able to speak fully correctly again. “You’ve been doing this by yourself all day ?” he reiterates her words, still upset at her audacity to do such a thing to herself. The poor girl! His mind screams.

She bites her lip, drifting away from their little bubble and off to the view they got from the road, of the striking sunset hitting the water just perfectly.

“Well, yeah,” She says, not hiding anything. “It isn’t that hard.”

“A girl like yourself shouldn’t have to do all this work on her own.” She stops abruptly and he turns, freaking out when he sees her gawked expression and the hand on her hip. He quickly stammers out an explanation, or at least attempts to. “I mean, like, I was made for this work. Literally.” He gestures to his physique, eliciting a chuckle from the back of her throat. “And you must be so tired, right? After all this.”

She frowns and shrugs rather dismissively.

“If it makes you feel any better, this is the last three crates,” She explains, starting to walk again. Wrecker follows devotedly. “And I’ll be sure to let you know if I ever need help again.”

“I’m always around,” He comments, and she grins appreciatively and bumps their shoulders together. Or more like her shoulder against his arm.

Wrecker would like to say that he didn’t remember how the two of them came to be as close (close? He wasn’t sure what to call it) as they were, but he couldn’t. He remembers every single detail of when they first met. Two weeks after the batch decided to stay for a little to help out. A loose goat had rampaged through the temporary campsites, and Wrecker had been chasing it for what felt like hours at that point.

"C'mere, little guy!" He had hollered, clambering after the skitterish little animal. "C'mon!"

But the goat tragically didn't speak Basic. It swerved and took a sharp turn into a tent headfirst, and quickly he followed, pulling in his whole body at once and jumping onto the goat. As he got his arms solidly wrapped around him did he hear a shrill shriek from someone else.

The goat had decided to hide in her tent. And the second he looked up into her frightened eyes and the way her chest rose and fell with every breath, every other thought flew out the window.

"Kriff, kriff, kriff!" He hissed under his breath. Without hesitation, he tossed the goat outside the tent and walked up to her, placing a firm, yet still trembling hand on her shoulder. "I am so sorry."

But she didn't look up. Instead, she crouched and picked up something that was on the floor, cradling small ends of trampled plants in her arms in distress.

"It's okay," She told him softly, looking up finally with a firm grin that didn't seem to reach her eyes. "Slip-ups happen. I can clean this all up."

Of course, he didn't just leave her to clean up the mess all by herself. He insisted with an awkward rub of his shoulder and an expression of guilt, and she sighed with a grin and shook her head.

"You don't have to."

But oh, he did. If Wrecker knew one thing for certain, was that he couldn't deny or simply ignore a pretty girl. Sure, he might clam up a little and trip over his tongue, but it's all in his nature. How couldn't he get choked up around someone so cute?

After that little incident, Wrecker found himself oh so conveniently passing by her temporary living quarters, just ‘checking in’ as he said to make sure fruits were all a-okay again.

She always gave him that sweet, welcoming smile that felt like a sunset was giving him a hug, and said they were doing perfect or would talk fondly about a new irrigation method she was trying out, and even offer a bite of one of her fruit. The first time he bit into one of the melons, he thought he was being sent to heaven by the taste, and the giddiness in her expression seeing his enjoyment.

And since that first bite, he’d been hooked. He tried every day to see her at least once, even if it was just useless small talk. Every day, he learned a little bit more about her and got a little more addicted to her sweetness; her parents had escaped occupation on their home planet and came to Pabu when she was barely able to read and passed away a little after that, so she took on their family business full-time since she was just about Omega’s age.

"I don't remember them much," She recalled once to him with a distant stare off behind Wrecker's figure. "Just my dad's smile and the fruits we used to grow together." A couple of fingers came down and grazed at the brush of some of them she had out. "I guess to me, they still live on in what I grow. They taught me everything I know, really."

She loved her plants like she would her own children; she enjoyed singing to herself and the crops as a form of encouragement. Wrecker might've laughed at that in another situation, but she was so genuine about it.

"It's also what my mom did. She used to sing the same lullabies to me and our plants."

And when her home and all of her plants and crops were demolished after the tidal wave, she took it with such stride. Wrecker had watched his own home being destroyed, and despite the personal hell it gave him, he still had trouble finding his footing at night. He wanted to curl up next to Omega and hold onto Lula tight again just like he once did, become a child again. But she? Wrecker watched her find new pathing without any hesitation or visible grief.

"It's a new beginning for me. A way to become my own person, not just a new version of my parents."

He made it his personal goal to assist in the reconstruction of her home. He picked up little things she wished for in this new, dream home; plenty of sunlight, but also close to the hustle and bustle of the town so she didn't have to walk far to sell her goods, a large yard for all of her plants and plenty of storage. He subtly implemented all of it, practically begged Tech to help rebuild the houses in her area 'just because' and silently confirm everything she'd passively mentioned to him was there. It was lots of extra work, but the look on her face was so worth it.

Yet, his throat goes as dry as Tattooine and his mind turns into jumbles of incoherent thoughts at the mere prospect of asking her out. There's no way, he thought, that it was possible; wearing one's heart on their sleeve was easier when one didn't have to worry about the other possibly not reciprocating those feelings.

What Wrecker has with her is good; it's almost perfect. He still gets to envelop her in rib-squeezing bear hugs and call her sweet little nicknames. He can do almost everything he wants to with her. Little barriers prevent him from pushing a little further, doing what he really wants to do: hold her face with two palms and kiss her silly.

But y'know what? Maybe one day. Maybe if Wrecker got the courage to and swallowed down all the fears of rejection. Maybe if she didn't seem too delicate for his rough, boyish nature. Maybe, maybe, maybe...

Her groan echoes between the walls of her home as she lugs the final crate onto the counter, sighing and leaning back exasperated once she does. Wrecker places the crates next to the one she dropped and leans beside her, watching her intently as she rubs tenderly at her limbs.

“You’re tense,” He comments, half under his breath. He's not sure if he meant to say it out loud. But she looks up into his eyes anyway with a cheeky smile she's seemed to perfect.

“Really?” She retorts sharply, but not rude or sinister like Crosshair always talked. She's always been a little more sarcastic than Wrecker, but it never felt like a personal attack or a jab at his intelligence. She doesn't just talk all wit and no empathy; she's soft and open in a way his brother wasn't.

“Well, yeah,” He backs off a little as he talks and rubs the back of his neck with coarse fingers. “I mean, you’ve been working so hard lately. Shouldn’t you, uh, take a day off?”

When he looks back, he realizes that her eyes never left his once even as his own drifted away sparsely. His heart skips like a little kid again.

"There's no such thing as a day off for me, Wreck,” She says, laughing quietly between her cheeks as she turns away just for a moment, before continuing. "Gotta keep business going." She looks back at him, eyes sparkling despite the bags that weighed underneath. “But enough about me, how are you, Wrecker?”

He only continues gazing, and she giggles at the sight.

“How’s your day been?” She repeats, articulating the words. Wrecker blinks and his eyebrows raise, acting as though he was just confused and definitely not fawning over how cute she looks.

“Oh, it's been good,” he says, trying to get comfortable with his lower body pressed against the hard cool tile of her kitchen counters. “`Was just uh, doing some heavy lifting for Shep.”

She hums, leaning in again; her breath fans over the bare skin of his arm, and he almost hisses in his next breath out of instinct. But instead, he's able to reduce it to just a shaky inhale.

“I can’t imagine,” She says, shaking her head at the thought. “You must be aching all the time.”

“Eh,” Wrecker bargains, at last trying his best to look at her again without falling apart like putty under her starry eyes. “Whenever I’m tensed up, from like a workout or a hard job, I'll knead at them. My brother made me this massage machine to help with parts I can’t reach.”

“Oh…” She awes, but her speaking ends there. His neck stiffens and he breaks the eye contact, gluing his eyes to the floor with a hard gulp as he gains his bearings.

“I could, uh, do them for you,” He continues, unsure of where he was going with the conversation. She tilts her head, and he makes a mental note to punch himself in the face when he gets home.

Why would you say that?! His mind screams, but he only keeps talking.

“Those massages. I can, uh... help loosen up your muscles, I mean.”

She blinks and her lips tug up.

“You could?”

“F’course,” He responds a little too quickly. “I always sleep better once I do it. And it’s getting late.” He adds in the last sentence to help justify his reasoning. But even as he finishes, his entire offer feels strangely fake. Like an excuse. At least to his very self-perceptive mind.

But she only smiles with a newfound giddiness in her and drops her hands from where they rest and pushes herself off the counter.

“Thank you so much, Wreck,” She says, before grabbing his wrists to encourage him to move with her. With a small yelp and a pounding heart, he let her take the lead, guiding him toward the living area. Her hands could barely reach around and circle her wrist entirely, reminding him once again how much strength he had. The power he could easily assert over her if he was a different man and she wasn't careful.

Yet she holds him with such trust, such trust that he would always be gentle and caring with her. It makes a feeling that no one else had ever given him before rupture through him intensely. Something “You’re seriously the best.”

He can't help the smile that reaches his lips, but is able to conceal how red his face would've been if he had less control; instead, they dust a soft pink.

She guides him slowly to the couch, walking backward on her heels until her calves bump against the cushion; she allows herself to fall down and pats the spot next to her excitedly. He does without a second thought, but as she adjusts and turns her back to face him, he hesitates when his hands instinctively want to rest on her shoulders. Before they actually do, awaiting in the air like he were about to, he pulls them away.

Kriff.

Kriff, it hits him.

What is he doing?

He's sitting in the living room with the girl of his dreams, about to give her a massage while at her complete willingness, and he was just... about to do it? Headfirst? His eyebrows push together and he mutters to himself, so softly that she doesn't hear; this is far too sensual for the nature of their relationship. He won't be able to control himself, push down those carnal, intimate desires...

“Er, are you sure about this, peach?” he tries to reaffirm. The sudden change in his attitude makes her whip her head around back to him, resting her chin on her shoulder with a pensive look.

“Of course,” She says, completely unfazed. “What’s the matter?”

He shrugs as a filler, his eyes drifting away from her gaze; his hand comes to rub at his neck, again.

“I just, don’t wanna hurt you,” Wrecker confesses, a state of vulnerability that is new for him, yet he isn't so hesitant to admit it. At least to her. “I can be a little rough sometimes, and you’re just so much smaller than me…”

He wants to continue and list more reasons why maybe this was a bad idea, but he loses his own voice in the clamoring of all the different thoughts berating him as one final squeak comes out before he shuts his mouth. It only makes her grin sweetly.

“You’d never hurt me,” She assures him.

Even then, he raises an eyebrow.

"Are you absolutely sure?"

She nods.

"Yes."

He doesn't realize he's doing it until his hand comes up, but he holds out his pinky finger to her.

"You pinky promise?"

She giggles and leans forward, almost like she was going for a kiss, but barely lets the tips of their noses graze as she interlocks their pinkies together.

"I do."

Only then, when she turns to have her back face him again, he permits his hands to rest on her shoulders, and he deftly moves them to her pressure points, trying not to think about how soft her skin was under his rough, calloused fingers.

Kriff, kriff, kriff! His mind screams. If his thoughts had a verbal voice, their vocal cords would be sore by now. Everything in him screamed and singed with a burning panic inside of him, but not the one he normally had; this fluttery, exciting panic wasn't the same as the panic he had on life-risking missions.

A soft whine tumbles past her lips after the first few kneads, and she softens, leaning in closer to him.

“Is... Is that okay?” He asks, as gently as possible. Even now, when his hands are perfectly molding to the crook where her neck and shoulders met, he's prepared to pull back at any moment, at any stage of time when she seems just even a little uncomfortable or in pain.

“It’s so good,” She whines blissfully, her limbs turning into slush as the words come out. He stiffens, and he hopes that she doesn't notice and pull away. “How do you know how to do this so well?” She continues without an idea of his state.

He stammers, trying to form words but the only things his mind seems to be focusing on are her body, her voice, her everything that consumed him whole.

“Gotta keep this body a temple, you know?” He manages to grit out, slightly shaky in his voice. But he doesn’t let it falter, even as she lets out the softest hum of approval that could make him melt under the right conditions.

“You’re doing great at that” She laughs delicately at her own comment, and he chuckles roughly in his stomach, kneading at a particularly tight spot right above her collarbone, and the laugh is cut off by another satisfied sigh that barely makes it past her parted lips. “Maker, that feels great.”

Even then through his tight muscles, Wrecker manages to let himself relax a little; he's able to smile at the fact he was able to mitigate the tenseness in her body. She lets out another praise.

“Wreck, you’re a miracle worker.”

He smiles.

“Thanks, peach.”

“Peach? ”

Now, if everything from before hadn’t given Wrecker an absolute heart attack, this certainly would. And it does.

Because the voice questioning the nickname doesn't come from her. And it doesn't come from him. No, the voice belongs to the same, sarcastic yet charming tone that's almost unmistakable.

He whips his head around and takes his hands off of her shoulders, eyes blown wide and prepared to raise them up in surrender. A lean figure careens on the doorway of the entrance, letting the door stay ajar behind her as she got into a very obviously conjured position. She wears a surprised, open-mouthed smirk, far too dumb looking to actually be her real emotions.

“Phee?” Her voice breaks through Wrecker's trembling body, and he whips his head back to her; he's not sure what he initially thinks her expression will be, but the face she does have isn't what he expects. She's just as surprised, but not terrified. More relieved. No, no, less relieved. She's excited. Happy to see Phee, despite the compromising situation she's caught the two in.

She pushes herself up and eagerly walks over to an awaiting Phee.

“You didn’t tell me you were gonna come over. Or, frankly, knock .”

Phee chuckles, meeting her halfway in the middle before softly patting her shoulder, the shoulder Wrecker just had his hands knee-deep in massaging.

“You know me,” Phee laughs, calling her by her name for good measure. But before the two can get too chummy, Phee’s attention is drawn to Wrecker, who sits as stiff as a building, eyes glued to the space they met. He only moves to look at Phee directly, and she chuckles snidely out of the side of her mouth. “And apparently you know Muscles too?”

He manages to get out a stiff nod, his jaw going slack. He doesn't even realize that his mouth is slightly ajar until he sees her eyes drift down.

"I do know him," She says, slightly confused. She looks at Phee, then back at Wrecker, and gestures between the two of them. "Do you two... know each other?"

Wrecker is able to snap out of his slight trance ever-so-slightly, and blinks, stumbling over his next words.

"Yeah, yeah we do," He finally grits out. “And…” He brings a hand up to the two of them, who at some point had begun closing in on him like a vulture circling its prey. “...You two know each other?”

Phee lets out a pfft noise, waving a hand in the air.

“As long as I’ve been around here,” She says, making her friend laugh and promptly nod. “She’s one of my closest friends on Pabu.”

Wrecker’s mouth drops more, just a little (at least he hopes; it's hard to have full control over all his senses at this moment). Why didn’t he know this sooner? He should have; this whole time, Phee and he just managed to avoid each other even though they had the same friend. The same friend that he oh-so conveniently is pining over so helplessly.

Suddenly, the room becomes to get very hot. His civvie clothes begin to stick to his body, and he can feel the nervous trembles rumbling in him.

“Uh… cool, cool,” He croaks out like an animal half-paralyzed, standing up quickly and waddling over to the front door, almost ripping off the frame of the door as he gains his balance. The two whip around, perplexed.

“Where are you going?” She asks with a tilted head, so innocently, so concerned and worried that he's this close to turning and coming right back to her, into her arms. But he doesn't. He can't, knowing that Phee was there right behind him as well. So instead, he squeamishly lets out some excuse of, ‘I forgot, have something to do, gotta go uh, right now,’ before racing through the village and punching himself for his stupidity.

Wrecker avoids Phee like the plague for a significant amount of time after that fatal encounter. But their mutual fruit-selling friend, well, not so much. It was hard to keep himself away from her sweetness. But he still withdraws significantly, limiting his visits to her fruit stand and her house to less than thirty minutes long before he finds an excuse to leave, in fear that he’d, once again, run into a certain quippy friend of hers.

She’d even mentioned a few things about her after that day. How Phee and she have been best friends since they were little kids. That they met about a year after her parents passed.

“She took me on one of her little adventures once,” she recalled while the two watered her plants, dreamily gazing off into the distance as Wrecker practically foamed at the mouth awaiting her continuation. “Got chased by a pack of rabid animals even she didn't know the name of on some deserted planet. Never going with her again,” She laughed.

With all the new little details and memories he learns, he still doesn't find himself drawn away. He keeps coming to see her, getting enraptured by her everything again, and again, and again. He just walks on eggshells at every point now, because he was still unsure if Phee had gone blabbing to Tech about it all. That is most certainly not an ideal situation.

But he knows for sure one night at dinner. Shep had invited the batch for a nice evening meal, and of course, Wrecker couldn’t reject such an invitation. Stuffing himself until he reached heights of fullness he'd never had before is a pleasure he had only been able to indulge in with his phenomenal cooking skills. But stuffing his face full wasn't going to stop his eyes from wandering and accidentally making awkward eye contact. Phee, who decides to promptly sit right across from Wrecker, cheekily sneaks glances at him when Tech isn't talking her ear off, asking little questions with her eyes.

"It's quite fascinating the way this planet rotates on its axis..." Tech continues rambling on about whatever had piqued his personal interest right in Phee's ear. She nods, humming a quick 'mhm,' but she looks across at Wrecker.

How's your day? She asks. Or, at least, that's what Wrecker thinks she was asking him. There was no real way of translating what people communicated through the unspoken.

"The magnetic field is due to flip in less than a rotation..." Phee nods encouragingly.

Did you see Peach today?

Oh, how he wants to shut her mouth. Figuratively. Shut her... eyes?

But the two manage not to bring it up, verbally for the most part. At least until Omega and Lyana run off and leave the adults to eat in silence.

"Please please pleeeeaaase," Omega begs Hunter, fingers interlocked and shaking in front of her. Lyana does the same. "We ate all of our food! Look!" She gestures to their empty plates and looks back at Hunter. He hums thoughtfully, bringing a hand to his chin and he taps it once, twice, before dropping it again.

"Did you guys actually eat all of your food, and not give have of it to Wrecker?" He asks. Wrecker looks up from his plate, eyes wide and cheeks puffed out as he shakes his head aggressively. Hunter chuckles and looks at the two girls. "Alright, you can go play."

Omega and Lyana woop, excitedly taking each other's hands as they race away and off to explore, most likely. Wrecker looks over at them fondly, before he catches eye contact with Phee. He quickly averts his attention and gazes down at his food, stuffing a large handful in his mouth with his bare hands. He can still feel Phee’s eyes on him.

“So…” She begins, and his eyes snap back to Phee. Her eyes squint suspiciously, and he can see lingers of a sneaky little grin on her face before she continues. “How’s your little peach?”

Wrecker chokes. Like, no joke, chokes on his food, eyes popping in surprise and he abruptly shoots up from his chair. Hunter shoots up as well, quickly coming to his back and patting him.

"What in the-" He begins, but Wrecker interrupts as he coughs out a piece of the food he choked on, and Hunter quickly goes to press a fist to his stomach. With a push, all of it comes out, and Wrecker groans dryly, continuing to cough as everyone else around the table gathers around him in worry.

"Is everything all right?" Shep asks, a firm hand coming to rest on Wrecker's shoulder. He looks over to the mayor, getting out a smile with tears in his eyes.

"Just fine," He croaks. Tech hmphs, perplexed in the sudden shock Wrecker had, and proceeds to look at Phee.

"What did ask him?" He asks bluntly.

Phee puts on a faux expression of bewilderment and shrugs right in Wrecker's face.

“Hey, don’t look at me!” She says, before gesturing over at him. “You should be asking him.”

Hunter, who looms over Wrecker protectively, then leans into him, whose face is as red as a sith’s lightsaber.

“Wrecker, what was she talking about?” he asks, as soothing as he could be. Wrecker coughs out one final piece, his throat still dry, and he quickly grabs a glass of water and takes a large sip before he tries to talk.

“Er, well,” he begins, a droplet of water spilling over his lip and onto his shirt, which makes Tech grimace in disgust. “There’s this... girl, from the village. And she, uh... she sells fruits and sometimes lets me have some for free…”

“He calls her peach,” Phee adds, and Wrecker’s face heats up even more than it already was. He looks over to Tech, who watches with an amused expression on his face, and then to Hunter, who wears an unreadable expression.

“Wrecker has a girlfriend?” He says under his breath like he was hesitant to ask.

“And he’s kept it from us for this long?” Tech adds as if he's surprised that Wrecker was able to keep a secret, making Phee and Shep chuckle.

“No, no, it isn’t like that!” He exclaims, stumbling with his words incessantly. “We-We’re friends!”

Phee smirks, grabbing her glass and taking a long dramatic gulp before she shoots back.

“Friends that give massages to the other?”

Wrecker, once again, sputtered, and his brother's eyes widened.

“She- she was tense!" He tries to explain, furiously scrambling to gain control of this situation. "And-And I had told her I knew a couple methods, and she asked if I could do them for her so I did-I…”

“Yeah yeah, whatever Muscles,” Phee rolls her eyes, readjusting again. She places the cup down on the table firmly and leans forward, her entire body careening in his direction with self-assurance he wishes he had at that moment. “Point is, you’ve been sneaking off to hang out with her and haven’t told any of us,” Wrecker pouted, crossing his arms defensively over his chest. “And even worse, you’re obviously head over heels obsessed with her-"

Wrecker exclaims back, not even letting her finish her sentence.

"I'm not!"

"I saw the way you look at her," She says, putting a hand on her hip, accusing eyes scanning his body up and down. His mouth opens, and he tries to come up with a smart retort, but she had him backed into a corner. His mouth shuts, and she smirks in victory. "You look at her like she's the Maker themself, and you haven’t even had the guts to ask her out yet!”

Tech perks up, readjusting his goggles.

“So she’s not even your girlfriend?”

“Who has a girlfriend?”

Wrecker stiffens and they all turn to the piqued voice; Omega races toward the adults, Lyana close behind, watching the group of adults at the table. Her mouth is open in something of a wide grin, bewildered.

"Who has a girlfriend?" Lyana repeats.

“Not Wrecker,” Phee comments with a chuckle.

Omega turns to Wrecker eagerly, bouncing on her toes beside Lyana.

“Who is it? Who are you talking about?” she asks, a smile starting to creep up on her lips with excitement. “Do you know her, Phee?”

Phee nods, saying her name all smugly.

“She’s been my friend since I’ve been around Pabu,” she explains, looking at Shep for his approval. He nods along, a knowing, somewhat nostalgic look on his face. “She runs the fruit stand,” She adds, looking over at Lyana.

That makes her eyes light up. Wrecker can see the final puzzle piece click together in her mind.

“I know her!” She exclaims, jumping up and down and then looking back at Wrecker, who had essentially no control of this situation anymore. “I’ve seen you talking to her!” she points at him with a finger.

Phee huffs, crossing her arms.

“Guess I’m not the only one who’s seen this.”

“So…” Omega says, looking at Wrecker suspiciously. “You have a crush?”

Wrecker stammers, bringing a hand up to rub at his neck, avoiding the gaze of everyone else despite all of their eyes being on him.

“Ah, well, she’s, really pretty and all…” He manages to grit out, voice somewhat unsure. Too much of him is coming out at this moment. “But uh, I don’t really know how she feels.”

Now that comment makes Phee actually laugh.

“She definitely likes you.”

His cheeks flush.

“No, I don’t think she… I mean, she could do so much better, and I…” Suddenly, his mouth goes dry, and he’s at a loss for words.

Omega and Lyana giggle from the sidelines as Wrecker vehemently sputters random pieces of denial.

“Alright, listen here, muscles,” Phee interrupts him, leaning forward so far one slip and she'd fall chest first into the plate of food. “This is what you're going to do: Tomorrow, you’re gonna go up to her and ask her to join you at the equinox festival.”

Wrecker’s eyebrows push together and his mouth falls ajar.

“I-I am?”

Suddenly, a snicker interrupts all of them. Wrecker turns to his left and is baffled at the sight in front of him. Hunter is laughing, kriffing laughing into his palm, eyes scrunched and all amused at Wrecker's suffering here. But before he can fully process the sight, Phee continues.

“Yes, you are. And if you really need more support, we’ll come down with you.”

Omega gasps.

“Can we come?” She asks, grabbing Lyana’s hand and raising it. Lyana nods.

"Yes, yes!"

“No!” He exclaims back, quite defensively. He backs away from the table and raises his arm, puffing his chest out. “No no no! I can do it myself.”

“Oh?” Phee says with an eyebrow raised. “So you don’t need our help? You will ask her out tomorrow?”

Wrecker then realizes the situation he just put himself in. Now trapped in a situation, telling his whole family at once about her. He hoped for at least another week. Or a month. Or as long as it took for him to make a move because now, he has no choice but to ask her out. Unless he wanted Phee and her little crew of Omega and Lyana following him around like a hawk until he did. Slowly, his body detracts, and he slumps with a sigh, shrugging defeatedly.

Phee chuckled, grinning knowingly. Hunter, who at some point had sat down again beside Wrecker, sighs roughly and pat his brother's knee assuringly.

“You did kind of say that,” He defends Phee. Wrecker gawks.

“Come on!”

“So it’s decided!” Phee declares, grabbing Tech’s hand abruptly. Wrecker chuckles at the action; at least he doesn't have to be the only flustered person in the room. “I expect her to come to me to the news. And if she doesn’t. I’ll drag you there myself and make you do it.”

He panics.

Less panic, really. More meticulously plan. Which is very, very unlike him. The stems of the flowers he bought for her (these pink and white florae he couldn't remember the name of; he recalled her saying it was her favorite) weighed heavy in his palm, and he kept excessively checking it every few seconds, making sure that not one petal falls, not one leaf is out of place when he presents it to her.

But even after he picks the flowers and arranges them delicately with his large hands and fingers, it isn't enough.

"I should get her more..." He mutters to himself as he walks through the meadow, carefully treading through the forged dirt path, before he looks up and spots in the distance billowing smoke from an oven. His eyes brighten.

So, maybe buying her some pastries is a little much. He knows that perhaps, just maybe, ever-so-slightly, the detour was an excuse to put off going to her just a little longer. At the same time, a bite into the tart heart of the baked good does calm his nerves significantly.

Totally necessary, he thinks.

But eventually, Wrecker does go to her. He walks through the market with both the box of pastries and the flowers pressed to his back, stiffly weaving through throngs of townspeople. His eyes are hawks; he scans the crowd, looking for any indication of her presence; hunting, scavenging for the target of his objective.

But someone taps on his arm.

"Wrecker?"

He yelps and turns in the direction of her voice. She stands right beside him nonchalantly, head tilted and eyes scrunched. He almost drops what was in his arms and his legs go weak... kriff, how long has she been there?

Maybe Wrecker should leave the scouting to Crosshair.

She smiles, chin tilted up to look at him properly.

"Hey!" She says excitedly. "How's it going?"

He sputters, eyes drifting away quickly before looking back with a nod.

"It's good, good," He responds as delightfully as he could sound. She laughs.

"Are you sure?" She asks, persistent. He nods quickly.

"Of course!" Wrecker blurts. "Why wouldn't I be?"

She moves back a little, surprised.

"You're just... acting a little off," She remarks. He scoffs.

"Nah, this is normal," he insists, shifting his weight from one foot to another to appear casual. She raises an eyebrow, but a grin creeps up on her face as she walks backward toward her market stand, no regard for anyone else that might be walking where she might want to go, and motions for him to follow. He does, watches her every move, how nicely her body is hugged by the apron now as she turns around. He lets himself loosen up, and the box of pastries comes to his front. She gasps when they catch her eye.

"I love those!" She exclaims. His face warms up at the realization; he must've internalized her favorite pastry as well; he can't even remember off the top of his head. His hands hold it out to her, and she looks up with a tilted head. His heart stops for a second, and he frowns. Was something wrong?

"It's... for you," He stutters out, pushing it farther into her grasp. Her just manages to gain a little courage, a little faith in himself to look up, and oh Maker, she's... she has a hand on her chest. Her mouth falls open and she looks up at him with large, hopeful eyes, completely.

"It is?" She asks, quieter than before. Her hand drops and comes to grasp at a fruit she had in a basket to balance herself, slowly adjusting so her weight was supported by it.

Wrecker adjusts as well, still stammering as he continues talking,

"Well, yes, it is, and I uh..."

Unintentionally, his hand slips, and the other arm that still held the flowers fall and comes to his side. Her gaze drops to it, and he freezes.

"Uh... and..."

She looks back at him, her lips parted so delicately.

"Wrecker?" She says his name in that certain way that makes him melt. He winces, wishing he could wipe the sweat forming at the back of his neck.

"Y-yeah?" He responds shakily.

"Are those for me too?"

He really expected himself to stutter again. Stumble and trip and fall, bomb the whole thing and he'd have to become a hermit, hide in his room and never leave again after this catastrophe. But his voice doesn't shake as he takes in a breath and says,

"Yes."

Before he can process it, she moves from the back of the stand and to the front where he stood, reaching for the flowers first. His hands loosen when they come into contact with the tops of hers, softly grazing each other as she softly takes the bouquet from his sweaty hand and holds it to herself. Her eyes trail over the piece, softly bringing up another hand to lightly caress the petals of the flowers.

"These are my favorite..." she mumbles, mostly to herself, but Wrecker takes note of it.

"Yeah, I uh," He begins, and her head shoots up. He stiffens under her watchful eyes, but he keeps talking, his hand finally coming to knead at his tense neck. "I remember you talking about them once, so I went out and picked them out for you."

A sweet, adoring smile creeps up her face at the admission, and she tries to hide her face with her free hand, bashfully biting her lip.

Seeing her like this awakens something new in Wrecker. He's never seen her so... flustered before. Flattered. Scrambling at the pieces to gain her bearings and look presentable to him. It's too cute. Too adorable.

She wears it well, he thinks.

"That's... That's really sweet, Wrecker..."

He smiles, looking down as well.

"Thanks, I..." His mind wanders, and he's brought to the desires again. With her so close, so near to him and him being this close to having her, having her for real and not just in his dreams... his hands shook at the thought of getting to hold her in his arms. "Kriff," He rasps out.

"Hm?" She perks up. He looks up, and her head is tilted, eyebrows pushed together as she looks at him laced with anxiety. "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing," He affirms her quickly, taking a step forward, but quickly taking another back the second he realizes what he's doing. "Sorry, no, not sorry, I-" He groans, palming his face in frustration. His tongue is twirling all the wrong words, saying and doing everything wrong. But it keeps moving, faster than his mind. "I just... I really wanted to ask you to go to the festival with me, and I thought that I should bring you flowers or food, like a courting gift, or... something, kriff-" He swears again when he looks up and sees her confused, worried look on her face, and he goes to hide his face under his hand. "I'm sorry, this is so stupid, I should just-"

But he's unable to finish his sentence; a pair of trembling, soft lips press against his and interrupt all his thoughts; and Wrecker melts.

At first, he thinks he's dead. Because unless the Maker had for some reason given him the blessing of her unconditional love. But there's something so human in the lips that kiss him; an urgency, a raw excitement and worry in every move she made. Her hands clutch at his shoulders to bring him down as low as possible to meet her where she reached on her tiptoes, and kisses him hard. Kisses him firmly and thoroughly to make sure he stays put and doesn't kriffing let go, for any reason at all.

So Wrecker relaxes. He eases and leans down more to give her better access, and he drops the box of pastries to the floor, forgetting it completely as his arms wrap around her waist. He lifts her up in one swift motion and she squeals, but he swallows it with his own kiss; something so joyful and passionate yet cautious; something so Wrecker.

She pushes herself deeper into his body as if she was trying to melt into him, allowing his body, his everything envelops and takes her whole in the way hers did his so many times. And he takes it all. He takes all of it when she breaks away for a moment and he goes to nip at her bottom lip insistently. When she finally slowly descends back down and still holds onto him like a lifeline. All of it, all of her, he'll take if he can. He'll be greedy.

Her lips, now red and puffy, part as she gazes up at him, surprised at her own action. But it quickly turns into a delicate, open-mouthed grin that he mirrors.

"That was nice," She breathes out, a quick sigh following.

Wrecker nods, biting his lip to contain his smile.

"...Yeah."

She pulls herself closer to his body, having to tilt her chin all the way up to look at him fully.

"Er..." He mutters, trying to find the right thing to say. But he only blinks, and she giggles. He follows with a smile. "So will you go to the festival with me?"

She giggles again incessantly, dipping her head to rest in the crook of his chest to hide. But he's still able to hear her mutter, 'of course.'

Somewhere from afar, hiding between two stands and chomping on crackers, Omega, Lyana, and Phee scare the living shit out of a bypasser with their boisterous cheers.

tags: @xxamixisxx @afuckinnerfpuncher @ilovethosebrowneyes9904 @ct-9902 @echos-girlfriend @wenalena @lunarlockley ps. i currently dont have a taglist, the tags are for people who asked for one + ppl i think might enjoy this fic

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