#bad batch tech x oc | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

oceansssblue · 4 months

Note

Hello, I hope that you are having an amazing day. If requests are still open, I have a funny Star Wars prompt/or/oneshot if you want. You know how in Top Gun, after Maverick flirts with a lady at a bar, only to find out the next day that she is his superior officer. What about a similar situation in the Clone Wars era, in which one of the members of the Bad Batch, or one of the 501st like Fives, flirts with a female Jedi reader (who's probably in her early twenties) at the 79s, not knowing that she is a Jedi General. Only to find out the next day that she is the Jedi General assigned to them for their next mission.

Her appearance in the bar makes her look nothing like a Jedi. She just looks like a civilian until she is in her jedi robes the next day. She doesn't deliberately deceive them or anything. She just wanted to unwind after an undercover mission. She just didn't think bringing up that she is a Jedi was important, she assumed they already knew. The only hint she gave on their "date" night was a happy and playful "see you tomorrow" as they part ways to get to their respective homes/barracks. She is happy to see them the next day.

Cool fun little oneshot! Decided to go with Crosshair, seems more like his thing.

Hope you like it!

Xx,

Sky.

"SEE YOU TOMORROW"

CROSSHAIR/F REDADER 📩💖

WARNINGS: ALCOHOL, FLIRTING&TEASING.

Your muscles still ache after a two year undercover mision in Alcaz. Spending long hours of running and hiding in the capital will do that to anyone; even a Jedi. Your first mision with the Order started years ago; even if you're still young right now. Everyone starts early these days; you went from youngling to padawan and Jedi Knight in just a blink of an eye. The war makes you feel older than what you really are.

It's weird being back in Coruscant. Back in a normal setting were you don't need to constantly be aware of your surroundings –even if it's instinctual, now–; where you're not constantly in danger. Entering 79's, your eyes quickly flickering over the crowd of tipsy clones and the dance floor, a tiny smile makes it up to your face. You feel inmediately relieved, somehow. You don't need to pretend here. You don't need to be a soldier, a Jedi Knight, a General. You don't have responsabilities and lifes dangling from your shoulders. Here, right now, you can just be you, a simple girl in her twenty-two's.

Happy smile still in your face, you make your way towards the bar. You order a sweet drink light on the alcohol side to start with; turning around and taking small sips while you scan the bar distractedly. There's a few eyes on you already. Not because you're necesarily pretty –though you believe yourself to look alright–; but simply necause you're one of the few natives around here, and more so a woman. Clones will always be ever the gentleman, it's ingrained in their discipline, their sense of honor; but they're still men, real humans, and they have urges like everyone else. Like Jedis do, too, no matter what many people think.

You're not really in the mood for sex, though. You're too tired for that; your plan is to spend a few hours drinking and chatting and then return to the Temple. You've got a meeting tomorrow, and you should make sure you get your well deserved, comfortable sleep. You're almost drooling thinking of a bed already, but you'd like to unwind a bit first; even though your body is tired, you feel your mind too active to surrender to dreamland yet. Plus, you need to disconect from your previous mision and adapt to your new situation; to the new changes.

A few troopers that you had the chance to meet before starting your jump around the galaxy to serve to the Jedi and the Republic recognises you, and you quickly find yourself chatting amicably in a booth with them. They're kind, and perfectly respectful; they speak to you as if you were a normal person, though –not a general, not a Jedi–, and you soon fall into a relaxed posture and a lazy smile. None of you speak about war, about their fears and worries; but of hopes and desires, jokes and secret lovers that await for them patiently all over Coruscant. Some look flustered after realising they've confessed such things in front of you; but you just shake your head and smile. You're glad they're finding some happiness wherever they can.

On your third drink in –and probably the last one, judging by your flushed cheeks and the low hum of carefree excitement & arousal spreading inside of you– you feel another stare on you. It's heavy, it's intent so clear it's almost screaming at you; and you listen to your Jedi instincts, eyes slowly flickering around the bar to find it's owner.

You come up with a pair of dark brown eyes. They're the exact same shade of most of the clones in the GAR; and yet, it's stare so much more intense. It could almost cut through you and hit someone on the other side.

You study him curiously in the same way he has been observing you before. Even sitting down in a booth with some other soldiers, you can tell he's taller than most; the shape of his body and muscles long and thin, agile, though still strong. It's impossible not to notice the tattoo around his right eye; it fits him well, really. What surprises you most about him –besides his stare– is his hair, though; a mix of greys so pretty it almost shines under the lights of the 79's.

He's still dressed up on armour, like a lot of other soldiers on the bar. His is black and grey with a few stripes of dark red; a white skull with a "99" underneath it on his right pauldron. It's right then and there when you understand who he is, who they are; and your eyes twinkle in amusement, your smile widening. This is Clone Force 99, the squad that will be under your command. The Council told you they were different, that they had special abilities very useful for battles; but they fail to mention you they were literally, physically different as well.

You understand... Crosshair's –he must be– cautious and curious study then; he might be wanting to find out who exactly their new General is, and how does she behave when she's not on duty like everyone else.

You shoot him a grin and Crosshair's neutral, almost uniterested face turns into a smirk. He arches an eyebrow, and makes a gesture with his head; a welcome for you to join them in their table. You nod and say your goodbyes to the troopers; smiling and shooting one or two more playful comments before making your way across the room, walking confidently to this squad of extraordinary men.

"Hey there, boys" you greet them, deciding for informality in order to not spoil their night of fun from the start. "Care if I join?"

There's various reactions around the table. Crosshair looks amused. Echo and Tech are purely surprised –the later one quickly scanning you almost as if trying to find information about you with just his eyes–; while Hunter looks hesitant. Wrecker is openly excited and happy.

"Yeah, take a sit!" He pushes his brothers to one side, making room for you in the circular booth their sitting in, ignoring the other's quiet, pained grunts.

They all look a little tipsy too.

You chuckle and take the offer, letting down your drink on top of the table and sitting besides Wrecker. Crosshair arches his eyebrow again, still finding amusing how you seem confident enough in a table –a bar– surrounded by men. He likes confidence in a woman, but such levels are a bit more rare.

"Comfortable?" He asks, his voice deep and smooth, almost a lazy drawl, and you grin back at him.

"Very" you answer, emphasising your answer by taking a long sip of your alcohol and laying lazily against the booths backrest.

After holding his stare for a few seconds, you turn your attention back to the rest of the group; scanning them curiously. They do de same with you.

"So, didn't have time to do a change of clothes?" You point out. "Did you come back from a mission today, or is this just an night outfit choice?"

Wrecker laughs, will Echo and Hunter show a tiny smile. Tech is completely serious still, lost in his thoughts without tearing his eyes from you. Crosshair also stares at you.

"We came back from a mission a pair of hours ago, yeah" Hunter finally answers, relaxing slowly. "Thought we should enjoy a bit of freedom before getting back to work tomorrow".

His voice is deep as well; a bit more soft yet raspy.

"Ah" you answer, smiling guiltily. "Got it. Well, I'm not going to cut out your fun, no worries. Feel free to drink and chat as much as you like. Also... This is still a good fit. Beautiful armour, guys".

This time Tech blushes, Echo clears his throat in silence and Wrecker, Hunter, and Crosshair, all smile widely. Ah, yes, you forgot; armours are precious to all Mandalorians, including clones, and you could have very well call them...

"So you think we're hot? That it?" Crosshair drawls, eyes interested.

You laugh shrugging your shoulders. Yeah, well, you might be a little too tipsy. This is definitely your last drink if you want to keep things professional. Force knows if you weren't a Jedi and this weren't your men you'd have had already tried to take one of them home. Huh, it seems you're not as tired as you thought.

"Pretty" you correct him, if only to mock him a bit and play with him.

Crosshair's stare darkens and you can feel his arousal and want calling you through the Force.

You smile down playing with the rim of your glass distractedly, and feeling a sudden wave of shyness. Alcohol is a dangerous thing.

The thought makes you giggle a bit.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

The night goes on, and you switch to a non-alcohol drink as promised to yourself. The conversation turns normal and more easy as the clock ticks by; all of them being very interesting, fun people to chat with. Crosshair and Echo are more reserved than the rest; different types of quiet observing and thoughtfullness. You suspect the second one isn't as comfortable with your presence as the rest –while you have no doubt that that wouldn't suppose a problem in battlefield, you know he's an excellent soldier–; while Crosshair... Crosshair's intentions are still quite clear.

He's bold, you have to say. Most troopers wouldn't want to risk being reported for misconduct even if they know most Jedis would just gently shut their intentions down if it were the case. Clones usually don't want to risk it; though it's evident that Crosshair doesn't think you will or plainly, doesn't care.

It doesn't bother you. He's attractive, and it feels good to be desired; you're a Jedi, but you're also just twenty-two, and you can't help it yourself. Still, you're nothing but polite to him, if only a bit of playfullness here and there. You're not going to go to bed with him, not before your oficial meeting; not while you can still resist.

You sigh with a smile.

"Well, boys, it has been a pleasure" you start, standing up and patting Wrecker's shoulder besides you. "But I think I'm gonna go and try to shut an eye. Have your fun without me, see you tomorrow!"

Tech eyes widen slightly, observing your retreating figure while Crosshair makes a move to follow you out of 79's.

Tech grabs his brother's shoulder and pulls him back down, ignoring Crosshair's almost snarl.

"She expressed her desire to go to sleep, Crosshair. Let her be" he opted to say, still not 100% sure of his theory before proving it with a quick search on his datapad.

Crosshair sighed and gulped down the remaining of his drink.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

No matter that the Batch had left 79's pretty late in the night, they were all rised and prepared to meet their new General at 0600 puntually. Their faces carried nag under their eyes and various degrees of tiredness; but they weren't being shipped anywhere, so there was no real problem with that. It was just a formal meeting so they could put a face to the name and greet each other; then they'll be left alone to enjoy the rest of their shore-leave day.

"I hope she's nice!" commented Wrecker while they waited up in a line in front of the Marauder.

Hunter hummed.

"I just hope she lets us do our thing" he muttered, clearly not very happy about the new placement.

None of them were particularly enthusiastic; they had never had a personal Jedi General before, and it would be a big change for everyone involved.

"I am confident she will" answered Tech, perhaps the only one holding positive thoughts about it. "I have thoroughly researched our General in the early hours of the morning and she has an impressive record on undercover missions and other side tasks. It seems she is usually sent on unusual requests as well, just like us. In adition, she is fairly easy going. I am positive we would all be able to adapt to each other well".

Right when Wrecker was going to ask with a deep frown etched on his face how did he know she was as "easy-going" as Tech affirmed, a female figure crossed the doors of the hangar walking towards them with wide confident steps.

Wrecker's, Echo's and Hunter's faces stared back in shock; while Tech nodded firmly as if he were explaining something to them, and Crosshair followed the young Jedi's movement full of intrigue and a masked surprise.

"Morning, troopers!" She greeted them, still a few meters away from them.

Her smile was radiant in the greyness of the hangar bay.

Crosshair leaned towards the smartest of his brothers, subtle.

"Punishment for fucking your Jedi General?" he asked in a distracted whispered, eyes never leaving the woman aproaching them.

Tech answered completely unbothered by his antics; posture firm.

"From an informal reprimand to proper decomissioning".

Crosshair smirked.

"I'll risk it".

He arched an eyebrow in amused defiance when she looked straight at him.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taraaa! Here it is love, hope you like it! It was a little fun cheeky thing to write :)

Not checked after finishing writing it cause I have exam tomorrow and still got a few finals left, but I hope I didn't make a lot of mistakes!

Only two more requests left before I jump onto another tbb Mermaid fic. Don't worry, yall, I will reopen requests the future, just let me survive my exams first ;)

Stay tunned!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to masterlist here:

157 notes · View notes

bring-backup-99 · 5 months

Text

Before It Gets Too Late

PAIRING: tech x fem reader

SUMMARY: You spend a fun and special day with Tech, starting with a flying lesson that takes an unexpected turn. There’re fluffy times but mostly sexy times. (I’m trying to support and comfort my Tech people during this dark period.)

WORDS COUNT: 1926

RATING + WARNINGS: 18+, very spicy, porn with minimal plot, PiV, rough sex, probably bad flight mechanics

NOTES: This is installment twenty-two of my reverse harem “Bad Choices” smutlet series on Ao3, but I think it’s also a nice stand-alone Tech story. Although it’s written in second person, my heroine has a very established relationship with the Batch.

Everything was going fine until a large flock of flying creatures shot out of the canopy in a wide column directly into the ship’s path. You were too close to simply fly around them, and every other usual option you could think of would leave hundreds of them dead and the ship with possible light damage.

So without a second thought, you killed the thrusters while sending the ship in a tight turn, the nose pointed at the column. A quick tap of the port thruster has you cleared of the animals, with what you hoped were minimal casualties, then you reinitialized the main thrusters and resumed your disrupted flight path.

For a full minute, there was silence to your left. Finally, “It appears that flying lessons were unnecessary.”

“That was never the question,” you hedged. “You asked if I would like you to give me lessons. You didn’t ask if I knew how to fly. I answered honestly.” And this was your third time out.

“But with a glaring omission,” Tech huffs at you.

“Don’t be angry at me. I was very curious as to how you would be as a flight instructor, and I would not have received the same response if you had known.” What you do know is that this is logic he won’t be able to argue with.

He hmphs at you again, but you can tell he’s not really upset.

“That was an interesting maneuver you performed.”

“A modified ‘Tech turn.’ Seemed like the best option for minimizing death and destruction.” You pause for a moment, then you look at him. “It can’t be, right? The ‘Tech turn’…” You trail off as you see the corners of his lips turn up to an actual smile.

“That is not what it is called.”

“I’m going to fuck your so hard as soon as we land.”

“I was contemplating something similar.”

He doesn’t take the controls from you, but you sit quietly for a while.

“I’m not great at mechanics. You could teach me that?” you offer.

“Specifically define ‘not great’,” he asks.

“I definitely couldn’t fully repair this ship, but I am unable to give you a rundown of which systems I am deficient in. That’s the best I can do.”

“That…is acceptable.”

Almost as soon as the ship touches down in the tree-lined clearing, you are on each other. He lets you push him back down in his pilot’s chair, straddling him while your lips devour his with kisses. You groan in frustration as you try to divest him of his various layers of clothing, but you’re too eager and your fingers can’t find all the buckles and straps.

Want. Need. They course through you. You need his skin against yours. Finally, he takes pity, gently stops your fumbling, and slowly removes all the items covering his torso, your desperate whimpering doing nothing to hurry him. Then he lifts off your shirt. Your bodies crash together again. He kisses along your neck, down to your breasts, cupping them, licking your nipples. You throw your head back and cry out, your hands stroking over his head and neck; then fingernails scrape down his back, feeling his taut muscles.

“Against the wall,” you groan. Moments later, you’re both naked, and your back is to the one bare metal plate in the cockpit. Tech drops to a knee in front of you, places your leg over his arm, and targets your clit in a focused and aggressive attack.

“Fuck! FUCK!” you scream as, mere minutes later, you come. And then he lifts you, burying himself deep inside you, pounding into you, your pussy still twitching in pleasure.

Every rough, hard thrust is accompanied by his grunts, and you loudly proclaim your satisfaction, your voice echoing through the ship. You want Tech to do this, need him to do this, to take his pleasure from your willing body. He captures your wrists, pinning them above your head with one hand, his other hand gripping your ass, fingers pressed into your flesh, pinching, bruising. He kisses you, mauling your lips, and when he breaks away, you sink your teeth into his shoulder.

He gasps, releasing your wrists, and takes a strong hold of your ass and thighs, angling you for deeper, feral thrusts. Your arms encircle his neck and shoulders. You want him like this, desperate for you, as if no one else could give this to him. An animalistic groan emanates from him as his cock ravages you until finally a full throated cry signals his climax and he holds himself deep inside of you, and you feel his hot cum pump into you.

Neither of you move, the only sounds your gasping breaths as you each try to take in enough air.

“Mmmm,” you finally manage. “That was excellent.” You smile, then lick a drop of sweat from his neck.

“Yes,” he says, a slight gleam in his eye, “Quite satisfactory.”

* You lie in a bunk together, your head on his shoulder, a hand idly stroking his chest.

“Why did you not disclose to me that you did not need flying lessons? Your skill level is clearly quite adequate.”

You suck in your breath. I wanted to spend time with you outside of my bedroom. I wanted to know who you are when we’re not fucking. I wanted to be on this ship with you when you could be focussed on me. I wanted… So many wants, as if you can’t be happy with what you have.

“It’s been a long time since I flew. I wasn’t sure that I didn’t need them…at least as a refresher.” You hesitate. “Are you angry at me?...slightly perturbed?

“I am not. And at least they were not a waste of time.” His fingers run up and down your arm.

“No,” you agree.

Tech looks down at you, watching your hand move along his skin. You have not asked him why he offered to teach you, which is for the best. Tech is worse at articulating his wants than you are.

You wake up alone in the bunk. It’s been awhile since the person you’d fallen asleep with wasn’t still beside you. The ship is dark, so it must be night. You get up, the floor cold under your feet, expecting to find Tech in the cockpit.

Instead, a drop-ladder is down from the midship overhead storage space.

“Tech?” You call up.

“Ah, you are awake,” you hear him say. “I was just coming down to collect you. Come up here.”

“Um, I’m naked?” You look around for your clothing and see nothing.

There’s a long pause. “It appears that I am nude as well…I do have blankets.”

You sigh and tentatively climb the ladder, then follow Tech’s voice to a maintenance hatch with another ladder that lets you out onto the ship’s fuselage. He takes your hand and leads you to where he’s laid out a large blanket over the cockpit. You feel awkward even though the warm night air is quite pleasant on your skin.

“What’s this all about?”

Tech helps you down onto the blanket, then points up. “The moons have just set, so we should have quite an excellent view of the Quadrillen meteor shower. I believe you expressed dissatisfaction with your ability to see this from the city.”

You look up and, after a few moments, you watch a meteor blaze across the sky. You hadn’t mentioned that you wanted to watch this to Tech. You and Crosshair had been discussing it. You hadn’t realized Tech was paying attention. You lie next to each other, mostly in silence, watching the light show.

“I must admit, I was skeptical at first, but this is quite a pleasant experience.”

“Skeptical? Why?”

“I have seen many natural phenomena during my travels in space. I did not think that the debris from a comet entering a planet's atmosphere would be particularly visually stimulating in comparison to what I have witnessed. But taken as a whole, this is quite an excellent experience.”

You laugh. “I suppose.” Smiling, you continue to watch as the little streaks fill the night, when suddenly three meteors scorch their way across the sky. You sit up excitedly and point. “That was amazing.” You look down at Tech. He has a slight smile on his face, then he pushes himself up and presses his lips to yours. His arms gather your body to him, one hand stroking in your hair, one at the small of your back. He takes your breath away with his kiss, drawing you down onto him.

This feels insane. Are you really going to fuck on top of the ship under the night sky? Turns out, yes, yes, you are.

You lie on him, enjoying the feel of his hot skin along your body. You kiss for a long time, until you can’t take it anymore, and whisper, “I need you. Please.” He helps you slide onto him, both of you gasping. You whimper; you’re a little sore but the sensation is too sweet. You lean forward, pressed chest to chest, as he pivots his hip to help you fuck him gently.

And when he carefully rolls you both so you can watch over his shoulder as the stars cascade out of the sky, you can’t help but think that this is all a little too ridiculous. He moves above you, long strokes that make your breath catch, and you cry out because sometimes he fits inside you perfectly.

You wrap your legs around him. “Yes, I like that. It feels so good. Just like that, Tech. Mmmm, just like that.”

Stars keep falling as he takes hold of your legs, angling you so his cock can thrust deeper. Your cries sound small as the trees surrounding you consume them.

You move together, one being working toward the same goal. Each stroke sends shivers through you until you feel your body full with warmth as a soft climax overtakes you, not nearly as intense as the one earlier, but somehow more satisfying.

He holds your hands, fingers intertwined, as he watches your face while the orgasm washes over you, drinking in those little noises you make that he so enjoys. He moves carefully as you finish, knowing you must be sore already, wanting you to still find pleasure as he nears his own climax.

And then you start whispering to him, “Come in me, Tech. I need to feel you inside me. I need it. I need you to come for me.” You move under him, insistent, demanding, so he has to surrender to you. He stiffens and gasps, his hot cum emptying in you. You wrap yourself around him as he collapses onto you, finally spent. You watch as the stars continue to fall through the blackness of the sky.

“We shouldn’t fall asleep up here.”

“Yes, that would be unwise.” He gingerly lifts himself off you. You roll and lie on his shoulder, watching the stars fall behind the trees. The air is cooling and you shiver. “Let us go back inside. You can continue watching from the cockpit, if you wish.”

“Tech.” He looks at you, while collecting the blankets. I wanted to spend more time with you, that’s why I lied.

“Thank you for tonight.” This was really special to me. I hope it was to you.

“Yes, this was very enjoyable.” He watches you as you climb down the hatch. I wish to do this again.

* But wait, there’s more:

The rest of the series can be found here.

Warning: It gets kinky

#tech smut #tech x you #tech x reader #tbb tech #tech bad batch #tech #tech the bad batch #clone trooper tech #bad batch tech #tech x oc #the bad batch #tbb #bad batch #smutty fanfiction #the bad batch tech x reader #bad batch fanfic #bad batch fic #Let Tech fuck

164 notes · View notes

echojedis · 7 months

Text

I've posted the first drawing before but these two belong together- some juntech hospital angst @wrenkenstein

#clone trooper tech #the bad batch #tech tbb #juno caheere #tech x oc #art

184 notes · View notes

vimse · 8 months

Text

Happy Taungsday friends!

I’m sorry I haven’t been posting a lot. It has been a stressful month and it doesn’t look like it will clear up anytime soon. I’ll try my best not to go crazy 🥹

#the bad batch #the bad batch tech #tbb tech #clone trooper tech #the bad batch oc #oc: silvio rea #vimse art #tilvie #tech x oc #I’m sorry I don’t know how to draw tech anymore

201 notes · View notes

toastyrobos · 4 days

Text

Long time no art post…so it’s been a while since I’ve posted any bad batch artwork😅

Art block when it comes to bad batch art has been kicking my butt unfortunately. Not to mention I’ve been busy with commissions and Patreon stuff and personal life stuff. I missed drawing Tech x Onyx (Star Wars OC) so I decided to do a quick sketch of them. Might color it at some point.

I do want to sketch more of these guys, cause the show is my favorite Star Wars show. I’ll try to make time for them.

Speaking of the boys, I’ve been for the last year trying to collect the bad batch black series figures. I got Tech right away for Christmas last year, then Hunter several months later. Echo I found for a decent price on Amazon whereas Crosshair was so hard to find at a decent price. Especially the one in his bad batch colors. Luckily I found one for a somewhat okay price. Wrecker and Omega I ordered off of Hasbro’s website for a good price. Next time if I want a full set, I’ll just buy them right away instead of having to track them down like looking for a needle in a haystack😅😅

#megabeeart #star wars #bad batch #star wars the bad batch #the bad batch #i love the bad batch so much #tech bad batch #my artwork #onyx the jedi #tech x oc #the bad batch tech #star wars the clone wars #clone trooper tech #tbb tech

73 notes · View notes

staycalmandhugaclone · 13 days

Text

Fool's Errand Pt 7

Part (7) of Fool's Errand, the next arc of Doc's Misadventures! If you're new, start at the beginning with Touch Starved!

Gonna call this the halfway point, maybe

Warnings: impatience toward a child (kinda? I mean, yuh know... Crosshair), guilt, medical procedure/ gore, fantasy profanity (that warning always makes me giggle), sexual innuendo ish, gonna also add romantic tension because it's not really sexual tension, self-depreciating thoughts, body horror

WC: 3,755

“That's my arm… leg… That's still my arm…” There was a faint growl in the sigh that followed as the child continued pestering the irritated sniper, and my lips ached from how tightly I had to bite them to hold back my grin.

Wrecker offered none of my self-restraint, expression softened beneath a deep warmth, though there was no hiding the underlying sorrow in his gaze.

“How's the leg?” I asked quietly, attention focused on checking Hunter's chest tube and vitals before moving to look over Tech as well. He gave an almost bored shrug.

“Hurts a bit, but not like before.” He didn't take his eyes off the pair across from him as he spoke.

“When we reach the Marauder, I’ll give you something to relax, then we'll see if Cross and I can get it back in.” I told him gently. He let out a quiet hum in response.

“Think she means your armor.” He called out, voice still strangely hushed. I glanced over my shoulder to see Crosshair shoot his brother an unamused glare, but, when the girl pointed to his forearm, he let out resigned huff.

“Vambrace." He said, word perfectly monotone, and the excited gasp that followed left him dropping his face heavily into his hand, instantly drawing a wide smile across my lips. Wrecker returned that smile only briefly before sinking back into a quiet shame.

“She'll warm up to you.” I promised, leaning over to bump my shoulder against his, but he merely replied with a halfhearted nod.

The girl still hadn’t said a word, soundlessly communicating with a nod or a frown, though her expressions were so vibrant, we needed little assistance in understanding her. Meanwhile, Hunter and Tech remained unconscious. Though both were stable, the longer Tech’s arm remained in that tourniquet, the greater the risk of it causing damage to the limb.

“N- Those aren’t toys.” Cross nearly snapped, only belatedly forcing his voice into a tense murmur. I looked back to see the girl still tugging at one of the reflector disks at his waist, undeterred. He let out a poorly stifled growl before snatching at one of the disks and tossing it to her, earning a beaming grin.

“Why don’t yuh sit down? We’re still a few minutes away, an’ yuh look beat.” Wrecker asked softly. An excuse danced readily over my tongue, but, as I turned to face him, as I noted the gentle concern in his bright eyes, that excuse faded before ever being granted voice. And he was far from wrong. I felt the way my shoulders sagged despite some lingering attempt to fight back that oppressive exhaustion, the weariness of muscles long since pleading for respite, and I couldn’t help but let out a quiet sigh.

“Maybe you’re right.” I murmured quietly. “Just for a bit.” He offered a small grin as I settled into the seat beside him, gaze wandering over Crosshair once more with an air of amusement at his resigned glare while the girl practically sat in his lap as she leaned over to tap his bandoleer.

The medbay of the Marauder was never meant for this; it was meant to offer only a liminal reprieve while en route to a proper medical center, more akin to a transport than a place of actual healing, but this was war, and what was once the bare minimum quickly became fantastical ideals in the face of necessity. There was no surgical suite. There was no hope for sterility nor endless supply of equipment, but none of that changed the reality of what was before me; Tech would either bleed out or lose his arm if I couldn’t locate and fix the vessels that had been severed in the crash.

He lay unconscious atop my bed; the same bed in which he’d spent nearly a week suffering beneath the horrors of withdrawal from those wretched fungal spores; the same bed that had seen each of the brothers relax upon as I eased their aches with leisurely massages; the same bed Crosshair and I had slept together in nearly every night since the loss of my brother.

It felt like I’d barely slept a few minutes when Wrecker woke me. A quick glance at my chrono confirmed exactly that, but we’d reached the Marauder, and there simply wasn't time for anything more. I rubbed weary hands over my eyes, forcing back the nausea that so often followed in the wake of a far too short rest, and pretended not to notice how closely Crosshair was watching me.

With his help, we'd gotten Wrecker on board first, then Hunter. The movement had woken him, and we’d barely made it up the ramp before he shrugged us off. I’d nearly objected, nearly thrown the words “chest-tube" and “collapsed lung" at him through snarled lips, and demanded he let us help, but the handful of steps weren't worth the fight, and, at the moment, Tech was in far greater danger.

“What do you need?” Crosshair asked, shoulders drawn back, eyes hard as he studied the pale form of his brother between us. I’d almost taken a moment to find something for him to do, some way for him to help, but I didn’t have time to walk him through how to help, nor did I have the energy.

“I’ve got him.” I promised quietly, already guiding a pair of shears around Tech’s shoulder to cut away the sleeve. “You should talk to the girl – no, I mean actually talk to her.” It wasn’t scolding, but, from the disdain that twisted his face, it might as well have been. “She may know something,” I pressed, “and, right now, she seems to like you the most.” His shoulders sank, eyes narrowing into a weak glare, but he knew I was right.

“I'm not a damn babysitter.” I had to fight back a smirk at the indignation in his voice, stealing a quick breath to quiet myself before responding.

“So, interrogate her. Nicely.” His glare deepened, but I merely rolled my eyes.

“I don't do nice.” He hissed, drawing a sigh from me. Movements unrushed by impatience or annoyance, I set down the sheers and walked around the bed toward him, lips barely hinting at a warm smile.

“I think we both know that's not true.” I murmured softly. He started to object, scowl just beginning to twist his face, but the heat behind it faded as I reached for him, hand moving up to brush lightly over his chest before caressing his jaw, his cheek, fingers subtly pulling him down. “You can be very sweet.” That harshness abandoned him as he let himself be drawn toward me.

“Just because you get special treatment doesn't mean I've gone soft.” He tried to rebuke, lips even tensing with the beginnings of a frown, but, again, his retort fell into something far too gentle for the words he’d said, annoyance robbed by the sight of the grin toying with my lips.

“We’ll have to talk more about that ‘special treatment’ later,” I nearly teased, “but, right now, Echo needs to focus on monitoring troop movement, Hunter and Tech are both out, and she's…” I didn't want to say it, the words cloying up my throat, “she’s afraid of Wrecker… You're the only one she trusts enough to hopefully open up to.” With an almost growled sigh, he stood back to his full height, reluctantly pulling away from me as his jaw jut forward, narrowed gaze turning toward the door.

“Seems to trust you just find, too.” He pointed out. I released a slow breath, exhaustion unsatiated by those few minutes of rest stolen during the flight now making itself known once more through both weariness and the beginnings of an impatience I fought to stem.

“I can't take care of Tech and talk to her, Crosshair.” I tried not to let my voice fall into a grumble, but it was near enough to draw his attention back to me, shoulders sinking slightly at what he saw, and my jaw tensed as I caved beneath the urge to look away.

“Alright.” The way the innate rasp in his voice quieted into a careful whisper sent a flutter of warmth through my chest, the heat of it both comforting and crippling as it stripped me of the meager strength granted by an impatience I was simply too tired to fully hide, and what stillness followed as my eyes rose to find him studying me with a concern that nearly brought a flush to my cheeks was a far too gentle thing amidst the knowledge of what grizzly tasks still awaited me.

I replied only with a grateful nod, lips tensing with a smile I couldn't quite manage before turning back to Tech. Crosshair didn't move at first, and I wondered what thoughts held him for those handful of seconds. Was he searching for some final excuse that might convince me to withdraw my request and free him of his dreaded task? Or was he waiting for me to falter, unconvinced by the determination I forced back into my eyes as I returned to his brother’s side?

Regardless if his hesitation was from doubt or concern or reluctance, he waited only a moment before finally leaving, granting me an isolation that offered just as much strife as it did comfort, absolving me of the need to maintain some façade that I might pretend I wasn’t fighting how heavily my shoulders sagged the instant the door slid shut even as it emphasized just how alone I was in this. After doing what I could for Tech, I'd need to check Hunter again before moving on to Wrecker. There was no luxury of a break, no hope for reprieve lest I risk sacrificing the well-being and safety of my men. So, I allowed myself to waste no more time, gaze traveling over the deep gash marring Tech's upper arm.

We like to feign knowledge even where nothing can be guaranteed. The human body exists in a constant state of change, and even aspects held as fact cannot be relied upon in the face of independent cases. Anatomy is based on averages which, at best, grant perfunctory guidance and, at worst, acts only as a distraction. Even clones proved far more unique than the Kaminoans liked to believe. Genetics may offer a foundation, but who and what we become develop independent of, and occasionally in spite of, that primordial code, from the moral of our character to how our actions alter the physicality of muscle and bone through years of hardship and abuse. Anatomy claims knowledge of where veins and arteries nestle beneath skin and tissue, but immaculate diagrams and ancient names meant nothing amidst the gore of shredded flesh and thickening blood.

It felt like hours passed in the span of a single, endlessly held breath as I carefully sought out severed vessels, each one needing meticulous care to be knit back together around a shunt and flushed of all threat of clots. Repairing the muscle was easier, and I was relieved to find no severed tendons. Still, the moment I finally released the tourniquet, my heart raced faster with each passing second, eyes glued to the monitors for any signs of distress. Did I miss something? Had I taken too long? Symptoms of compartment syndrome, limb ischemia, embolisms, stroke, and endless other complications roared through my head. If anything happened, if he was hurt even worse because I wasn’t careful enough or quick enough, there was no one to blame but me… But his heartbeat remained steady… There was no sudden change in protein levels in his blood… Still, I couldn't let myself breathe… not yet… I set what equipment I had to monitor him for any change, but... he seemed okay.

I watched him for a long moment, as though my very presence might delay or prevent complications, locked in that fear that something would go wrong the instant I so much as blinked, before forcing myself to walk away. There was more that needed to be done.

Strides heavy, I trudged through the door, absently working a wet cloth between my hands. Logically, I knew the latex gloves worked as intended, that my skin was untainted from his blood just as his wound was safe from whatever bacteria thrived on my fingertips, but I could still feel it: thick and viscous and everywhere, the scent of which clung to me just as relentlessly as the nauseating texture.

“Doc?”

My eyes darted up to find Wrecker watching me carefully, concern heavy atop his brow as his jaw hung open with an unspoken question, body frozen where he stood in the kitchenette, hand still outstretched toward a cabinet.

“Wrecker, what are you doing up?” I asked quickly, already trotting forward.

“Uh, just… figured I’d get the kid somethin’ to eat.” He answered absently, thoughts clearly elsewhere. “Tech…” He started, and I realized why he seemed so distracted, chest bucking with a sharp inhale to answer him quickly.

“Recovering.” He let out a small sigh at my quiet reassurance. “There was a lot of damage, but it looks like I was able to repair it in time to keep the tourniquet from causing even more problems.” He was just about to reply, lips pulled into a relieved grin, but I interrupted him, words just shy of biting. “Speaking of ‘causing even more damage'…” There was a brief moment in which he seemed honestly confused. It took a mere flick of my eyes toward his knee, however, for a light blush and nervous smile to wash over him.

“Ah, well… with you being so busy, and we can all tell yuh need a break, Cross an’ Echo helped to just…” He motioned innocently toward the leg as he lifted it, bending the limb a few times as if to prove it was fine, but his hope for forgiveness crumbled amidst the darkness I could feel stealing over my expression. I knew they hadn't used muscle relaxers – I didn't keep any in my pack and no one had tried to sneak into the medbay while I tended Tech.

“Sit.” I ordered firmly, pointing to the small table. He hesitated, but held back whatever excuse or objection bated across his tongue as he sulked to the nearest chair. Without another word, I marched back into the hall, boots clicking loudly against the metal walkway as though to emphasize my annoyance.

The bunks were empty, as was the cabin when I entered it. Upon leaning down to grab my pack, however, footsteps sounded from the fore of the ship. I paused as Crosshair approached, not trying to hide the lingering annoyance from my gaze. He hesitated, confusion drawing his brows together.

“What?” The defensive snarl in his voice only furthered my irritation.

“I'll deal with you and Echo later.” I stated firmly. His expression pinched with indignation, but I didn't grant him time to form a retort before starting back toward mess, unable to deny the slight taste of pleasure at the note of apprehension that stilled any urge he may have had to follow with a sharp-tongued quip.

Wrecker hadn’t moved from the chair, hands thoughtlessly picking at his glove as he waited for me to return. His eyes snapped toward me as soon as the door opened. Whatever annoyance or anger I’d had abandoned me at the almost pitiful look on his face, tension fleeing me with a slow sigh.

“Didn’t mean to make yuh mad…” he muttered, teeth working over the inside of his cheek, and I had to fight the guilt that twisted through my chest.

“I’m not mad.” I whispered, walking quietly toward him. “I just… thought we were past this…” His head tilted slightly, looking at me with an uncertainty that further stoked my guilt. “This… dealing with things without me… Not letting me help you.” His eyes widened in understanding, back straightening as he drew a quick breath to respond, but I didn’t give him the chance.

“I know you’re strong.” He quickly stilled beneath the gentleness of my voice, the faintest hint of a blush just coloring his neck. “You’ve had to be – you and your brothers… You couldn’t rely on anyone else, so you had to figure out a way to survive alone – to make do…” As I spoke, I gently unwrapped the brace from his knee and held the scanner steadily over the still swollen joint, gaze studying the small screen. “And I know that you’ve taken on a lot more of that burden than anyone gives you credit for.” His shoulders sank slightly, gaze falling to the ground though he offered no objection.

“You calm them down when things get too heated… get them to laugh when everyone’s too angry or sad or tired to realize that that’s exactly what they need… what we need.” I corrected, acknowledging how often he’d done just that for me, as well. He remained silent, but I could feel his attention shift back to me as I began carefully working my hands over the wealth of muscle that tapered at the end of his thigh, touch flowing around areas the scan revealed to be damaged that I might ease some of the swelling before redressing it.

“I know it hurt.” I continued softly, a deep sympathy quieting my voice even further. “Reducing a dislocation… It feels a lot better afterwards, but…” Again, his lack of even a dismissive grunt only confirmed my statement. “And you… all that muscle…” I let my fingers spread over the dense cords stretching down his thigh, “It doesn’t matter how hard you try, with an injury like that, you can’t relax them. It’s an autonomic response, that’s why we use medication to help make them relax.” I glanced up at him to let him see the concern in my eyes as my hands returned to that careful, rhythmic ebb and flow along the abused tissue.

“I know you’re strong… probably barely even grunted when they did it… but forcing it like that, it can tear ligaments and tendons, and rip all that muscle that’s locked up trying to guard the joint… then it takes even longer to heal, and, even then, it usually doesn’t heal as well as it could have.” His jaw shifted absently to the side, teeth grinding in a mixture of guilt and resignation, rekindling my own guilt.

“I’m sorry.” I barely whispered it, hands coming to a stop atop the broad curve of his calf. A fresh confusion pulled at his handsome face, mismatched eyes studying me with a focus that was somehow just as quieting as it was penetrating.

To anyone else, seeing him like that, expression pinched with powerful brows drawn together and that broad jaw tensed enough to emphasize the cords of muscle lining his cheeks, he may have looked frightening. I knew others would have found him frightening… but I also knew what drove the intensity of his gaze; the desperate need to truly understand those around him; to read them before he might do or say something that would offend or scare absent need or intent. That’s why he was so gentle; so adept at buffering the fiery tempers of his brothers or, if the mood struck him, stoking the tempers of any unfortunate enough to garner his ire. Now, however, he stared at me like that neither to soothe nor harass. He studied me because those words didn’t make sense amidst the blame he believed himself responsible for, and he needed to understand before he could make it right. But I didn’t want him to feel that way. I only wanted him to be okay.

“I should have been faster.” I didn’t stop at the flash of realization that came over him, nor from the almost pained remorse that followed. “Leaving you with a dislocated knee for… hours – kriff… I really can’t blame you for wanting them to fix it any way they could.”

“Doc-” He called, shoulders sinking, but again fell silent as I looked up at him with a weary, apologetic smile.

“But next time,” I pressed, sowing something of a command back into my voice, “at least check with me first… Alright?” He was quiet for a moment longer before nodding, but the words that followed made my stomach sink.

“I mean… not like popping a knee back in is more important than saving Tech’s arm, so…” He said it was such offhanded disregard, body shifting in a dismissive shrug. When he looked at me, however, he froze, and I could only guess at the deep heartbreak surely painted across my face.

“You’re important.” I breathed the words into the too-great distance between us, pressing each one into existence with a desperate plea, begging him to believe me. “You’re important, Wrecker.” I said again, reaching up to cradle one of his hands between mine. It always surprised me; the sheer size of him. It was somehow so easy to forget amidst his vibrant, caring personality until moments like this when I could see how he dwarfed me, palm too wide for my fingers to fully wrap around.

That size also made it easy to imagine him as this invincible, impenetrable force, but that couldn’t be further from the truth. I’d seen how deeply the girl’s fear had wounded him, how beaten he looked from the mere threat of my anger, and I hated myself for having caused him such hurt, for ever allowing him to think of himself as lesser than his brothers. Chest jerking with a sharp inhale, I pulled his hand toward me, lips pressing gently against his knuckles, and I mourned the cause of every scar marring that stunning, calloused skin.

“I never want you to think you’re not… not to me.” His hand shifted ever so slightly between mine, twisting as though he meant to reach for me, fingertip only just brushing against my chin before he pulled away, throat shifting stiffly as he swallowed whatever thoughts he’d robbed of any hope of being born. With a final, jerked nod, he leaned back, and the room felt that much colder without the heat of his touch, but I merely drew a deep, steadying breath and let my attention return to his knee, already reaching for a tube of bacta.

“All right. You going to drop your pants, or do I need to cut them off of you?”

Click here or message me if you'd like to be added to a taglist!

Click here for my Masterlist.

Taglist: @arctrooper69 @eclec-tech @jennrosefx @echos-girlfriend @starqueensthings

@manofworm @merkitty49 @idoubleswearimawriter @abigfanofstarwars @chopper-base

@daftdarling222 @pb-jellybeans @bacta-the-future @rosechi @legalpadawan

@drummergirl1701 @6oceansofmoons @dangraccoon @ji5hine @dathomiri-mudpuppy

@mooncommlink @isthereanechoinhere96 @inneedoffanfics @totally-not-your-babe @delialeigh

@blondie-bluue @ray-rook @iabrokengirl @arcsimper5 @rndmpeep

@amorfista @wanderneverlost @flawsandgoodintent @passionofthesith @followthepurrgil

@roam-rs @foodmoneyandcats @savebytheodoresnonjosestuff @9902sgirl @captainrex89

@waytoooldforthis78 @msmeredithrose @mythical-illustrator @sleepycreativewriter @anythingandeveythingstarwars

@littlefeatherr @thegreatpipster @melonmochii @totallyunidentified @mickeyp03

@hipwell @echos_pile_of_bones @leotawrites @Asgre_Thar @fruityfucker

@babyscilence @skellymom @youreababboon @echo9821 @heidnspeak

@Callsign-Denmark

52 notes · View notes

imabeautifulbutterfly · 6 months

Note

Hello friend! I'm in love with your writing!!! 😍😍😍😍😍

Idk if your requests are still open but I'd like to request something if you don't mind!

I LOVED the hurt/comfort/whump fic you did for Hunter. Could you possibly do something like that for Tech x Reader?

Maybe Tech and the reader are on a mission together or maybe they've crash landed somewhere or something. The reader is badly hurt and Tech has to take care of her and treat her wounds and save her and comfort her in his own special Tech way 😂😍

Oh @arctrooper69 what can I say? I mean ... I think a thank you is just not enough. You have made my day with this request, so I took my time to give it the proper respect it deserves. I hope you like it. If it wasn't exactly what you were looking for I do apologize.

Please note that you are always welcome to send in requests. As this is a special request, it will be stored in my One Shots & Mini Series Master List.

The story got a little away from at 1400+ words, but I hope it's close to what you wanted.

And who doesn't love Tech. I love this adorable nerdy man.

Love oo,

His Promise

Warnings: Snow, injury, blood, explosions, crash, grief, fear, anxiety, hurt, fluff, near death, feelings of being a burden, getting in the way, I think that's it. If I miss any, please let me know.

Please note the explanation of Snow, Tech gives, was taken from the National Snow and Ice Data Centre.

AO3 Link | OS & MS Master List | Main Master List

The wind was picking up, as the snow piled down and was doing everything in its power to keep you and Tech from being rescued. You looked at the snow as it came down in sheets outside the entrance of the cavern he found, mesmerized by its beauty.

“It’s beautiful and so calming …” you said slowly, your body already weakened from your injury and loss of blood.

“What are you talking about?” Tech did his best not to let the slowness of your breathing or even the breathless way you were speaking affect him. His anxiety was already high, and his fear of losing you was nearing his breaking point.

“The snow…” you kept watching the soft flakes float down as they gently landed on the ground, piling on top of one another, almost as though they were unable to survive without the comfort of those around them.

Tech glanced up to see the blizzard which prevented you both from leaving. As he watched the speed of the wind, he calculated it would’ve been nearly impossible for Hunter to bring the ship close to them. As he looked at the used bandages already soaked through with your blood his fear only grew. You needed immediate medical attention, more than he could provide at the moment, or it would mean certain death for you to be out here any longer.

Frankly, he couldn’t stop picturing the way you lunged forward as the ship crashed. He was helpless to watch you, as your body fell forward against the console, as a piece of the console broke off and jabbed you in your abdomen. It all happened too fast and somehow in slow motion. He could still hear your scream piercing his ear as he pulled you off the console.

He tried to stop the bleeding right away, however when he went to look for the med kit, he realized only too late that it had fallen out of the shuttle when the engine and the side compartment blew. All he had left were his emergency bandages and gauze and they weren’t nearly enough.

At that moment, he couldn’t care less about how beautiful the snow was or how calming the blizzard looked from inside a cavern, that he only had to find because that piece of osik shuttle decided to have a fuel leak, catching on fire.

Within seconds he had needed to drag you out of the relatively warm and safe shelter you both had, grabbing what supplies he could before the ship blew up. Thankfully, he had been able to send a message to Hunter when the shuttle crashed initially. So it was only a matter of time before the Marauder showed up, but …

His eyes fell back to the bundle of used gauze, his anxiety climbing as he knew you needed more first aid than he could provide at the moment. You needed the Marauder, you needed his med kit that he carefully stocked and kept safe on board the Marauder. At this point in time, he didn’t care about any kriffing snow.

“Snow is an accumulation of packed ice crystals. The condition of the packed crystals determines a variety of attributes, such as colour, temperature and water equivalent. As weather conditions change, the packed ice crystals can change as well, and this affects the characteristics of snow.”

You chuckled at his ability to pull forth information like it was nothing. Unfortunately the chuckle turned to coughing. Only causing you to dribble more blood out of your mouth, you wiped away what you could. He didn’t need to see that, “Tech …” you coughed again, “turn off your brain for two seconds, don’t think and just look. Just watch.”

He pulled the heater closer towards you, “Stop talking and try and warm up.”

“Tech…” you held his hand, “just look.”

His eyes drifted up your body, till he locked eyes with you. They were pleading for him to listen and to just have him appreciate what you found mesmerizing. He tried to follow your advice, focusing on the snow, but all his mind kept drifting back to was this blizzard that was preventing you from getting the medical attention you needed, so desperately.

He shook his head focusing back on your abdomen, trying to stop the bleeding. Trying his best to keep you with him.

“Tech,” you gripped his wrist “… stop …”

“No.”

His tone was firm and full of anger, why did he agree to let you come with him? If he used his brain instead of allowing his feelings for you to dictate his actions, you wouldn’t have been here. You wouldn’t have gotten hurt. Why did you always insist on following him? Why didn’t you just stay behind on Pabu? Simply because you wanted to see the galaxy, and he was excited to show it to you? It was his fault you were here. It was his fault you were in danger. It was his fault he … was going to lose you.

“Tech …” you squeezed his wrist. He removed your hand from his wrist, placing it off to the side as he focused on your wound. He didn’t deserve your touch, he didn’t deserve to have you comfort him. It was his fault you both crashed on this force forsaken planet.

There was nothing you could do as you watched Tech pull away.

From the moment you met him on Pabu, the way he worked with Phee as he helped rescue the villagers when the rogue wave was rushing towards the island, and the way he helped make everything more ‘efficient,’ you couldn’t help but fall in love with him. You wanted to learn from him, to listen to him go on with regards to anything and everything. Only problem was you never had the courage to actually utter the words you were dying to. Phee told you time and time again, ‘later’ was never a guarantee, and now as you lay on the cold floor of the cavern you were in, bleeding out of your abdomen, you realized how little time there was left.

Tears welled up in your eyes, as you realized you needed to unburden yourself. You needed to tell him what had been pressing on your heart before you didn’t have the strength to, it didn’t help that you were feeling weaker with each passing second. Also didn’t help that you could tell he was angry, actually a more accurate description would be infuriated, more than likely at you.

“I’m sorry.” You offered the only apology you could. “I’m sorry I’m such a burden, even now.” You took in a shuddering breath as Tech stopped moving his hands for two seconds as he focused on your face. “I’m sorry for always pestering you to teach me,” you offered, your voice barely above a whisper. “I’m sorry for not listening,” a tear slid down your cheek, “I’m sorry for putting you in this position. To have to feel responsible for someone like me.”

He shook his head, his teeth clenched as his anger, grief, fear, and sadness overwhelmed him completely in that moment. He pulled off his helmet and placed it beside him.

“Stop.” It was his only command.

“Please, I …” you coughed again, trying to not cough on him. “I just want … I need to …”

He cut off your speech as his hand cupped your cheek, “Cyar’ika …” tears welled up in his eyes, “you were … are never a burden.” He couldn’t believe that’s what you thought of him… that’s what you believed he felt for you. He shook his head again as he pressed his forehead to yours. “I have loved every second we have spent together. I made a point to record every moment with you, because they were more precious to me than breathing.”

You held on to his bicep, keeping him close as tears streamed down your cheek, “Tech … I … I don’t want to go… I want … I want to stay here with you…”

“You’re not going anywhere. I just got you …” his tears landed on your cheeks, mixing with your own, “you’ll be okay. I promise.”

“Hold me… please… just hold me until…I can’t feel your arms anymore.”

“I’ll hold you longer than that,” Tech pulled you into his arms, lifting you off the ground as he felt your body grow weaker. Your eyes were closed, your body was growing pale. He was so focused on you, he didn’t hear the voices calling out to him, at least not until he felt Hunter’s hand on his shoulder. He didn’t wait, there were no more seconds to lose. He rushed towards the Marauder with you in his arms, he wasn’t going to lose you. He promised. He was going to bring you back.

AO3 Link | OS & MS Master List | Main Master List

Tag list:

@liadamerondjarin @badbatch-simp24@spicymcnuggies@lady-ren @firstofficerwiggles @darkangel4121 @discofern @kavecika @monako-jinn-stories @ladykatakuri @avathebestx @theroguesully @furyhellfire66 @carodealmeida @ciramaris @sprout-fics @twinkofthedink @dindjarin-mandalorian @ulchabhangorm @tortor-mcgee @vodika-vibes @clonethirstingisreal

273 notes · View notes

leenabb104104 · 2 months

Text

Wearing his old blacks 🥰💚💕

(Please enjoy this amazing ficlet that my super talented friend @legacygirlingreen wrote for this piece! I’m am just thrilled that she blessed this post with her beautiful writing! It’s perfect for this little scene! She is awesome and please go and check out all her work!!)

@legacygirlingreen @thora-sniper @sukithebean @thecoffeelorian @neyswxrld @somewhere-on-kamino @clonethirstingisreal @royallykt @morerandombullshit @burningfieldof-clover @tbnrpotato @keantha

88 notes · View notes

nightskyfoxyy · 2 months

Text

I remember seeing someone claim she "hates kids" a while back. Yeah sure thats probably why Lyana came running to hug her and yell "Auntie Phee!!!!! :D" the moment she landed and Omega thinks shes the coolest around lmao.

Live Tech Reaction:

#lo rambles #media literacy so piss poor you just start saying shit #genuinely wondering where they got that idea #and of course they had an oc ship with tech and of course its a bland white lady #wonder why it is they hate phee. mysterious #not namedropping cause i think they deleted the post (rightfully so #rancid take) and i dont wanna start shit #but yeah #have this correct take and art instead :)#star wars #the bad batch #fanart #phee genoa #tech bad batch #tbb omega #techphee #tech x phee #omega bad batch #tech is planning the wedding as we speak

202 notes · View notes

queenofspades6 · 5 months

Text

Imagine Omega and the others escaped Tantiss’base, while the boys are trying to go save her 😭😭😭

138 notes · View notes

oceansssblue · 4 months

Note

Hello! I hope you’re doing well! Can I request a fic where Omega gets injured and separated from the Batch for a few days, and the reader (female) takes care of her until they can find her brothers? One night stormtroopers/imperials come in to try and take her, but reader is a BAMF (maybe an ex-battlefield medic? She has access to blasters, knives, smoke grenades, etc. to make another part of this more believable) and is able to fight them off pretty easily. The problem is actually when the Batch shows up, and reader thinks they’re the enemy and the Batch thinks she’s holding Omega hostage or something. And thus, reader vs. the bad batch begins! No one kills each other because Omega comes down and clears everything up upon her hearing her brothers. It just took her a while to come over because, you know, injury.

Also I think it’d be fun if the reader did manage to pin Hunter, even if it’s only for a second and then she would likely get pinned back because . . . It’s the bad batch.

Sure thing love, I'm down!

Xx,

Sky.

"NOT YOUR ENEMY"

HUNTER/F READER 📩💖(💔)

WARNINGS: blood&wound, stitches, light mention of atempted assault to omega (nothing happens further than words), reader being a badass and killing some storm-troopers, fire/explosions, reader being shot, some teasing/sexual tension with Hunter... A hint of competency kink? It's mostly action/fluff!

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

You were just on your way back home after collecting your credits when your eyes capture the shine of a blade with the reflection of the moonlight. You've been trained to focus on such things; possible weapons, always being aware of your surroudings. If you're distracted, your dead. You weren't always; but it comes as natural as breathing to you, now.

You're not in the mood for a fight, though; so once you realise you're not the one in danger, you decide to pass this one out. If you go looking for a fight, it will find you. You're still tired of your last hunt; you're not feeling the thrill of a new chase just yet. That's until you hear a voice; way too innocent and young to be stuck in such a situation without proper defence.

Your steps backtrack silently and your eyes quickly scan the alley. It's a human girl; blonde, petite, and no older than fourteen. There are three males closing up on her; two humans, one twi'lek. You see the girl trying to get pass them, a nervous anxious smile on her face. You make your resolve right then and there.

You've got to be careful. You can't save everyone.

You move so quietly towards them they don't even realise you're right at their back until you voice up your request with your blaster pointing straight at them.

"Let's keep going on with our peacefull night walk, boys".

It's serious, firm, feigning boredom. Inside, you're as coiled as a snake, ready to strike.

Ready. Always ready. Don't trust anyone. An innocent looking enemy might be your death if you don't take him seriously, if you don't think he's a danger. If you grow complacent.

They glance at each other, evaluating their chances against you. Then down at the girl; their price if they won, or the reason of their downfall if they decide to engage you and lose. One of the humans shrugs lazily, making a head gesture towards the other two. They slowly follow him out of the alley.

"All yours" the last one snorts when he passes by you.

If someone backs down, let them go.

You swallow your furious retort and take hold of the girls wrist, tugging her in the other opening of the alley, opposite direction to them. You don't trust them not to follow you, try to catch you by surprise, so you don't stop until you're at the other side of town, walking towards the outskirts in the direction of your small house. You're still vigilant all the way.

"You alright, blondie?" You ask, glancing at her and scanning her body cautiously. "You got yourself a wound there, shirt's soaking up blood".

The girl looks down at herself and nods guiltily.

"Yeah, I, uh... Had some complications" she ends up saying, quietly, before her face quickly lits up. "Thanks for helping me, though! I appreciate it".

You nod and that's that.

"Do you have somewhere to go?"

She nibbles with her lower lip anxiously.

"Uh, yeah, but... I lost my coms in a fight, so I have no way of contacting my brothers. Can I... Stay with you for a bit til I find them? I'm sure they'll catch up to me in no time".

You glance at her and sigh quietly. You don't really want to get involved, but you have too much of a conscience to leave her to fetch for herself. She's just a kid, and you're a military medic. Well, were.

"Alright. But if you annoy me I'm pushing you out".

The kid grins. She looks even younger with the excitement and relief in her face.

"You remind me of one of my brothers. Grumpy" she adds, good-heartedly.

You huff.

"Not grumpy. Direct. Concise" you correct her. "It's different".

She chuckles quietly.

"Grumpy" she tells you again.

You roll your eyes. You're used to taking care of men; you haven't have much contact with kids before.

"You're not doing a good job of not annoying me, blondie".

She smiles and makes the universal gesture of zipping her mouth shut.

"I'm Omega, by the way" she tells you after a few seconds in silence.

You nod and glance at her again. You should really check that wound when you're back at home. It's bleeding quite a bit, even if you don't think it's deep enough to worry. You're sure you have enough meds at home to take care of it. Omega doesn't seem to be in pain either.

She stares at you while you walk, leading the way to your safe place; still expecting an answer. You glare at her before focusing back on your way home. This is going to end up being either surprisingly good or exasperate you to no end.

You relent.

"Nickname's Blade".

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Turns out Omega is pretty good company; which is quite a relief considering she's more injured than what you had originally thought and his brothers are no where to be seen after three whole days of her invasion of your privacy and home. You make sure to disinfect her wound and stitch it back together; you don't have strong opioids on stock, but she holds on surprisingly well, clenching her teeth and shutting her eyes, breathing through the pain. It makes your perspective of her change; she's not just any kid if she can push herself through that without barely making a noise. She's brave.

You cover the wound in bacta and dress it carefully; and make sure to change them to new ones twice a day. At the third night you inspect the closed wound carefully, the aspect of the skin and wether the stitches are still in good place; it seems to be progressing well. You still force her to bed rest; your new sleeping place your backpack layed on the wooden floor beside her. She feels guilty about it, and it shows; you only aknowledge it with a quiet hum. You're not going to deny you'd like your bed back; but you've slept in much worse conditions before.

I know it's difficult to fall asleep. Just try to tune it out. Think on other things.

On that third night, when you turn the lights out, Omega cautiously asks you about the origin of your nickname. You tell her your story. How you got your degree in Medicine in Coruscant's University; how you mastered in Galactic Bioscience when the war hit it's peak. How you started your first working years as a doctor in a clinic while you constantly heard about the battalions of clones being shipped elsewhere; defending all of you while you stayed with your simple Coruscanti life. How that hadn't set well inside of you; how you struggled with guiltiness and empathy every single day until you took the decision to enlist in the volunteers for the GAR. You tell her that switching to military medic had been a struggle at first; but the gratification was unmessurable. You were really needed there; you really did a change saving all those brave troopers lifes. You grew to respect them and admire those men like you had never admired someone before.

Unfortunately, with being a woman in military service, and a volunteer at that, very few troopers thought it meant you weren't able to defend yourself. To fight. When one cocky, snarky trooper had insinuated that publicly in the middle of the comedor, you had done what you believed was your right and justice by shutting his mouth; snarling back a warning while using your knife to nail down the sleeve of his upper blacks to the dinning table, blade sliding just a few inches away from his skin.

Omega's eyes are wide open while she listens to the anecdote. Yeah, it had made an impact among the clone lines as well.

"Okay, you're giving me Hunter vibes with the knife things now" she giggles in the darkness of your bedroom.

You arch an eyebrow, humming under your breath uncomitedly.

"What, he a soldier too?"

Omega is quick –too quick– to correct you.

"No, no. Mercenaries".

You'd give her the sceptical side eye if you had her in front of you. You let your voice carry your suspicion instead.

"Running around with a kid like you?"

The girl stumbles to answer. It's obvious there's more to the story there, but you believe she is trying to protect her siblings, so you let it be.

"Hey, I can defend myself!" She argues with a small huff, voice turning sheepish right after the outburst, considering your actual situation. "Well, on most ocasions. Life works in unexpected ways sometimes".

You can't help the snort that comes with her words.

"You bet" you answer sarcastically. You sigh tiredly and close your eyes again. "Good night, Omega".

You hear her reacomodating softly against the sheets.

"Night, Blade".

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You've always been a light sleeper. As soon as the alarm rings, you're jumping out of your sleeping bag and rushing to get your armour on –now stripped of all Republic marks– and backpack on your shoulders; already prepared with the basics in case you came across an emergency like this. You take a quick glance at the datapad you have conected to the cams you've got set up on the surroundings of your cabin; cursing under your breath.

"Omega" you call her sharply, shaking her awake without an inch of sympathy. "Get up and ready to go. Don't make me repeat myself".

The girl blinks sleepily, but she reads the urgency in your voice. She understands this is no joke; so she quickly jumps into action too, abandoning the comfort and warmth of the bed and quickly throwing her clothes on too, electrical bow clutched in her hands. She stares at you wide eyed.

"What's going on?" She whispers, nervously.

You ruffle through your closet, jaw clenched and set on the task of preparing yourself for the worst. One blaster gets inmediately strapped at each outer thigh; your belt of knifes looping around your waist. One vibroblade goes into the safe-pocket of your right vambrace; your second one on your left leg. You stuff your bag with a few extra surprises and tie up your hair. It's time to move.

Time is precious. Time is life. Don't be slow. Do it fast, and do it good.

"Stormtroopers" you finally answer her, cinching your backpack firmly on your shoulders, expresion growing firm and serious. "Got this whole area studied in case someone found out about my past and went towards me, but I didn't think it would be this many enemies. I think there's something you haven't told me, but there's no time for that now. Listen carefully, 'cause I'm not gonna' say this twice".

Omega nods, just slightly afraid, and you push a smaller datapad into her hands.

"This is a second safe house I've got prepared not too far away from here, close to the lake" you explain to her, quickly. "Follow the map and go there. There's different routes saved up in case you find one blocked or any other difficulties. Be silent, be quick, and you shouldn't have much problem getting there. Once you're inside, open the closet in the corner of the cabin and in the first drawer you'll see another datapad. It controls some explosives I've got set around that house. If for some reason the stormtroopers get to the safehouse before I do, blow them up, and run away. I'll be able to track your location if you have that datapad on you, it's conected to mine, so I'll find you sooner or later. Got it?"

Omega nods, brow furrowed in concentration. She looks up at you anxiously.

"What will you do? You're not... Coming with me?"

You shake your head.

"I'll buy you time" you answer, firm. "Got a few surprises set out round here as well, and I'm trained. I'll clear this out and follow you to the safe house".

You open the door of the cabin and take a carefull glance out. You make a gesture towards her.

"You should go now. They're still a kilometer away".

Omega stays stuck to the floor. You narrow your eyes at her.

"Go" you snap towards her. Then, your eyes soften. "I will go after you, I promise".

Don't promise things that aren't in your hand to make it happen or not.

But promises give hope.

False hope.

Sometimes false hope is all you need to fight harder.

Omega runs into the forest, and you're quick to close the door and abandon the cabin as well, finding your hiding spot among the trees and keeping an eye at the aproaching stormtroopers through your datapad.

You knew this kid meant trouble. Well, if war is what they want... Your fingers caresses the hilts of your blades. That's what they'll get.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You logically know you're no match for these stormtroopers if you were to pull a direct open attack on them. You use your advantages, though; you're in your territory, one you know well, and they're advancing with blind trust that you'd be no real danger to them. It does wonders for your counter attack, and you silently move through the forest, killing one lonely soldier after the other with just a quick slash of your blade, throats splitting open and last words muffled against the palm of your globed hand in a wet gurgle of confusion and pannick. You gently let each body fall to the ground before you're moving towards the next one, checking their positions on your datapad through the cams you've got almost everywhere; lethal, quick, and quiet.

When they finally discover you –one soldier catching you silently opening the throat of a fellow one, and he shouts out your position in alarm–you've already killed half of them in the silence of the night.

It turns harder after that. They know you're around, they're aware, active; they know you're not an innocent normal civilian any longer. You're danger, real; they're coordinated, and they move fast as well. You hadn't used your blasters before in order to take advantage of the element of surprise; but you need them now, so you dodge and take your shot at them. Two more fall down before two of their own shots hit both your blaster –ripping it from your hand– and your right shoulder. You swallow your scream of pain and whimper quietly, clenching your jaw shut. You push through the pain and retreat back to the cabin in a hurry; it's your best chance.

It's a game of agility and speed. If you get there first, and they close around your home, you'll detonate the explosives hidden in the ground and kill them all. If they catch you before you're able to do that... It's you who'll end up dead.

Adrenaline rushes through your body and you feel like you're flying while you run. A shot scorches the armour plate on your back, and though it makes you stumble, you grin darkly. You've made it, and they're all dead.

You turn around to watch them and press the button on your datapad. All around you, the forest explodes and burns.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Once you make sure there are no survivors around you –you have to shoot a pair of them down who are still struggling to breathe through the scorching pain–, you take a bacta pad from your backpack and cover your wound with it, wrapping a bandage around it to properly secure it before you're walking away from you're no-longer home. You'll tend to it properly afterwards, later; right now you don't feel like it's safe to stay here, where you've caused such a wrath. You need to get to your safe house. You need to find Omega; and you bet these stormtroopers must have reinforcements somewhere.

Fuck, this is all a mess. This is going to put a bullseye on your back and you would probably never be safe in this planet again; you should probably make a jump more sooner than later.

You sigh tiredly and continue making your way through the forest, periodically checking your datapad. You feel relieved to know that at least Omega's signal is permanently stationed there on your second cabin.

You're still checking the cams, so there should not be a way for you to get surprised; but almost upon arriving your safe house, you catch a blur of grey, red, orange and blue moving towards you at high speed with the corner of your eyes. You barely have time to identify what it is before you're being brutally tackled to the ground with a painful grunt. You fight back viciously, cataloging the man's appearance while you swing your vibroblade and try to slash him with it; the soldier quickly grabbing your hand and forcing you to drop the weapon with brutal force, almost twisting your wrist and fingers in his effort. You hiss and roll around, keeping him under you this time. It's not like you're lacking knifes...

You manage to draw one from your belt and push it right to his neck when someone else clears his throat at your back; making you glance back.

Fuck, this one's huge.

"Need some help, sarge?" He almost mocks him, and you're momentarily surprised by the entertainment in his voice, the camaraderie between this two stormtroopers as clear as the water from Naboo lakes.

You quickly pull your second blaster out and try to shoot at him; but he's faster, and he shoots back, hitting the very center of your chest plate. The impact is so close it pushes you off from the first soldier's body; who quickly takes advantage of the momentum to efectivelly pin you under him, no way of escaping them now.

Your mind is divided between trying to cope with the pain on your chest and the pannicking fact that you're trapped, and this is probably your end. Angry, frightened tears fill your eyes.

"Where is she?" the soldier on top of you demands, voice deep and almost raspy.

You narrow your eyes at him.

"Go fuck yourself" you spit in between your panting breaths.

The big one chuckles.

The trooper on top of you rips his helmet off and stares at you; clenching his jaw. You get why he decided to do that; he looks intimidating, with half of his face tattoed in black, almost mimicking a skeleton. He lowers his face and you can't help but grow tense.

"You did a good job with those stormtroopers, but I don't have any patience left, mercenary. Where. Is she".

He presses you against the floor with his hands on your shoulder, and you whimper involuntarily when he pushes against your covered wound.

The fact that he has refered to the stormtroopers with "those" slowly registers your mind. He talks about them as if they weren't ones themselves. You quickly scan them with your eyes. They're definitely not clones, no –at least not the normal ones–, and they are soldiers. Perhaps they belong to some other organization? But what could they want Omega for?

"Not a mercenary, just a normal civ here" you push through the pain and actually grin at him, defiantly, almost whispering against his lips. "And like I said; go fuck yourself".

His right hand turns into a fist and retreats, prepared to hit you, when a pannicked voice echoes in the silence of the forest, running towards you.

"Hunter! W-wait!"

The soldier's head snap towards the girl and his eyes fill with confusion, relief, and worry.

"Step back, Omega. Stay away" he orders, with a familiarity that suddenly makes everything gain sense.

The facts falls into place. This is Hunter, the brother Omega mentioned before; the one with the vibroblade. Your eyes fly to the spot for it in his own vambrace. Oh, you're all so stupid. You've almost killed each other looking for the same thing; to protect the kid.

"She's not your enemy!" Omega insists, panting while she finally reaches you lot, the big guy holding her back with a carefully heavy hand on her shoulder, a confused expresion in his scared face. "This is Blade. She was a GAR medic. She's being helping me since I got separated from you, protected me from some bad guys and even stitched my wound up and everything. Please, Hunter. I'm okay".

The man's eyes scan her up and down; first focusing on her covered stomach, searching for the wound, before continuing with the rest of her. Once he confirms she's okay, he locks eyes with Omega; both of them staring at each other for a few seconds before Hunter sighs and turns his face back towards you. You breathe and try to calm your speeding heart.

"Where exactly did you serve?" He asks, voice firm but more gentle now.

He still holds you tightly under him. As much as he wants to believe those words, he needs to check the information out.

You answer him patiently.

"327th Star Corps, under Bly and General Secura".

Hunter repeats the information over his coms without taking his eyes from you. A flicker of surprise crosses his serious expression; perhaps noticing you didn't name the Comander by his rank, but his name.

Okay, Blades. You can consider us friends now.

Your heart clenches. You glance away.

"The information appears to be correct, Hunter" a self-assured voice picks up in between the static. "There's plenty of data of a doctor going by the nickname Blade on the old GAR registers. Including the incident that prompted such name, amongst dozens of post-mission reports and recomendations. She's being searched by the Empire as well".

The coms grow silent again, and Hunter inmediately relaxes his hold on you, trusting his –other brother, you guess?– entirely.

"Forgive me" he tells you, standing up and offering you his own hand, a guilty and almost sheepish expresion on his face now. "I thought..."

"I was a mercenary that killed all those stormtroopers just to collect a price, yeah, I know" you cut him off, slowly standing up as well and wincing at the pain.

Now that the adrenaline is dropping, you feel exhausted and nautious.

"Not that she isn't a cute kid and that, but what's so special about her?" You can't help but ask.

They all tense, and you sigh in understanding.

"Family keeps family safe, okay" you accept.

Hunter's eyes flicker down towards your scorched chest plate and your bandaged shoulder. Blood is staining the bandage now, after the pressure he put on your wound seconds ago. He frowns.

"You hurt?"

You nod quietly.

"Believe it or not, trying to get rid of a whole squad of stormtroopers on your own is not that easy" you find enough energy to joke.

A tiny smirk tugs on his lips.

"Oh, I know. I'm impressed, though".

The booming voice of his other brother almost startles you into a jump.

"Yeah, we all are!"

You smile and shrug.

Hunter glances around.

"We should get out of here. We got our ship docked close. Want us to take you somewhere?" He offers.

"Any other planet would be nice" you answer, and he nods.

"Sorry for all the trouble. And thank you" he finally says, and you sigh with a small tired smile.

"Alright".

With nothing more to say, Hunter leads the way back to their ship, Omega walking besides him and Wrecker closing the line. You can't help but analise the man's interactions with the girl. It's sweet, really, the fatherly way he looks at her. It's hot too.

Oh well. You can't help but think that either. He looks good fighting, and you always had a bit of a competency kink.

THE END.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Fiuuuuuuu!!!! This one took me really long to write bc I'm DYING with my exams and I have 0,0000001% energy (and time) spare to write. I'm actually finishing this off rn after reading my last unit for the day, i'm exhausted send help.

Anyhow, I think this little story developed okay, so I hope you like it! In case any of you hadn't guess it yet or still had doubts, the cursive stands for thoughts and memories of female reader back in battle with the GAR and her men. It's always so fun to write badass characters!

We've got JUST ONE MORE REQUEST to write (a super fluffy hunter one with dancer!femalereader) to oficially finish the second part of my requests list (will open a third one in the future don't fret). That would be 20 requests already look at that!

Also, I just need 7 more followers to make it to a hundred, and I've been thinking on doing something special for it. Suggestions?

Stay tunned for the next one and take care!

Xx,

Sky.

Back to general masterlist here:

90 notes · View notes